His brother was a hard master, and was always finding fault with his workmen. Sometimes he would beat young Benjamin and abuse him without cause.

When Benjamin was nearly seventeen years old he made up his mind that he would not endure this treatment any longer.

He told his brother that he would leave him and find work with some one else.

When his brother learned that he really meant to do this, he went round to all the other printers in Boston and persuaded them not to give Benjamin any work.

The father took James's part, and scolded Benjamin for being so saucy and so hard to please. But Benjamin would not go back to James's printing house.

He made up his mind that since he could not find work in Boston he would run away from his home. He would go to New York and look for work there.

He sold his books to raise a little money. Then, without saying good-bye to his father or mother or any of his brothers or sisters, he went on board a ship that was just ready to sail from the harbor.

It is not likely that he was very happy while doing this. Long afterwards he said: "I reckon this as one of the first _errata_ of my life."

What did he mean by _errata?_

_Errata_ are mistakes--mistakes that cannot easily be corrected.

Three days after leaving Boston, young Franklin found himself in New York. It was then October, in the year 1723.

The lad had but very little money in his pocket. There was no one in New York that he knew. He was three hundred miles from home and friends.

As soon as he landed he went about the streets looking for work.

New York was only a little town then, and there was not a newspaper in it. There were but a few printing houses there, and these had not much work to do. The boy from Boston called at every place, but he found that n.o.body wanted to employ any more help.

At one of the little printing houses Franklin was told that perhaps he could find work in Philadelphia, which was at that time a much more important place than New York.

Philadelphia was one hundred miles farther from home. One hundred miles was a long distance in those days.

But Franklin made up his mind to go there without delay. It would be easier to do this than to give up and try to return to Boston.

VII.--THE FIRST DAY IN PHILADELPHIA.

There are two ways of going from New York to Philadelphia.

One way is by the sea. The other is by land, across the state of New Jersey.

As Franklin had but little money, he took the shorter route by land; but he sent his little chest, containing his Sunday clothes, round by sea, in a boat.

He walked all the way from Perth Amboy, on the eastern sh.o.r.e of New Jersey, to Burlington, on the Delaware river.

Nowadays you may travel that distance in an hour, for it is only about fifty miles.

But there were no railroads at that time; and Franklin was nearly three days trudging along lonely wagon-tracks, in the midst of a pouring rain.

At Burlington he was lucky enough to be taken on board a small boat that was going down the river.

Burlington is only twenty miles above Philadelphia. But the boat moved very slowly, and as there was no wind, the men took turns at rowing.

Night came on, and they were afraid that they might pa.s.s by Philadelphia in the darkness. So they landed, and camped on sh.o.r.e till morning.

Early the next day they reached Philadelphia, and Benjamin Franklin stepped on sh.o.r.e at the foot of Market street, where the Camden ferry-boats now land.

No one who saw him could have guessed that he would one day be the greatest man in the city.

He was a sorry-looking fellow.

He was dressed in his working clothes, and was very dirty from being so long on the road and in the little boat.

His pockets were stuffed out with shirts and stockings, and all the money that he had was not more than a dollar.

He was hungry and tired. He had not a single friend. He did not know of anyplace where he could look for lodging.

It was Sunday morning.

He went a little way up the street, and looked around him.

A boy was coming down, carrying a basket of bread.

"My young friend," said Franklin, "where did you get that bread?"

"At the baker's," said the boy.

"And where is the baker's?"

The boy showed him the little baker shop just around the corner.

Young Franklin was so hungry that he could hardly wait. He hurried into the shop and asked for three-penny worth of bread.

The baker gave him three great, puffy rolls.

Franklin had not expected to get so much, but he took the rolls and walked out.

His pockets were already full, and so, while he ate one roll, he held the others under his arms.

As he went up Market street, eating his roll, a young girl stood in a doorway laughing at him. He was, indeed, a very funny-looking fellow.

The girl's name was Deborah Read. A few years after that, she became the wife of Benjamin Franklin.

Hungry as he was, Franklin found that he could eat but one of the rolls, and so he gave the other two to a poor woman who had come down the river in the same boat with him.

As he was strolling along the street he came to a Quaker meeting-house.

The door was open, and many people were sitting quietly inside. The seats looked inviting, and so Franklin walked in and sat down.