Cipollino was the son of Cipollon. And he had seven brothers: Chipolletto, Cipollotto, Cipollochcha, Cipollucha, and so on - the most suitable names for an honest onion family. They were good people, I must say frankly, but I just did not carry them in life. What can you do: where the onions, there are tears. Chipollone, his wife and sons lived in a wooden shack with a little more box for garden seedlings. If the rich happened to get into these places, they wrinkled their noses uneasily, grumbled: "Oh, how he carries the onion!" - and ordered the coachman to go faster. Once the poor countryside was going to visit the ruler of the country, Prince Lemon. The courtiers were terribly worried whether the onion smell would strike his Highness's nose. "What will the prince say when he feels this smell of poverty?" "You can sprinkle the poor with spirits!" - suggested Senior Chamberlain. On the outskirts immediately sent a dozen soldiers-Lemons, to strangle those from whom they smell like onions. This time the soldiers left their sabers and cannons in the barracks and put huge cans with sprayers on their shoulders. In the cans were: flower cologne, violet essence and even the best pink water.
