Part 2 (1/2)
”'_In virtue, learning, wisdom, progress make._'”
”I, father.”
”'_Ne'er shrink at suffering for thy Saviour's sake._'”
”N, father. I know what that spells.”
”What?”
”Benjamin.”
”'_Fraud and all falsehood in thy dealings flee._'”
”F,” said the boy.
”'_Religious always in thy station be._'”
”R, father.”
”'_Adore the Maker of thy inward heart._'”
”A, father.”
”'_Now's the accepted time, give him thy heart._'”
”N, father; and now I can guess the rest.”
”'_Keep a good conscience, 'tis a constant friend._'”
”K, father.”
”'_Like judge and witness this thy acts attend._'”
”L.”
”'_In heart with bended knee alone adore._'”
”I.”
”'_None but the Three in One forever more._'”
”N.”
”And to whom are all these things written?”
”'To BENJAMIN FRANKLIN,' sir.”
”Well, my boy, if you will only follow the advice of your Uncle Benjamin, the poet, you never will need any more instruction.--Wife, hear this: Brother Ben writes that he is coming to America as soon as he can settle his affairs, and when he arrives I will give over the training of little Ben to him. He is his G.o.dfather, and he takes a great interest in a boy that he has never seen. Sometimes people are drawn toward each other before they meet--there's a kind of sympathy in this world that is felt in ways unseen and that is prophetic. Your father was a poet, and Uncle Ben, he is one, after a fas.h.i.+on. I wonder what little Ben will be!”
He put on his paper cap and opened the door into the molding-room. The fire was dying out on the hearth, and the candles in the molds were cooling and hardening. He opened the weather door, causing the bell attached to it to ring. He stood looking out on the bowery street of Boston town.