The Greatest Adventure Books for Children. Люси Мод Монтгомери

Hair? Do you not remember how she opened the door for you one night and gave you something to eat?”

      “I remember everything,” cried Pinocchio. “Answer me quickly, pretty Snail, where have you left my Fairy? What is she doing? Has she forgiven me? Does she remember me? Does she still love me? Is she very far away from here? May I see her?”

      At all these questions, tumbling out one after another, the Snail answered, calm as ever:

      “My dear Pinocchio, the Fairy is lying ill in a hospital.”

      “In a hospital?”

      “Yes, indeed. She has been stricken with trouble and illness, and she hasn’t a penny left with which to buy a bite of bread.”

      “Really? Oh, how sorry I am! My poor, dear little Fairy! If I had a million I should run to her with it! But I have only fifty pennies. Here they are. I was just going to buy some clothes. Here, take them, little Snail, and give them to my good Fairy.”

      “What about the new clothes?”

      “What does that matter? I should like to sell these rags I have on to help her more. Go, and hurry. Come back here within a couple of days and I hope to have more money for you! Until today I have worked for my father. Now I shall have to work for my mother also. Good-by, and I hope to see you soon.”

      The Snail, much against her usual habit, began to run like a lizard under a summer sun.

      When Pinocchio returned home, his father asked him:

      “And where is the new suit?”

      “I couldn’t find one to fit me. I shall have to look again some other day.”

      That night, Pinocchio, instead of going to bed at ten o’clock waited until midnight, and instead of making eight baskets, he made sixteen.

      After that he went to bed and fell asleep. As he slept, he dreamed of his Fairy, beautiful, smiling, and happy, who kissed him and said to him, “Bravo, Pinocchio! In reward for your kind heart, I forgive you for all your old mischief. Boys who love and take good care of their parents when they are old and sick, deserve praise even though they may not be held up as models of obedience and good behavior. Keep on doing so well, and you will be happy.”

      At that very moment, Pinocchio awoke and opened wide his eyes.

      What was his surprise and his joy when, on looking himself over, he saw that he was no longer a Marionette, but that he had become a real live boy! He looked all about him and instead of the usual walls of straw, he found himself in a beautifully furnished little room, the prettiest he had ever seen. In a twinkling, he jumped down from his bed to look on the chair standing near. There, he found a new suit, a new hat, and a pair of shoes.

      As soon as he was dressed, he put his hands in his pockets and pulled out a little leather purse on which were written the following words:

      The Fairy with Azure Hair returns

       fifty pennies to her dear Pinocchio

       with many thanks for his kind heart.

      The Marionette opened the purse to find the money, and behold — there were fifty gold coins!

      Pinocchio ran to the mirror. He hardly recognized himself. The bright face of a tall boy looked at him with wide-awake blue eyes, dark brown hair and happy, smiling lips.

      Surrounded by so much splendor, the Marionette hardly knew what he was doing. He rubbed his eyes two or three times, wondering if he were still asleep or awake and decided he must be awake.

      “And where is Father?” he cried suddenly. He ran into the next room, and there stood Geppetto, grown years younger overnight, spick and span in his new clothes and gay as a lark in the morning. He was once more Mastro Geppetto, the wood carver, hard at work on a lovely picture frame, decorating it with flowers and leaves, and heads of animals.

      “Father, Father, what has happened? Tell me if you can,” cried Pinocchio, as he ran and jumped on his Father’s neck.

      “This sudden change in our house is all your doing, my dear Pinocchio,” answered Geppetto.

      “What have I to do with it?”

      “Just this. When bad boys become good and kind, they have the power of making their homes gay and new with happiness.”

      “I wonder where the old Pinocchio of wood has hidden himself?”

      “There he is,” answered Geppetto. And he pointed to a large Marionette leaning against a chair, head turned to one side, arms hanging limp, and legs twisted under him.

      After a long, long look, Pinocchio said to himself with great content:

      “How ridiculous I was as a Marionette! And how happy I am, now that I have become a real boy!”

      The Little Gingerbread Man

      (George Haven Putnam)

       Table of Contents

      ONE day, the cook went into the kitchen to make some gingerbread. She took some flour and water, and treacle and ginger, and mixed them all well together, and she put in some more water to make it thin, and then some more flour to make it thick, and a little salt and some spice, and then she rolled it out into a beautiful, smooth, dark-yellow dough.

      Then she took the square tins and cut out some square cakes for the little boys, and with some round tins she cut out some round cakes for the little girls, and then she said, “I’m going to make a little gingerbread man for little Bobby.” So she took a nice round lump of dough for his body, and a smaller lump for his head, which she pulled out a little for the neck. Two other lumps were stuck on beneath for the legs, and were pulled out into proper shape, with feet and toes all complete, and two still smaller pieces were made into arms, with dear little hands and fingers.

      But the nicest work was done on the head, for the top was frizzed up into a pretty sugary hat; on either side was made a dear little ear, and in front, after the nose had been carefully moulded, a beautiful mouth was made out of a big raisin, and two bright little eyes with burnt almonds and caraway seeds.

      Then the gingerbread man was finished ready for baking, and a very jolly little man he was. In fact, he looked so sly that the cook was afraid he was plotting some mischief, and when the batter was ready for the oven, she put in the square cakes and she put in the round cakes; and then she put in the little gingerbread man in a far back corner, where he couldn’t get away in a hurry.

      Then she went up to sweep the parlor, and she swept and she swept till the clock struck twelve, when she dropped her broom in a hurry, and exclaiming, “Lawks! the gingerbread will be all baked to a cinder,” she ran down into the kitchen, and threw open the oven door. And the square cakes were all done, nice and hard and brown, and the round cakes were all done, nice and hard and brown, and the gingerbread man was all done too, nice and hard and brown; and he was standing up in his corner, with his little caraway-seed eyes sparkling, and his raisin mouth bubbling over with mischief, while he waited for the oven door to be opened. The instant the door was opened, with a hop, skip, and a jump, he went right over the square cakes and the round cakes, and over the cook’s arm, and before she could say “Jack Robinson” he was running