How he had entertained him by the hour with anecdotes of his early life when he was captain of a baseball team, and what fun he had gotten out of it, and did still, when he could sneak away to help pack the benches.
Had you inquired about Pestler, the druggist, there would have followed some such reply as: "Pestler?
Did you say?
Because Pestler is one of the most surprising men I know.

He has kept that same shop, he tells me, for twenty-two years.

Of course, he knows only a very little about drugs--just enough to keep him out of the hands of the police--but then none of you are aware, perhaps, that Pestler is also a student?
You might think, when you saw only the top of his fuzzy, half-bald head sticking up above the wooden partition, that he was putting up a prescription, but you would be wrong.

What he is really doing, with the aid of his microscope, is dissecting bugs, and pasting them on glass slides for use in the public schools.

And he plays the violin--and very well, too! He often entertains me with his music." Sanderson, the florist, was another denizen who interested him.