Now well in his forties, with a wife and children, he did nothing at all, if by nothing one means: going for walks, reading, meeting the most different people, discussing, learning about the smallest event, following this or that plot. An all of this for fun. Just for fun. Denying the need to work at any known job, and consequently, to apply himself to the exacting task earning a living, he no longer sought to gain any profit from any ventures, some of them indeed rather substantial, that he found himself involved in precisely because of all that he knew. And he was called on for help more often than one might think. He only decided to accept certain gifts sometimes, or some money, his fellow citizens still didn't think to offer him books.
Fortunately for him and the rest of the family, his oldest son, a 16 year old boy, serious and enterprising, was already working and provided them with all material needs. He gave his father some pocket money on occaision. They had no rent to pay, because they owned the fine house in a secluded neighborhood in town that they lived in.
Besides, it wasn't precisely true to say that he had never worked. There was a time in his life, a while ago to be sure, when he worked as a leather goods manufacturer.
|