Part 65

Captain Homes read the governor's letter through and remarked, "That is substantially what he wrote to me; and it appears to me that there is a good opening for him in Philadelphia."

"You think that Sir William Keith is reliable, do you?"

"He ought to be. I can't think of any reason why a man in his position should be saying and doing what he don't mean."

"Nor I. And yet it seems almost strange that he should favor a boy of eighteen engaging in such an enterprise, without money and without experience."

"You are wrong, father," answered the captain; "very few young men twenty-two years of age have had the experience he has had. He has occupied positions and met emergencies every time with the promptness and ability of one ten years older."

"That may be so. I think it is so; and it gives me great pleasure that Sir William Keith can write as he does about him. But it can't be expected that a boy of eighteen can have the judgment and wisdom to conduct business for himself, as he will at twenty-two."

"I think it can be expected, and should be expected, if these qualities are as fully developed at eighteen as they are in other young men at twenty-two." The captain was emphatic in his endorsement of Benjamin.

This conversation was interrupted by Benjamin's appearance. He was delighted to meet Captain Homes, and this gentleman was delighted to meet him. The satisfaction was mutual. One of the first questions that Benjamin asked was:

"How did you learn that I was living in Philadelphia?"

"From a citizen of that town, of whom I was inquiring about the business of the place. Incidentally he spoke of a young printer from Boston, who had come there. I met him in Newcastle. He even knew your name."

"'Murder will out' is an old maxim that finds confirmation in my case," responded Benjamin. "But it is all for the best, I think. I am glad that the way was opened for me to return to Boston."

"I have just read Governor Keith's letter to your father, and I hope that he will be able to give you a start in Philadelphia." The captain said this in the presence of Mr. Franklin.

While Mr. Franklin was considering the proposition contained in Governor Keith's letter, Benjamin was busy in calling upon old friends and visiting old resorts. He had been absent seven months, and, in that time, had added two or three times that number of months to his personal appearance. He appeared like a young man twenty-one years of age, and his new apparel imparted to him a grace and comeliness that he lacked when he left Boston. He had developed into a handsome, gentlemanly, intelligent, and witty young man.

It was during this visit to Boston that he called upon Dr. Increase Mather, to whose preaching he listened when a resident of the town. The doctor received him cordially and invited him into his library, where they chatted for some time about books, Philadelphia, and other matters. When Benjamin arose to go, the doctor said:

"Come this way, and I will show you a nearer way out," pointing to a narrow passage with a beam crossing it overhead. They were still talking, the doctor following behind Benjamin, when the latter turned partly about to speak to the former.

"Stoop! Stoop!" shouted the doctor.

Benjamin did not understand what he meant until his head struck the beam overhead with considerable force.

"There," said the doctor, laughing, "you are young and have the world before you; stoop as you go through it, and you may miss many hard thumps."

Nearly seventy years afterwards the recipient of this counsel wrote as follows:

"This advice, thus beaten into my head, has frequently been of use to me; and I often think of it when I see pride mortified, and misfortunes brought upon people by carrying their heads too high."

John Collins was a clerk in the post-office. He revolved the matter of going to Philadelphia with Benjamin a sober youth, or remaining in Boston a drunken one. The more he pondered the more he was inclined to accept Benjamin's advice. The appeal from Collins drunk to Collins sober finally met his approval.

"I have decided to go with you," he said to Benjamin, the next time they met.

"Glad to hear it, John, if you take my advice and leave the drink-habit in Boston. I shall enjoy your company hugely."

"You shall have it. I have given up my position in the post-office, and am packing up now. I want to carry my books with the rest of my traps."

"And I shall take my books this time. I shall ship to New York, where I have some business, and thence to Philadelphia."

"And I want to go by the way of Providence, Rhode Island, to visit friends, and will meet you in New York," responded John.

"Agreed; but remember, John, that you and I are going to steer clear of strong drink. Give it a wide berth, and the way is open before you to success."

"I see it, and mean to act accordingly." John really meant what he said, but the poor fellow did not understand how weak he was. Neither was Benjamin aware that the drink habit was fastened upon him so tightly.