Pinocchio is hungry and looks for an
egg to cook himself an omelet;
but, to his surprise, the omelet flies out of the window
If the Cricket's death scared Pinocchio at all, it was only
for a very few moments. For, as night came on, a queer,
empty feeling at the pit of his stomach reminded the
Marionette that he had eaten nothing as yet.
A boy's appetite grows very fast, and in a few moments
the queer, empty feeling had become hunger, and the
hunger grew bigger and bigger, until soon he was as
ravenous as a bear.
Poor Pinocchio ran to the fireplace where the pot was
boiling and stretched out his hand to take the cover off,
but to his amazement the pot was only painted! Think how
he felt! His long nose became at least two inches longer.
He ran about the room, dug in all the boxes and drawers,
and even looked under the bed in search of a piece of bread,
hard though it might be, or a cookie, or perhaps a bit of fish.
A bone left by a dog would have tasted good to him!
But he found nothing.
And meanwhile his hunger grew and grew. The only
relief poor Pinocchio had was to yawn; and he certainly
did yawn, such a big yawn that his mouth stretched
out to the tips of his ears. Soon he became dizzy and faint.
He wept and wailed to himself: "The Talking Cricket
was right. It was wrong of me to disobey Father and to
run away from home. If he were here now, I wouldn't be
so hungry! Oh, how horrible it is to be hungry!"
Suddenly, he saw, among the sweepings in a corner,
something round and white that looked very much like a
hen's egg. In a jiffy he pounced upon it. It was an egg.
The Marionette's joy knew no bounds. It is impossible
to describe it, you must picture it to yourself. Certain that
he was dreaming, he turned the egg over and over in his
hands, fondled it, kissed it, and talked to it:
"And now, how shall I cook you? Shall I make an
omelet? No, it is better to fry you in a pan!
Or shall I drink you? No, the best way is to
fry you in the pan. You will taste better."
No sooner said than done. He placed a little pan over a
foot warmer full of hot coals. In the pan, instead of oil or
butter, he poured a little water. As soon as the water
started to boil--tac!--he broke the eggshell. But in place
of the white and the yolk of the egg, a little yellow Chick,
fluffy and gay and smiling, escaped from it. Bowing
politely to Pinocchio, he said to him:
"Many, many thanks, indeed, Mr. Pinocchio, for having
saved me the trouble of breaking my shell! Good-by
and good luck to you and remember me to the family!"
With these words he spread out his wings and, darting
to the open window, he flew away into space till he was
out of sight.
The poor Marionette stood as if turned to stone, with
wide eyes, open mouth, and the empty halves of the egg-
shell in his hands. When he came to himself, he began to
cry and shriek at the top of his lungs, stamping his feet on
the ground and wailing all the while:
"The Talking Cricket was right! If I had not run away
from home and if Father were here now, I should not be
dying of hunger. Oh, how horrible it is to be hungry!"
And as his stomach kept grumbling more than ever and
he had nothing to quiet it with, he thought of going out
for a walk to the near-by village, in the hope of finding
some charitable person who might give him a bit of bread.
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Adventures of Pinocchio