THE ROGUE'S WHARF.
"All aboard!" exclaimed Benjamin, and so saying he bounded into the
boat that lay at the water's edge. "Now for a ride: only hurry up, and
make the oars fly;" and several boys leaped in after him from the
shaking, trampled quagmire on which they stood.
"We shall be heels over head in mud yet," said one of the number,
"unless we try to improve the marsh. There is certainly danger that we
shall go through that shaky place, and I scarcely know when we shall
stop, if we begin to go down."
"Let us build a wharf," said Benjamin, "and that will get rid of the
quagmire. It won't be a long job, if all take hold."
"Where will you get your lumber?" inquired John.
"Nowhere. We don't want any lumber, for stones are better," answered
Benjamin.
"It is worse yet to bring stones so far, and enough of them," added
John. "You must like to lift better than I do, to strain yourself in
tugging stones here."
"Look there," continued Benjamin, pointing to a heap of stones only a
few rods distant. "There are stones enough for our purpose, and one or
two hours is all the time we want to build a wharf with them."
"But those stones belong to the man who is preparing to build a house
there," said Fred. "The workmen are busy there now."
"That may all be," said Benjamin, "but they can afford to lend them to
us awhile. They will be just as good for their use after we have done
with them."
"Then you expect they will lend them to you, I perceive; but you'll be
mistaken," answered Fred.
"My mode of borrowing them is this,--we will go this evening, after
the workmen have gone home, and tug them over here, and make the wharf
long before bedtime;" and Benjamin looked queerly as he said it.
"And get ourselves into trouble thereby," replied another boy. "I will
agree to do it if you will bear all the blame of stealing them."
"Stealing!" exclaimed Benjamin. "It is not stealing to take such
worthless things as stones. A man couldn't sell an acre of them for a
copper."
"Well, anyhow, the men who have had the labour of drawing them there
won't thank you for taking them."
"I don't ask them to thank me. I don't think the act deserves any
thanks," and a roguish twinkle of the eye showed that he knew he was
doing wrong. And he added, "I reckon it will be a joke on the workmen
to-morrow morning to find their pile of stones missing."
"Let us do it," said John, who was taken with the idea of playing off
a joke. "I will do my part to carry the thing through."
"And I will do mine," said another; and by this time all were willing
to follow the example of Benjamin, their leader. Perhaps all were
afraid to say "No," according to the dictates of conscience, now that
the enterprise was indorsed by one or two of their number. Boys are
too often disposed to go "with the multitude to do evil." They are
often too cowardly to do what they know is right.
The salt marsh, bounding a part of the millpond where their boat lay,
was trampled into a complete quagmire. The boys were accustomed to
fish there at high water, and so many feet, so often treading on the
spot, reduced it to a very soft condition. It was over this miry marsh
that they proposed to build a wharf.
The evening was soon there, and the boys came together on their
rogue's errand. They surveyed the pile of stones, and found it ample
for their purpose, though it looked like a formidable piece of work to
move them.
"Some of them are bigger than two of us can lift," said Fred.
"Then three of us can hitch to and carry them," said Benjamin. "They
must all be worked into a wharf this evening. Let us begin,--there is
no time to lose."
"The largest must go first," said John. "They are capital ones for the
foundation. Come, two or three must take hold of this," at the same
time laying hold of one of the largest.
So they went to work with decided perseverance (the only commendable
thing about the transaction), sometimes three or four of them working
away at one stone, lifting and rolling it along. Benjamin was never
half so zealous in cutting candle-wicks as he was in perpetrating this
censurable act. He was second to no one of the number in cheerful
active service on this occasion.
The evening was not spent when the last stone was carried away, and
the wharf was finished,--a work of art that answered their purpose
very well, though it was not quite so imposing as Commercial Wharf is
now, and was not calculated to receive the cargo of a very large
Liverpool packet.
"What a capital place it makes for fishing!" exclaimed Fred. "It is
worth all it cost for that."
"Perhaps it will cost more than you think for before we get through
with it," said John. "We can tell better about that when the workmen
find their stones among the missing."
"I should like to hear what they will say," responded Benjamin, "when
they discover what we have done, though I hardly think they will pay
us much of a compliment. But I must hurry home, or I shall have
trouble there. Come on, boys, let us go."
At this they hastened to their homes, not designing to make known the
labours of the evening, if they could possibly avoid interrogation.
They knew that their parents would disapprove of the deed, and that no
excuse could shield them from merited censure. It was not strange,
then, that they were both afraid and ashamed to tell of what they had
done. But we will let twenty-four hours pass. On the following
evening, when Mr. Franklin took his seat at his fireside, Benjamin had
taken his book and was reading.
"Benjamin," said his father, "where was you last evening?"
Benjamin knew by his father's anxious look that there was trouble. He
imagined that he had heard of their enterprise on the previous
evening. After some hesitation, he answered, "I was down to the
water."
"What was you doing there?"
"We were fixing up a place for the boat."
"See that you tell the truth, Benjamin, and withhold nothing. I wish
to know what you did there."
"We built a wharf."
"What had you to build it with?"
"We built it of stones."
"And where did you get your stones?"
"There was a pile of them close by."
"Did they belong to you?"
"I suppose not."
"Did you not know that they belonged to the man who is building the
house?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then you deliberately resolved to steal them, did you?"
"It isn't stealing to take stones."
"Why, then, did you take them in the evening, after the workmen had
gone home? Why did you not go after them when the workmen were all
there?"
