A few bats skimmed his nose now and again and scared him half to death.

Once or twice he shouted, "Who goes there ?" and the far-away hills echoed back to him, "Who goes there?
Who goes there?
Who goes.

.

.

?" As he walked, Pinocchio noticed a tiny insect glimmering on the trunk of a tree, a small being that glowed with a pale, soft light.
"Who are you ?" he asked.
"I am the ghost of the Talking Cricket," answered the little being in a faint voice that sounded as if it came from a far-away world.
"What do you want ?" asked the Marionette.
"I want to give you a few words of good advice.