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PINOCCHIO 105
convulsions of laughter, and he laughed, and
laughed, and laughed, until from the violence
of his laughter he broke a blood-vessel and died.
And that time he was really dead.
Pinocchio then set off running in hopes that
he should reach the Fairy’s house before dark.
But before long he began to suffer so dread¬
fully from hunger that he could not bear it,
and he jumped into a field by the way-side
intending to pick some bunches of muscatel
grapes. Oh, that he had never done it!
He had scarcely reached the vines when crack
, . . his legs were caught between two cutting
iron bars, and he became so giddy with pain
that stars of every colour danced before his eyes.
The poor puppet had been taken in a trap
put there to capture some big polecats who
were the scourge of the poultry-yards in the
neighbourhood.