Benjamin saw that he was fairly caught, and that, bright as he was, he
could not get out of so bad a scrape unblamed. So he hung his head,
and did not answer his father's last question.
"I see plainly how it is," continued his father; "it is the
consequence of going out in the evening with the boys, which I must
hereafter forbid. I have been willing that you should go out
occasionally, because I have thought it might be better for you than
so much reading. But you have now betrayed my confidence, and I am
satisfied more than ever that boys should be at home in the evening,
trying to improve their minds. You have been guilty of an act that is,
quite flagrant, although it may have been done thoughtlessly. You
should have known better, after having received so much good
instruction as you have had at home."
"I did know better," frankly confessed Benjamin.
"And that makes your guilt so much the greater," added his father. "Do
you think you will learn a lesson from this, and never do the like
again?"
"I will promise that I never will."
Thus frankly did Benjamin confess his wrong, and ever after look upon
that act with regret. In mature age he referred to it, and called it
one of the first evil acts of his life. It was the second time he
_paid too dear for his whistle_.
If seems that the workmen missed their stones, when they first reached
the spot in the morning, and they soon discovered them nicely laid
into a wharf. The proprietor was indignant, and exerted himself to
learn who were the authors of the deed, and in the course of the day
he gained the information, and went directly, and very properly, to
their parents, to enter complaint. Thus all the boys were exposed, and
received just rebuke for their misdemeanor. Benjamin was convinced, as
he said of it many years afterwards, "that that which is not honest,
could not be truly useful."
We have referred to Benjamin's habit of reading. It had been his
custom to spend his evenings, and other leisure moments, in reading.
He was much pleased with voyages, and such writings as John Bunyan's.
The first books he possessed were the works of Bunyan, in separate
little volumes. After becoming familiar with them, he sold them in
order to obtain the means to buy "Burton's Historical Collections,"
which were small, cheap books, forty volumes in all. His father, also,
possessed a good number of books for those times, when books were
rare, and these he read through, although most of them were really
beyond his years, being controversial writings upon theology. His love
of reading was so great, that he even read works of this character
with a degree of interest. In the library, however, were three or four
books of somewhat different character. There was "Plutarch's Lives,"
in which he was deeply interested; also Defoe's "Essay on Projects."
But to no one book was he more indebted than to Dr. Mather's "Essay
to do Good." From this he derived hints and sentiments which had a
beneficial influence upon his after life. He said, forty or fifty
years afterwards, "It gave me a turn of thinking that had an influence
on some of the principal future events of my life." And he wrote to a
son of Cotton Mather, "I have always set a greater value on the
character of a doer of good, than on any other kind of reputation; and
if I have been, as you seem to think, a useful citizen, the public
owes the advantage of it to that book." Some of the sentiments of the
book which particularly impressed him were as follows: "It is possible
that the wisdom of a poor man may start a proposal that may save a
city, save a nation." "A mean (humble) mechanic,--who can tell what an
engine of good he may be, if humbly and wisely applied unto it?" "The
remembrance of having been the man that first moved a good law, were
better than a statue erected for one's memory." These, and similar
thoughts, stimulated his mind to action, and really caused him to
attempt what otherwise would have been impossible.
If Benjamin had been engaged as usual, in reading, on that unfortunate
evening, he would have escaped the guilt of an act that turned out to
be a serious matter rather than a joke. The habit of spending leisure
hours in poring over books, has saved many boys from vice and ruin.
Many more might have been saved, if they had been so fond of books as
to stay at home evenings to read. It is an excellent habit to form,
and tends to preserve the character unsullied, while it stores the
mind with useful knowledge.
We shall see, as we advance, that Benjamin became very systematic and
economical in the use of his time, that he might command every moment
possible to read. The benefit he derived from the exercise when he was
young caused him to address the following letter, many years
thereafter, to a bright, intelligent girl of his acquaintance. The
letter, being devoted to "_Advice on Reading_," is a valuable one to
young persons now.
"I send my good girl the books I mentioned to her last night. I
beg of her to accept of them as a small mark of my esteem and
friendship. They are written in the familiar, easy manner for
which the French are so remarkable, and afford a good deal of
philosophic and practical knowledge, unembarrassed with the dry
mathematics used by more exact reasoners, but which is apt to
discourage young beginners.
"I would advise you to read with a pen in your hand, and enter in
a little book short hints of what you find that is curious, or
that may be useful; for this will be the best method of
imprinting such particulars on your memory, where they will be
ready either for practice on some future occasion, if they are
matters of utility, or, at least, to adorn and improve your
conversation, if they are rather points of curiosity; and, as
many of the terms of science are such as you cannot have met with
in your common reading, and may therefore be unacquainted with, I
think it would be well for you to have a good dictionary at hand,
to consult immediately when you meet with a word you do not
comprehend the precise meaning of.
"This may, at first, seem troublesome and interrupting; but it is
a trouble that will daily diminish, as you will daily find less
and less occasion for your dictionary, as you become more
acquainted with the terms; and, in the meantime, you will read
with more satisfaction, because with more understanding. When any
point occurs in which you would be glad to have further
information than your book affords you, I beg that you would not
in the least apprehend that I should think it a trouble to
receive and answer your questions. It will be a pleasure and no
trouble. For though I may not be able, out of my own little stock
of knowledge, to afford you what you require, I can easily direct
you to the books where it may most readily be found. Adieu, and
believe me ever, my dear friend,
"B. FRANKLIN."