Part 23 (2/2)

Young Franklin presented his father's letter to Governor Keith.

”Your father is too prudent,” said the latter. ”He says that you are too young and unsettled for business. Some people are thirty years old at eighteen. It is not years that are to be considered in this case, but fitness for work. I will start you in business myself.”

Silence Dogood rejoiced. Here was a man who was ”better than a father”--the ”best man in all the world,” he thought.

”Make out an inventory of the things that you need to begin the business of a printer, and I will send to London for them.”

Benjamin did so, an inventory to the amount of one hundred pounds. He brought it to the Governor, who greatly surprised him by a suggestion.

”Perhaps,” said Sir William, ”you would like to go to London and get the machinery yourself. I would give you a letter of credit.”

Was it raining gold?

”I would like to go to London,” answered the young printer.

”Then I will provide for your journey. You shall go with Captain Annis.”

This captain sailed yearly from Philadelphia to London.

Waiting the sailing of the s.h.i.+p months pa.s.sed away. Governor Keith entertained the young printer at his home. The sailing time came.

Franklin went to the office of the Governor to receive the letter of credit and promised letters of introduction.

”All in good time, my boy,” said the Governor's clerk, ”but the Governor is busy and can not see you now. If you will call on Wednesday you will receive the letters.”

Young Franklin called at the office on the day appointed.

”All in good time, my boy,” said the clerk. ”The Governor has not had time to fix them up and get them ready. They will be sent to you on board the s.h.i.+p with the Governor's mail.”

So Franklin went on board the s.h.i.+p. As the Governor's mail came on board he asked the captain to let him see the letters, but the latter told him that he must wait until the s.h.i.+p got under way.

Out at sea the Governor's letters were shown to him. There were several directed to people ”in the care of Benjamin Franklin.” He supposed these contained notes of introduction and the letter of credit, so he pa.s.sed happily over the sea.

He reached London December 24, 1724. He rushed into the grand old city bearing the letters directed in his care. He took the one deemed most important to the office of the gentleman to whom it was directed. ”This letter is from Governor Keith, of the Province of Pennsylvania,” said Franklin.

”I know of no such person,” said the man. The latter opened the letter.

”Oh, I see,” said he, ”it is from one Riddleson. I have found him out to be a rascal, an exile, and refuse to entertain any communication from him.”

Franklin's face fell. His heart turned heavy. He went out wondering.

”Was his father's advice sound, after all?”

The rest of the letters that had been directed in his care were not written by Governor Keith, but by people in the province to their friends, of which he had been made a postboy. There were in the mail no letters of introduction from Governor Keith to any one, and no letter of credit.

He found himself alone in London, that great wilderness of homes. Of Keith's conduct he thus speaks in his autobiography:

”What shall we think of a Governor playing such pitiful tricks, and imposing so grossly upon a poor ignorant boy? It was a habit he had acquired; he wished to please everybody, and having little to give, he gave expectations. He was otherwise an ingenuous, sensible man, a pretty good writer, and a good Governor for the people, though not for his const.i.tuents, the Proprietaries, whose instructions he sometimes disregarded. Several of our best laws were of his planning, and pa.s.sed during his administration.”

He found work as a journeyman printer in London, and we are sorry to say lived like most journeymen printers there. But Silence Dogood had to make himself useful even among these unsettled people. He inst.i.tuted new ways of business and life of advantage to journeymen printers, and so kept the chain of his purpose lengthening.

<script>