into a washtub. He repeated this operation many times, filling many tubs with other fish, his mouth watering all the time so that he could hardly wait until the fish were cooked.
"What good whitefish! What exquisite bass! What delicious soles! What choice crabs! What dear little anchovies!"
The last to be taken from the net was Pinocchio. As the fisherman drew him out he opened his big green eyes in amazement, and exclaimed: "What kind of a fish is this? I don't remember ever seeing one like it before!" and he looked him all over again and then said, "Oh, I know! He must be a crawfish."
Mortified at being called a crawfish Pinocchio cried out indignantly; "I am not a crawfish! Look at me. I am a marionette."
"A marionette!" repeated the fisherman, "Well, well! A marionette is a new kind of fish to me. All the better. I shall eat you with greater relish."
"Eat me? But you do not understand! I am not a fish. Don't you see that I reason and talk as you do?"
