He was of foreign birth,
but had served gallantly through the war and had left an arm upon the
battlefield. He made his request for a copy of the war record of Obadiah
Strout, of the --th Mass. Volunteers. Then a thought came suddenly to
him and he requested one also of the record of Hiram Maxwell of the same
regiment.
Leaving the State House on the Hancock Avenue side, he walked down that
narrow but convenient thoroughfare, and was standing at its entrance to
the sidewalk on Beacon Street, debating which publisher he would call on
first, when a cheery voice said, "Hello, Sawyer." When he looked up he
saw an old Latin School and college chum, named Leopold Ernst. Ernst was
a Jew, but he had been one of the smartest and most popular of the boys
in school and of the men at Harvard.
"What are you up to?" asked Ernst.
"Living on my small fortune and my father's bounty," said Quincy. "Not a
very creditable record, I know, but my health has not been very good,
and I have been resting for a couple of months in the country."
"Not much going on in the country at this time of the year I fancy,"
remarked Ernst.
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