"Today I will go and hear the fifes, and tomorrow I will go to school,"
finally decided the young scapegrace, shrugging his shoulders.

The more he ran the nearer came the sounds of the fifes and the beating
of the big drum: Fi-fi-fi; zum, zum, zum, zum.

At last he found himself in the middle of a square quite full of people,
who were all crowded round a building made of wood and canvas, and
painted a thousand colors.

"What is that building?" asked Pinocchio, turning to a little boy who
belonged to the place.

"Read the placard--it is all written--and then you will know."

"I would read it willingly, but it so happens that today I don't know
how to read."

"Bravo, blockhead! Then I will read it to you. The writing on that
placard in those letters red as fire is:

"THE GREAT PUPPET THEATER."

"Has the play begun long?"

"It is beginning now."

"How much does it cost to go in?"

"A dime."