pinocchio falls asleep with his feet on a foot warmer,and awakens the next day with his feet all burned offpinocchio hated the dark street, but he was so hungrythat, in spite of it, he ran out of the house. the night waspitch black. it thundered, and bright flashes of lightningnow and again shot across the sky, turning it into a sea offire. an angry wind blew cold and raised dense clouds ofdust, while the trees shook and moaned in a weird way.
pinocchio was greatly afraid of thunder and lightning,but the hunger he felt was far greater than his fear. in adozen leaps and bounds, he came to the village, tired out,puffing like a whale, and with tongue hanging.
the whole village was dark and deserted. the storeswere closed, the doors, the windows. in the streets, noteven a dog could be seen. it seemed the village of thedead.
pinocchio, in desperation, ran up to a doorway, threwhimself upon the bell, and pulled it wildly, saying to himself:
"someone will surely answer that!"he was right. an old man in a nightcap opened thewindow and looked out. he called down angrily:
"what do you want at this hour of night?""will you be good enough to give me a bit of bread?
i am hungry.""wait a minute and i'll come right back," answered theold fellow, thinking he had to deal with one of those boyswho love to roam around at night ringing people's bellswhile they are peacefully asleep.
after a minute or two, the same voice cried:
"get under the window and hold out your hat!"pinocchio had no hat, but he managed to get under thewindow just in time to feel a shower of ice-cold waterpour down on his poor wooden head, his shoulders, andover his whole body.
he returned home as wet as a rag, and tired out fromweariness and hunger.
as he no longer had any strength left with which tostand, he sat down on a little stool and put his two feet onthe stove to dry them.
there he fell asleep, and while he slept, his woodenfeet began to burn. slowly, very slowly, they blackenedand turned to ashes.
pinocchio snored away happily as if his feet were nothis own. at dawn he opened his eyes just as a loud knockingsounded at the door.
"who is it?" he called, yawning and rubbing his eyes.
"it is i," answered a voice.
it was the voice of geppetto.
这真是个可怕的冬夜，雷声隆隆，电光闪闪，整个天空好像着了火，寒冷彻骨的狂风卷起滚滚的灰尘，吹得田野上所有的树木刷拉刷拉直响。
皮诺乔最怕打雷闪电，可肚子饿比打雷闪电更可怕。因此他掩上门，撒腿就跑，蹦上那么百来蹦，来到一个村子，他舌头也吐了出来，上气不接下气，活像一只猎犬。
可村子里一片漆黑，人影也没有一个，铺子都关上了门。一家家也关上了门，关上了窗子，街上连一只狗也没有，整个村子像死了似的。
皮诺乔又是绝望又是肚子饿，于是去拉一户人家的门铃，他丁零丁零拉个不停．心里说：
“总会有人朝外看看的。”
果然，有人打开了窗子朝下看，这是个老头儿，戴一顶睡帽，气乎乎地大叫：
“这么深更半夜的，要干什么？”
“请做做好事，给我点面包行吗？”
“你等着吧，我就下来。”老头儿回答着，心想准碰上了小坏蛋，深更半夜来开玩笑。人家好好地睡觉，他却来拉门铃捉弄老实人，
过了半分钟，窗子又打开了，还是那个老头儿的声音对皮诺乔叫道：
“你在下面站着，把帽子拿好。”
皮诺乔还没有帽子，他马上走到窗子底下，只觉得一大盆水直泼下来，把他从头淋到脚，好像他是一盆枯萎的天竺葵似的。
皮诺乔像只落汤鸡似地回家里，他又累又饿，一点力气也没有了。他再没力气站着，于是坐下来，把两只又湿又脏、满是烂泥的脚搁到烧炭的火盆上，
他就这样睡着了，他睡着的时候，一双木头脚给火烧着，一点一点烧成了炭，烧成了灰。
皮诺乔只管睡他的大觉，咕啊咕啊地打呼，好像这双脚不是他的，是别人的，他直到天亮才一下醒来，因为听见有人敲门，
“谁呀？”他打着哈欠，擦着眼睛问，
“是我，”一个声音回答。
这是杰佩托的声音。
