In the middle of the week a new shipping-clerk, a German by the name
of Bretzwartz, was engaged, and, though everybody in the establishment
found it hard at first to understand the young man's broken English,
yet he was such a jolly fellow--as well as an honest and capable
one--that he was soon on good terms all around.
During the evenings of this week Richard wrote a great number of letters
to the Grand Army and other military organizations, in the hope of
finding some one who had known his father during the war or immediately
after it.
On Thursday evening Frank accompanied him to the neighborhood in which
Mr. Dare had once resided; but, though the two spent nearly three hours
in the search, no trace of any former acquaintance was found.
"You see it's different here from what it is in the country," said
Frank, when they were returning. "Here you often find that people don't
know who lives next door, or even in the same house with them. It
sounds queer, but it's true. No one is introduced, no one is sociable,
and the majority are continually moving, in the hope of finding a
better dwelling or cheaper rent."
"Yes, I noticed that," replied Richard, with something like a sigh.
"Out in the country everybody knows everybody else, and outside of a
few prim people all are as sociable as can be.
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