The little blak smock in Venise. 2. Chapter. At home. a

The little blak smock in Venise. 2. Chapter. At home. a

When he does not work he goes to the hospital.
Suffering makes him very sensitive to the misfortunes of others.
If there is any customer who complains that business is bad, he is his first client of the day.
Father bought the Encyclopedia of the Italian boy from a friend when I do not know how to read "So you need it ....." so justifies his good heart.
The representative of books is very young, tall and thin; he always wears a huge heavy bag of black leather from which he draws huge heavy volumes bound with beautiful colored cardboard covers to show them in vision.
Andrea "poor", says my father, needs to make a certain production.
"Buy an encyclopedia Giani go need to work" he keeps repeating.
It is a call that my father could not resist.
To tell the truth, when I started reading, I really appreciated this work suitable for young people.
The Encyclopedia of the Italian boy shows in a section the most beautiful tales; I love reading those stories very much.
The red cover with gold lettering gives a certain importance not only to the book, but also to the reader.
I am proud and a little worried because their heaviness puts a strain on the unstable balance of my table.
My new room has built it specially tailor-made Gusso, also called planer of gold, a legendary carpenter from Treviso.
Of course, the measures took really bad: the white cherry cabinet is too large to be placed on the short side of the room for this, having to place it on the long side, the aesthetic is irretrievably violated by the manufacturer.
Yet Gusso came personally and apparently, with accurate precision, took the tape several times and checked the length of the short side.
The table is immediately shaky - the legs must have been attached with a little 'glue of dubious quality - and does not give the idea of ​​excessive strength, so that it does not seem able to even support my subsidiary elementary.
The chair, covered with green leather, is the only piece that gives a certain satisfaction, fortunately holds great to my weight.
Even the bathroom was redone by a friend of the bar; perhaps this is why the drain box embedded in the wall never works properly and every so often it is necessary to call the manufacturer to perform an appropriate repair.
"Always call my friends and they always cheat him," says my mother.
"It's good," he says patiently.
"It's three times good", say the hardest ones on the other hand.
My father is simply a person who has been accustomed to life from suffering and therefore, knowing the suffering he seeks, if he can, to alleviate the small inconveniences that life brings to those in difficult situations.
After all, having a little pleasure or an insignificant courtesy costs sometimes very little.
All we need to do is overcome our petty selfishness.
I remember that time that led me to find his friend Fuffo small, plump, with callused hands and a bitter smile; the slightly crooked mouth often leaves an unlit cigarette, which, he says, lasts longer.
Fuffo must not pass too well: He lives in a house on the top floor behind Campo S. Silvestro after the Sottoportico della Pasina.
The staircase is steep and in the stairwell there is a bad smell of mold that matches with the peeling plaster.
The wife works at home: she makes a shirt.
My father has his shirts made, not because he wants us to have tailored shirts, but to earn something for his friend who, for the moment, has not yet found work after a sudden dismissal.
I remember that my father after saying goodbye to Mrs. Rosa, takes the shirts, then pays them, after having kissed their little son, who is about my age, gives him a rich tip, perhaps to integrate the bill with elegance.
"You see Nico" he says to me at the exit "There are so many people who suffer and we, who are better, we have to help."