After a minute or two, the same voice cried:

　　"Get under the window and hold out your hat!"Pinocchio hadno hat, but he managed to get under thewindow just in time to feel a shower ofice-cold waterpour down on his poor wooden head, his shoulders, andover hiswhole body.

　　He returned home as wet as a rag, and tired out fromweariness andhunger.

　　As he no longer had any strength left with which tostand, he satdown on a little stool and put his two feet onthe stove to dry them.

　　There he fell asleep, and while he slept, his woodenfeet began toburn. Slowly, very slowly, they blackenedand turned to ashes.

　　Pinocchio snored away happily as if his feet were nothis own. Atdawn he opened his eyes just as a loud knockingsounded at the door.

　　"Who is it?" he called, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

　　"It is I," answered a voice.

　　It was the voice of Geppetto.

　　过了半分钟，窗子又打开了，还是那个老头儿的声音对皮诺乔叫道：
　　“你在下面站着，把帽子拿好。”
　　皮诺乔还没有帽子，他马上走到窗子底下，只觉得一大盆水直泼下来，把他从头淋到脚，好像他是一盆枯萎的天竺葵似的。
　　皮诺乔像只落汤鸡似地回家里，他又累又饿，一点力气也没有了。他再没力气站着，于是坐下来，把两只又湿又脏、满是烂泥的脚搁到烧炭的火盆上，
　　他就这样睡着了，他睡着的时候，一双木头脚给火烧着，一点一点烧成了炭，烧成了灰。
　　皮诺乔只管睡他的大觉，咕啊咕啊地打呼，好像这双脚不是他的，是别人的，他直到天亮才一下醒来，因为听见有人敲门，
　　“谁呀？”他打着哈欠，擦着眼睛问，
　　“是我，”一个声音回答。
　　这是杰佩托的声音。