When they reached the square, a buyer was soon found.

“How much do you ask for that little lame Donkey?” he asked.

“Four dollars.”

“I’ll give you four cents.  Don’t think I’m buying him for work.  I want only his skin.  It looks very tough and I can use it to make myself a drumhead.  I belong to a musical band in my village and I need a drum.”

I leave it to you, my dear children, to picture to yourself the great pleasure with which Pinocchio heard that he was to become a drumhead!

As soon as the buyer had paid the four cents, the Donkey changed hands.  His new owner took him to a high cliff overlooking the sea, put a stone around his neck, tied a rope to one of his hind feet, gave him a push, and threw him into the water.

Pinocchio sank immediately.  And his new master sat on the cliff waiting for him to drown, so as to skin him and make himself a drumhead.

CHAPTER 34

Pinocchio is thrown into the sea, eaten by fishes, and becomes a Marionette once more.  As he swims to land, he is swallowed by the Terrible Shark.

Down into the sea, deeper and deeper, sank Pinocchio, and finally, after fifty minutes of waiting, the man on the cliff said to himself: 

“By this time my poor little lame Donkey must be drowned.  Up with him and then I can get to work on my beautiful drum.”

He pulled the rope which he had tied to Pinocchio’s leg—­pulled and pulled and pulled and, at last, he saw appear on the surface of the water—­Can you guess what?  Instead of a dead donkey, he saw a very much alive Marionette, wriggling and squirming like an eel.

Seeing that wooden Marionette, the poor man thought he was dreaming and sat there with his mouth wide open and his eyes popping out of his head.

Gathering his wits together, he said: 

“And the Donkey I threw into the sea?”

“I am that Donkey,” answered the Marionette laughing.

“You?”

“I.”

“Ah, you little cheat!  Are you poking fun at me?”

“Poking fun at you?  Not at all, dear Master.  I am talking seriously.”

“But, then, how is it that you, who a few minutes ago were a donkey, are now standing before me a wooden Marionette?”

“It may be the effect of salt water.  The sea is fond of playing these tricks.”

“Be careful, Marionette, be careful!  Don’t laugh at me!  Woe be to you, if I lose my patience!”

“Well, then, my Master, do you want to know my whole story?  Untie my leg and I can tell it to you better.”

The old fellow, curious to know the true story of the Marionette’s life, immediately untied the rope which held his foot.  Pinocchio, feeling free as a bird of the air, began his tale: