On April 12, 1790, a pain in the chest and difficulty of breathing, which had been giving him much trouble, ceased for a short while, and he insisted upon getting up in order to have his bed re-made; for he wished to "die in a decent manner." His daughter expressed the conventional wish that he might yet recover and live many years. "I hope not," he replied. Soon afterward the pain returned, and he was advised to change his position, so that he could breathe more easily. "A dying man can do nothing easy," he said; and these are the last words which he is known to have uttered. Soon afterward he sank into a lethargy, and so remained until at eleven o'clock, P. M., on April 17, 1790, he died. A great procession and a concourse of citizens escorted his funeral, and Congress voted to "wear the customary badge of mourning for one month." The bits of crape were all very well, a conventional, insignificant tribute; but unfortunately the account of the country, or at least of Congress as representing the country, did not stand very honorably, to say nothing of generously, with one of its oldest, most faithful, and most useful servants.[103] Again and again Franklin had asked for some modest office, some slight opening, for his grandson, Temple Franklin. The young man's plans and prospects in life had all been sacrificed to the service of Franklin as his secretary, which was in fact the service of the country; yet he had never been able to collect even the ordinary salary pertaining to such a position. Throughout a long life of public service, often costly to himself in his own affairs, Franklin had never asked any other favor than this, which after all was rather compensation than favor, and this was never given to him. When one reflects how such offices are demanded and awarded in these days, one hardly knows whether to be more ashamed of the present or of the past. But this was not all nor even the worst; for Franklin's repeated efforts to get his own accounts with the government audited and settled never met with any response. It needed only that Congress should appoint a competent accountant to examine and report. Before leaving France Franklin had begged for this act of simple, business-like justice, which it was the duty of Congress to initiate without solicitation; he had the fate of the "poor unhappy Deane" before his eyes, to make him uncomfortable, but in this respect he was treated no better than that misused man. After his return home he continued his urgency during his last years, not wishing to die leaving malignant enemies behind him, and accounts open which he could no longer explain and elucidate. Indeed, stories were already circulating that he was "greatly indebted to the United States for large sums that had been put into [his] hands, and that [he] avoided a settlement;" yet this request was still, with unpardonable disregard of decency and duty, utterly ignored. He never could get the business