Chapter 40

When Finn was given sustenance and a bed in trade for his chores. When reimbursed in silver coin, it was usually meager enough to appease both needs, in which case he spent the fortune on sustenance. True, the "bed" he was given was usually barely permitted to sleep upon aground in a kitchen or stable, but the resort was worse: the thoroughfare.

Met with this destiny, Finn would crawl through the alleys and roads, the stench of piss and shite surging from the humid cobblestones, whilst he surveyed the rooftops for a smoking chimney. He would then search for an interrelated veneer fireplace wall against which to curl, hoping for a spot with overhanging eaves to avert the rain, or worse, the storm, and one not under a window out of which a chamber pot might be emptied.

But all too often, no labor was coming, or he was shooed away with differing invectives about his personality and parentage, then he turned to digging in rubbish bundles for crumbs of food or begging for sil