Naturally, Pinocchio at once asked the Fairy for permission to go round the town giving out the invitations; and the Fairy said to him:
“Go along, then, and invite your schoolmates to tomorrow’s breakfast; but remember to come home before it gets dark. Do you understand?”
“I promise to be back within an hour,” replied the puppet.
“Take care, Pinocchio! Boys are quick to promise, but most of the time they are slow to keep their promises.”
“But I’m not like the others: when I say something, I keep my word.”
“We shall see. And if you should disobey, so much the worse for you.”
“Why?”
“Because boys who don’t listen to the advice of those who know more than they do always run into some misfortune.”
“And I’ve found that out!” said Pinocchio. “But I won’t fall into it again now!”
“We shall see whether you are telling the truth.”
Without another word, the puppet said goodbye to his good Fairy, who was a kind of mother to him, and went out of the front door singing and dancing.
In little more than an hour all his friends had been invited. Some accepted at once and gladly; others at first had to be coaxed a little; but when they heard that the rolls for dipping in the coffee-and-milk would be buttered on the outside as well, they all ended by saying: “We’ll come too, to please you.”
Now you must know that among his friends and schoolmates Pinocchio had one who was his favourite and very dear to him, whose real name was Romeo; but everyone called him by the nickname of Lampwick, because of his thin, dry, lanky little figure, exactly like the new wick of a night-light.
Lampwick was the laziest and naughtiest boy in the whole school; but Pinocchio was very fond of him. In fact, he went straight to his house to look for him and invite him to the breakfast, and did not find him; he went back a second time, and Lampwick was not there; he went back a third time, and made the journey in vain.
Where could he fish him out from? He searched here, he searched there, and at last he saw him hiding under the porch of a peasant’s house.
“What are you doing there?” Pinocchio asked him, coming closer.
“I’m waiting for midnight, to set off…”
“Where are you going?”
“Far, far, far away!”
“And I’ve been to your house three times looking for you!…”
“What did you want with me?”
“Haven’t you heard about the great event? Don’t you know what good luck has come my way?”
“What luck?”
“Tomorrow I stop being a puppet and become a boy like you, and like everybody else.”
“Much good may it do you.”
“So tomorrow I’ll expect you for breakfast at my house.”
“But I’m telling you, I’m leaving tonight.”
“At what time?”
“Very soon.”
“And where are you going?”
“I’m going to live in a country… which is the finest country in the whole world: a real land of plenty!…”
“And what is it called?”
“It’s called the ‘Land of Toys’. Why don’t you come too?”
“Me? Certainly not!”
“You’re wrong, Pinocchio! Take my word for it: if you don’t come, you’ll be sorry. Where will you find a healthier country for us boys? There are no schools there; there are no schoolmasters there; there are no books there. In that blessed country nobody ever studies. There’s no school on Thursdays; and every week is made up of six Thursdays and one Sunday. Just imagine, the autumn holidays begin on the first of January and end on the last day of December. That’s the kind of country I really like! That’s how all civilised countries ought to be!…”
“But how do people spend their days in the ‘Land of Toys’?”
“They spend them playing and having fun from morning till night. Then at night you go to bed, and the next morning you start all over again. What do you think of that?”
“Hmm!…” said Pinocchio; and he wagged his head slightly, as if to say: “That’s a life I would gladly lead myself.”
“Well then, will you come with me? Yes or no? Make up your mind.”
“No, no, no, and again no. I’ve promised my good Fairy now to become a proper boy, and I mean to keep my promise. What’s more, since I see the sun is going down, I’ll leave you right away and run off. So goodbye, and have a good journey.”
“Where are you rushing off to in such a hurry?”
“Home. My good Fairy wants me back before dark.”
“Wait another two minutes.”
“I’ll be too late.”
“Just two minutes.”
“And what if the Fairy scolds me afterwards?”
“Let her scold. When she has scolded to her heart’s content, she’ll calm down,” said that rascal Lampwick.
“And how are you going? Are you leaving alone or with company?”
“Alone? There’ll be more than a hundred of us boys.”
“And are you making the journey on foot?”
“Soon the cart that is to pick me up will come by here and take me right inside the borders of that most fortunate country.”
“What I wouldn’t give for the cart to come by now!…”
“Why?”
“To see you all set off together.”
“Stay here a little longer and you’ll see us.”
“No, no: I want to go back home.”
“Wait another two minutes.”
“I’ve stayed far too long already. The Fairy will be worried about me.”
“Poor Fairy! Is she afraid the bats might eat you, perhaps?”
“But then,” Pinocchio went on, “are you really sure that in that country there are no schools at all?…”
“Not even a shadow of one.”
“And no schoolmasters either?”
“Not a single one.”
“And nobody ever has to study?”
“Never, never, never!”
“What a lovely country!” said Pinocchio, feeling his mouth water. “What a lovely country! I’ve never been there, but I can just picture it!…”
“Why don’t you come too?”
“It’s no use your tempting me! I’ve promised my good Fairy now to become a sensible boy, and I don’t want to break my word.”
“Well then, goodbye, and give my best regards to the grammar schools!… and to the high schools too, if you meet them along the way.”
“Goodbye, Lampwick; have a good journey, enjoy yourself, and remember your friends now and then.”
So saying, the puppet took two steps as if to leave; but then, stopping and turning to his friend, he asked him:
“But are you really sure that in that country every week is made up of six Thursdays and one Sunday?”
“Quite sure.”
“But do you know for certain that the holidays begin on the first of January and end on the last day of December?”
“Absolutely certain.”
“What a lovely country!” Pinocchio repeated, spitting from sheer delight. Then, making up his mind firmly, he added in a great hurry:
“So goodbye for real this time: and have a good journey.”
“Goodbye.”
“How soon will you be leaving?”
“Very soon.”
“What a pity! If there were just one hour left before you leave, I’d almost be willing to wait.”
“And the Fairy?”
“It’s too late now anyway!… and getting home an hour early or an hour late comes to the same thing.”
“Poor Pinocchio! And what if the Fairy scolds you?”
“Never mind! I’ll let her scold. When she has scolded to her heart’s content, she’ll calm down.”
Meanwhile night had fallen, and a dark night it was, when all of a sudden they saw a little light moving in the distance… and they heard a jingling of harness bells and the blast of a trumpet, so tiny and muffled that it sounded like the whine of a mosquito.
“Here it is!” shouted Lampwick, jumping to his feet.
“What is it?” asked Pinocchio in a whisper.
“It’s the wagon coming to fetch me. So, do you want to come or not?”
“But is it really true,” asked the puppet, “that in that country boys never have to study?”
“Never, never, never!”
“What a wonderful country!… what a wonderful country!… What a wonderful country!…”