Chapter 3

Little as Geppetto's house was, it was neat and comfortable.

It was a small room on the ground floor, with a tiny window under the stairway.

The furniture could not have been much simpler: a very old chair, a rickety old bed, and a tumble-down table.

A fireplace full of burning logs was painted on the wall opposite the door.

Over the fire, there was painted a pot full of something which kept boiling happily away and sending up clouds of what looked like real steam.

As soon as he reached home, Geppetto took his tools and began to cut and shape the wood into a Marionette.

What shall I call him? he said to himself.

I think I'll call him PINOCCHIO. This name will make his fortune.

I knew a whole family of Pinocchi once--Pinocchio the father, Pinocchia the mother, and Pinocchi the children--and they were all lucky.