would be a breach of trust. Look, the sun's already setting and the moon's beginning to rise. I must leave right now.”

“Wait two more minutes,” replied Lampwick, not bothering to check the progress of the celestial spheres.

“It's too late!”

“Only two minutes!”

“Don't you understand? My mother was good enough to allow me some latitude with my schedule today—so that I could hand out my party invitations. But her letting me out of the house was contingent on my promise to return home before dark! What if she scolds me?”

“Scolds you? What are you, a sissy? She won't scold you. She'll overlook anything you do by reminding herself that boys will…I mean…puppets will be puppets,” explained Lampwick, alluding to the old adage. “And even if she does scold you, let her. So what? Are you afraid it will injure your fragile ego?”

Ignoring the question, Pinocchio asked, “Are you going alone or with friends?”

“Alone? Are you kidding? There will be more than a hundred of us!”

Pinocchio thought for a moment, then said, “Let me ask you a hypothetical question: If, by chance, I did decide to go with you—and I don't want you to infer from this question that I have any intention of going—how would we get there?”

“At midnight a wagon passes here that takes us there.”

“Listen, Lampwick,” said the puppet, “are you really sure that there are no schools in Playland?”

“Not even the shadow of one.”

“Not even one teacher?”

“Not one.”

“And you don't have to study?”

“Never, never, never!”

“What a great land!” said Pinocchio. “Of course, I've never been there, but I can imagine what it would be like.”

“Why don't you come, too?”

“I told you I promised my good fairy that I'd behave myself, and I'm going to keep my word—and that's that.” When Lampwick didn't answer right away, Pinocchio added, “Listen, I'm a puppet, so I'm not susceptible to human frailties like you are. It's useless for you to even try to tempt me.”

“Have it your way. I hope you enjoy your humdrum existence. And send my regards to all the schoolhouses and teachers you meet along your way.”

“Good-bye, Lampwick. Have a good time.”

With these words, Pinocchio started on his way home. Turning once more to his friend, he asked, “But are you sure that in that country each day is like the weekend?”

“Very sure!”

“And that vacation begins on the first of January and ends on the thirty-first of December?”

“Very, very sure!”

“What a great country!” repeated Pinocchio, indecisively.

Then, in sudden determination, the puppet said hurriedly, “Good-bye for the last time, and good luck.”

“Have it your way, then. Good-bye.”

“How soon will you go?”

“In about two hours.”

“What a pity! If it were only one hour, I might wait with you.”

“And the fairy?”

“By this time I'm late, and one hour more