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Chapter 13

           Roundabouthim,notaleafstirred.Afewbatsskimmedhisnosenowandagainandscaredhimhalftodeath.Onceortwiceheshouted,"Whogoesthere?"andthefar-awayhillsechoedbacktohim,"Whogoesthere?Whogoesthere?Whogoes...?" 

           Ashewalked,Pinocchionoticedatinyinsectglimmeringonthetrunkofatree,asmallbeingthatglowedwithapale,softlight. 

           "Whoareyou?"heasked. 

           "IamtheghostoftheTalkingCricket,"answeredthelittlebeinginafaintvoicethatsoundedasifitcamefromafar-awayworld. 

           "Whatdoyouwant?"askedtheMarionette. 

           "Iwanttogiveyouafewwordsofgoodadvice.Returnhomeandgivethefourgoldpiecesyouhavelefttoyourpooroldfatherwhoisweepingbecausehehasnotseenyouformanyaday." 

           "Tomorrowmyfatherwillbearichman,forthesefourgoldpieceswillbecometwothousand." 

           "Don’tlistentothosewhopromiseyouwealthovernight,myboy.Asaruletheyareeitherfoolsorswindlers!Listentomeandgohome." 

           "ButIwanttogoon!" 

           "Thehourislate!" 

           "Iwanttogoon." 

           "Thenightisverydark." 

           "Iwanttogoon." 

           "Theroadisdangerous." 

           "Iwanttogoon." 

           "Rememberthatboyswhoinsistonhavingtheirownway,soonerorlatercometogrief." 

           "Thesamenonsense.Good-by,Cricket." 

           "Goodnight,Pinocchio,andmayHeavenpreserveyoufromtheAssassins." 

           TherewassilenceforaminuteandthelightoftheTalkingCricketdisappearedsuddenly,justasifsomeonehadsnuffeditout.Onceagaintheroadwasplungedindarkness. 

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