Chapter 17

           Assoonasthethreedoctorshadlefttheroom,theFairywenttoPinocchio’sbedand,touchinghimontheforehead,noticedthathewasburningwithfever. 

           Shetookaglassofwater,putawhitepowderintoit,and,handingittotheMarionette,saidlovinglytohim: 

           "Drinkthis,andinafewdaysyou’llbeupandwell." 

           Pinocchiolookedattheglass,madeawryface,andaskedinawhiningvoice: "Isitsweetorbitter?" 

           "Itisbitter,butitisgoodforyou." 

           "Ifitisbitter,Idon’twantit." 

           "Drinkit!" 

           "Idon’tlikeanythingbitter." 

           "DrinkitandI’llgiveyoualumpofsugartotakethebittertastefromyourmouth." 

           "Where’sthesugar?" 

           "Hereitis,"saidtheFairy,takingalumpfromagoldensugarbowl. 

           "Iwantthesugarfirst,thenI’lldrinkthebitterwater." 

           "Doyoupromise?" 

           "Yes." 

           TheFairygavehimthesugarandPinocchio,afterchewingandswallowingitinatwinkling,said,smackinghislips: 

           "Ifonlysugarweremedicine!Ishouldtakeiteveryday." 

           "Nowkeepyourpromiseanddrinkthesefewdropsofwater.They’llbegoodforyou." 

           Pinocchiotooktheglassinbothhandsandstuckhisnoseintoit.Heliftedittohismouthandoncemorestuckhisnoseintoit. 

           "Itistoobitter,muchtoobitter!Ican’tdrinkit." 

           "Howdoyouknow,whenyouhaven’teventastedit?" 

           "Icanimagineit.Ismellit.Iwantanotherlumpofsugar,thenI’lldrinkit." 

           TheFairy,withallthepatienceofagoodmother,gavehimmoresugarandagainhandedhimtheglass. 

           "Ican’tdrinkitlikethat,"theMarionettesaid,makingmorewryfaces.