CHAPTER I. THE WHISTLE. It was a bright, welcome holiday to little Benjamin Franklin, when his kind parents put some coppers into his pocket, to spend as he saw fit. Possibly it was the first time he was ever permitted to go out alone into the streets of Boston with money to spend for his own pleasure; for he was now but seven years old. "Can I have more coppers when these are gone?" he inquired. "No," replied his mother, "you have quite as... more...

CHAPTER I. A GOOD BEGINNING. A little patch of ground enclosed by a fence, a few adjacent trees, Nat with his hoe in hand, his father giving directions, on one of the brightest May mornings that was ever greeted by the carol of birds, are the scenes that open to our view. "There, Nat, if you plant and hoe your squashes with care, you will raise a nice parcel of them on this piece of ground. It is good soil for squashes." "How many seeds shall... more...

BOYHOOD TO MANHOOD. I. FROM OLD ENGLAND TO NEW ENGLAND. "I am tired of so much persecution under the reign of our corrupt king," said a neighbor to Josiah Franklin, one day in the year 1685, in the usually quiet village of Banbury, England, "and I believe that I shall pull up stakes and emigrate to Boston. That is the most thriving port in America." "Well, I am not quite prepared for that yet," replied Franklin. "Our king is bad enough and... more...