"I don't care."
"Aren't you afraid of death?"
"Not a bit. I'd rather die than drink that awful medicine."
At that moment, the door of the room flew open and in
came four Rabbits as black as ink, carrying a small black
coffin on their shoulders.
"What do you want from me?" asked Pinocchio.
"We have come for you," said the largest Rabbit.
"For me? But I'm not dead yet!"
"No, not dead yet; but you will be in a few moments
since you have refused to take the medicine which would
have made you well."
"Oh, Fairy, my Fairy," the Marionette cried out, "give me
that glass! Quick, please! I don't want to die!
No, no, not yet--not yet!"
And holding the glass with his two hands, he swallowed
the medicine at one gulp.
"Well," said the four Rabbits, "this time we have made
the trip for nothing."
And turning on their heels, they marched solemnly out
of the room, carrying their little black coffin and muttering
and grumbling between their teeth.
In a twinkling, Pinocchio felt fine. With one leap he
was out of bed and into his clothes.
The Fairy, seeing him run and jump around the room
gay as a bird on wing, said to him:
"My medicine was good for you, after all, wasn't it?"
"Good indeed! It has given me new life."
"Why, then, did I have to beg you so hard to make
you drink it?"
"I'm a boy, you see, and all boys hate medicine more
than they do sickness."
"What a shame! Boys ought to know, after all, that
medicine, taken in time, can save them from much pain
and even from death."
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