And again, though, as the apothecary had said, none of them knew anything about the drug business--no, nor about any other business under the heavens--they were all willing that he should teach them--except one.

A young man of patrician softness and costly apparel tarried a moment after the general exodus, and quickly concluded that on Frowenfeld's account it was probably as well that he could not qualify, since he was expecting from France an important government appointment as soon as these troubles should be settled and Louisiana restored to her former happy condition.

But he had a friend--a cousin--whom he would recommend, just the man for the position; a splendid fellow; popular, accomplished--what?
the best trainer of dogs that M.Frowenfeld might ever hope to look upon; a "so good fisherman as I never saw! "-- the marvel of the ball-room--could handle a partner of twice his weight; the speaker had seen him take a lady so tall that his head hardly came up to her bosom, whirl her in the waltz from right to left--this way! and then, as quick as lightning, turn and whirl her this way, from left to right--"so grezful ligue a peajohn! He could read and write, and knew more comig song!"-- the speaker would hasten to secure him before he should take some other situation.
The wonderful waltzer never appeared upon the scene; yet Joseph made shift to get along, and by and by found a man who partially met his requirements.

The way of it was this: With his forefinger in a book which he had been reading, he was one day pacing his shop floor in deep thought.

There were two loose threads hanging from the web of incident weaving around him which ought to connect somewhere; but where?
They were the two visits made to his shop by the young merchant, Honore Grandissime.