out with the crowd. Soon after, meeting a fine-looking young Quaker, who carried his heart in his face, Benjamin inquired, "Can you tell me where a stranger can get a night's lodging?"

66

'Here," answered the Quaker, "is a house where they receive strangers" (pointing to the sign of the Three Mariners near which they stood), "but it is not a reputable one; if thee will walk with me I will shew thee a better one."

"I will be obliged to you for doing so," answered Benjamin. “I was never in Philadelphia before, and am not acquainted with one person here."

The Quaker conducted him to Water Street, and shewed him the Crooked Billet,-a house where he might be accommodated. Benjamin thanked him for his kindness, entered the house, and called for dinner and a room. While sitting at the dinner table, his host asked, "Where are you from?"

"I am from Boston."

"Boston!" exclaimed the host, with some surprise. "How long since you left home?"

This question being answered, he continued, "Have you friends in Philadelphia ?"

"None at all. I do not know a single person here." "What did you come here for?"

"I came to get work in a printing-office. I am a printer by trade."

"How old are you?"

"I am seventeen years old, sir," replied Benjamin, just

beginning to perceive that the man suspected him of being

a runaway.

"And came all the way from Boston alone?"

"Yes, sir."

Benjamin closed the conversation as soon as he could conveniently, after perceiving that his appearance had excited suspicions, and went to his room, where he lay down and slept till six o'clock in the evening, when he was called to supper. He went to bed again very early, and was soon locked in the embrace of "nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep."

CHAPTER XIV.

GETTING WORK.

AFTER a good night's sleep, Benjamin arose and dressed himself as neatly as he could with his old clothes, and repaired to Andrew Bradford's printing-office.

"Ah! then you have arrived," said an old gentleman, rising to salute him as he entered. "I reached here first."

Benjamin was surprised to meet the old printer whom he saw in New York, and who had directed him to his son, Andrew Bradford, of Philadelphia. "I did not expect to meet you here," said he.

"I suppose not. I started off unexpectedly, and came all the way on horseback. But I am glad that you have reached here safely. This is a young man from Boston"

(addressing his son and introducing Benjamin), "after work in a printing-office, and I directed him to you. Franklin is your name, I believe."

"Yes, sir. Benjamin Franklin."

Mr Bradford received him very cordially, and being about to eat breakfast, he said, "Come, it is my breakfast-hour, and you shall be welcome to the table. We can talk this matter over at the table;"—and Benjamin accepted the invitation.

"I told this young man," said the old printer from New York, "that one of your men died a short time since, and you would want a printer to take his place."

"I did

"That is true," replied Mr Andrew Bradford. want another hand to take his place, but I hired one only a few days since. I am sorry to disappoint this youth who has come so far for work."

"Is there another printing-office here ?" asked Benjamin. "Yes; a man by the name of Keimer has just commenced the business, and I think he would be glad to employ you."

"I must get work somewhere," added Benjamin, "for I have spent nearly all my money in getting here."

"If he will not employ you," added Mr Bradford, kindly, "you may lodge at my house, and I will give you a little work from time to time until business is better."

"That will be a great favour to me," answered Benjamin, "for which I shall be very thankful;". and he really felt more grateful to Mr Bradford for the offer than his words indicated.

"I will go with you to see Mr Keimer," said old Mr

Perhaps I can be of some

Bradford from New York. 66 service to you in securing a place."

Benjamin began to think he had fallen into very obliging hands; so he followed their advice, and went with his aged friend to see the newly-established printer. On arriving at the office, they met Mr Keimer, and old Mr Bradford introduced their business by saying, "Neighbour, I have brought to see you a young man of your business; perhaps you may want such a one."

"That depends on his qualifications," answered Mr Keimer. "How long have you worked at the business?" he inquired, turning to Benjamin.

"Several years, sir."

"Do you understand all parts of it, so that you can go on with it ?"

"I think I do; you can try me and satisfy yourself." "Take this composing-stick, and let me see whether you are competent or not," said Keimer.

Benjamin proceeded to exhibit his skill at the work, and very soon satisfied Keimer that he had told the truth.

"Very well done," said Keimer. "I will employ you as soon as I have sufficient work to warrant such a step. At present I have nothing for you to do."

Here Benjamin saw the advantage of having attended to his business closely, so as to learn thoroughly the work he was to do. Some boys perform their work in just a passable way, not caring particularly whether it is well done, if they can only "pass muster." But not so with Benjamin. He sought to understand the business to which he attended,

and to do as well as possible the work he undertook. The consequence was, that he was a thorough workman, and in five minutes he was able to satisfy Keimer of the fact. This was greatly in his favour; and such a young man is never long out of business.

Keimer ultimately engaged Franklin, and went to board with Mr Read, the father of the young lady who stood in the door when he passed on the morning of his arrival, with a roll of bread under each arm, and who afterwards became his wife.

CHAPTER XV.

NEWS FROM HOME, AND RETURN.

FOR some time Benjamin lived contentedly in Philadelphia, striving to forget Boston and old familiar scenes as much as possible. No one at home knew of his whereabouts, except his old friend Collins, who kept the secret well. One day, however, a letter came to his address, and the superscription looked so familiar that Benjamin's hand fairly trembled as he broke the seal. It proved to be from his brother-in-law, Robert Homes, "master of a sloop that traded between Boston and Delaware." He came to Newcastle, it seems, about forty miles from Philadelphia, and hearing of Benjamin's place of residence, he sat down and wrote him a letter, telling him of the deep sorrow into which his depar