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Updated: June 25, 2025
They're usually very nice little fellows, but I'm afraid they've been shut up so long in that dark trunk that they're feeling a little angry. I'll have to see. No? Then we'll have to ask your friend here. What's your name?" "Sambo," mouthed the black-faced marionette. "Gee!" whispered John, as he watched the professor's lips closely. "How's he do it?"
"Who is there to help you, unhappy boy?" said a rough voice, like a guitar out of tune. "Who is talking?" asked Pinocchio, frozen with terror. "It is I, a poor Tunny swallowed by the Shark at the same time as you. And what kind of a fish are you?" "I have nothing to do with fishes. I am a Marionette." "If you are not a fish, why did you let this monster swallow you?" "I didn't let him.
No trumped-up interest in one particular puppet will take the place of the drama itself. This is a pity. It is easier to create a marionette than it is to construct a play. The three highly advertised "personalities" that reached us at crocus time were owned and engineered by Miss Amelia Bingham, Miss Mary Mannering and Miss Virginia Harned.
If you make me angry, you'll be sorry!" "Poor Pinocchio, I am sorry for you." "Why?" "Because you are a Marionette and, what is much worse, you have a wooden head." At these last words, Pinocchio jumped up in a fury, took a hammer from the bench, and threw it with all his strength at the Talking Cricket. Perhaps he did not think he would strike it.
Seeing the Marionette, he cried to him: "Tell me, little boy, what are you doing there?" "Can't you see? I'm crying," cried Pinocchio, lifting his head toward the voice and rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. "Tell me," asked the Pigeon, "do you by chance know of a Marionette, Pinocchio by name?" "Pinocchio! Did you say Pinocchio?" replied the Marionette, jumping to his feet. "Why, I am Pinocchio!"
As soon as the Marionette felt his new feet, he gave one leap from the table and started to skip and jump around, as if he had lost his head from very joy. "To show you how grateful I am to you, Father, I'll go to school now. But to go to school I need a suit of clothes."
She was not a snob and there were so many snobs among Dalton's friends. She talked to him as if he were a man and not a mechanical toy. Dalton, on the other hand, treated his valet as if he were a marionette to be pulled by strings, an organ controlled by stops, or a typewriter operated by keys. Major Prime had come down on the same train. Randy, driving Little Sister, was there to meet him.
The church was to bless the union at four o'clock next morning, after which the happy pair would drive down to the station in a cart, the side panels painted with scenes from the story of Orlando out of the marionette theatre, and the back panel with a ballet girl over the words "Viva la Divina Provvidenza." Then they would take the train to Palermo for a honeymoon of three days.
High on the rock stood a little Goat bleating and calling and beckoning to the Marionette to come to her. There was something very strange about that little Goat. Her coat was not white or black or brown as that of any other goat, but azure, a deep brilliant color that reminded one of the hair of the lovely maiden. Pinocchio's heart beat fast, and then faster and faster.
When I come to think of it," said the Marionette to himself, as he once more set out on his journey, "we boys are really very unlucky. Everybody scolds us, everybody gives us advice, everybody warns us. If we were to allow it, everyone would try to be father and mother to us; everyone, even the Talking Cricket. Take me, for example.
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