'What is that building?' asked Pinocchio, turning to a little boy who belonged to the place.
'Read the placard—it is all written—and then you will know.'
'I would read it willingly, but it so happens that to-day I don't know how to read.'
'Bravo, blockhead! Then I will read it to you. The writing on that placard in those letters red as fire is:
'GREAT PUPPET THEATRE.'
'Has the play begun long?'
'It is beginning now.'
'How much does it cost to go in?'
'Twopence.'
Pinocchio, who was in a fever of curiosity, lost all control of himself, and without any shame he said to the little boy to whom he was talking:
'Would you lend me twopence until to-morrow?'
'I would lend them to you willingly,' said the other, taking him off, 'but it so happens that to-day I cannot give them to you.'
'I will sell you my jacket for twopence,' the puppet then said to him.
'What do you think that I could do with a jacket of flowered paper? If there was rain and it got wet, it would be impossible to get it off my back.'
