The Land of Cockayne: A Novel

by Matilde Serao

'I never go there on Saturday,' said the other, giving a sickly smile. 'I go to look for Fortune; I must find her some Saturday morning!'

'When do you get your week's money?'

'Eh!' he said, shrugging his shoulders—'generally on Fridays: I have nothing to get.'

'How do you manage to gamble?'

'One can always get it for gambling. Donna Caterina's sister—she of the small game—lends money.'

'Does she take big interest?'

'A sou for each franc every week.'

'Not bad—not bad,' said the shoeblack, with a convinced look.

'I have seventy-five francs to give her,' said the glove-cutter. 'Every Monday there is a storm. She waits for me outside the factory door, shouting and swearing. She is really a witch, Michele. But what can I do? One day or other I will take a terno, and I will pay her.'

'What will you do with the rest of your winnings?' Michele asked, laughing.