“Do you want to double your gold pieces?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want one hundred, a thousand, two thousand gold pieces for your miserable five?”

“Yes, but how?”

“The way is very easy.  Instead of returning home, come with us.”

“And where will you take me?”

“To the City of Simple Simons.”

Pinocchio thought a while and then said firmly: 

“No, I don’t want to go.  Home is near, and I’m going where Father is waiting for me.  How unhappy he must be that I have not yet returned!  I have been a bad son, and the Talking Cricket was right when he said that a disobedient boy cannot be happy in this world.  I have learned this at my own expense.  Even last night in the theater, when Fire Eater. . .  Brrrr!!!!! . . .  The shivers run up and down my back at the mere thought of it.”

“Well, then,” said the Fox, “if you really want to go home, go ahead, but you’ll be sorry.”

“You’ll be sorry,” repeated the Cat.

“Think well, Pinocchio, you are turning your back on Dame Fortune.”

“On Dame Fortune,” repeated the Cat.

“Tomorrow your five gold pieces will be two thousand!”

“Two thousand!” repeated the Cat.

“But how can they possibly become so many?” asked Pinocchio wonderingly.

“I’ll explain,” said the Fox.  “You must know that, just outside the City of Simple Simons, there is a blessed field called the Field of Wonders.  In this field you dig a hole and in the hole you bury a gold piece.  After covering up the hole with earth you water it well, sprinkle a bit of salt on it, and go to bed.  During the night, the gold piece sprouts, grows, blossoms, and next morning you find a beautiful tree, that is loaded with gold pieces.”

“So that if I were to bury my five gold pieces,” cried Pinocchio with growing wonder, “next morning I should find—­how many?”

“It is very simple to figure out,” answered the Fox.  “Why, you can figure it on your fingers!  Granted that each piece gives you five hundred, multiply five hundred by five.  Next morning you will find twenty-five hundred new, sparkling gold pieces.”

“Fine!  Fine!” cried Pinocchio, dancing about with joy.  “And as soon as I have them, I shall keep two thousand for myself and the other five hundred I’ll give to you two.”

“A gift for us?” cried the Fox, pretending to be insulted.  “Why, of course not!”

“Of course not!” repeated the Cat.

“We do not work for gain,” answered the Fox.  “We work only to enrich others.”

“To enrich others!” repeated the Cat.

“What good people,” thought Pinocchio to himself.  And forgetting his father, the new coat, the A-B-C book, and all his good resolutions, he said to the Fox and to the Cat: 

“Let us go.  I am with you.”

CHAPTER 13