In the evening we went to the Birraria Svizzera, and he ate his seppia while I got through my maccaroni. When his interiori di pollo came I said:
“I will do my best to eat what you eat, not exactly but as nearly as I can. Instead of a veal cutlet I will have part of an esteriore di pollo. It rather surprises me that you should always eat the same things. Gildo said you like plenty of variety.”
“So I do,” he replied. “Look at my plate. Can you imagine a more delicious variety?”
I looked and said: “Certainly there is variety; I doubt whether our English fowls could show so much. But—well, as long as you like it—”
Being rather tired after our day in the country we did not go to any theatre, we stayed in the Birraria till bed-time talking and listening to the music.
* * * * *
Next day was the last of the buffo’s holiday, and I proposed another excursion, but he said:
“Suppose we pretend that we have come to Catania on an excursion, and then we can spend the day in the city. I want to buy some things to take home with me for my sisters.”
Accordingly we looked in the shop-windows and chose three ornamental combs made of celluloid for the three sisters, a snuff-box for papa, made of dried bergamot skin smelling so as to scent the snuff, and a pair of braces for Gildo. It seemed a pity that the buffo should not have something also, so he chose for himself a handkerchief with a picture of the elephant of lava over the fountain in the piazza and he gave me in return a metal pencil-case. Then the question of the piece of lava had to be taken up again. We consulted the landlord, who produced a bit—exactly
what was wanted and only one franc fifty. We had been wandering about in search of it and there it was all the time in the same house with us.