Benjamin thanked the sexton for waking him instead of locking him in, and went out into the street. He had not proceeded far before he met a Quaker whose face indicated a man of amiable and generous heart, and Benjamin ventured to speak to him. "I am a stranger in this town; arrived here this morning; can you tell me where I can get a night's lodging?" "Certainly I can; I suppose thee wants a respectable place." The gentleman spoke so kindly as to draw Benjamin to him at once. "Yes, sir; but not an expensive one; my purse will not permit of any extra expense." "Thee going to remain here some time?" "Permanently, if I can get work; I am a printer by trade." "I wish thee success," added the Quaker. "But here we are close by the 'Three Mariners'; but it is not exactly a reputable house, and thee wants a better one." "Yes; I want one that has a good reputation if there is such a one," said Benjamin. "Well, if thee will follow me, I will show thee a better one; it is not far away." Benjamin followed him into Water Street, where he pointed out a public house. "There's the 'Crooked Billet,'" said the Quaker, "a tavern that is reputable, where thee can find board and lodgings for a day or a year." "Thank you, sir, for your kindness," said Benjamin; "I shall not forget you. May every body be as friendly to you as you have been to me." At the same time, Benjamin thought it was a very queer name for a public house. He did not like either part of it, and he said to himself, "'Crooked Billet'!--crookedness and a cudgel to strike down the turbulent with, are suggested." The name did not suggest any thing pleasant to him. But he went in, and engaged lodging and board until Monday. "Where are you from?" asked the landlord, scanning him from head to foot. "I am from Boston." "Boston, hey? How long have you been on the way?" "Two weeks." "Got friends in Philadelphia?" "Not one; all strangers to me." "What did you come here for?" "I came to secure work in a printing office. I am a printer by trade." "How old are you?" "Seventeen." "And came all the way from Boston alone?" "Yes, sir." Benjamin saw by this time that the landlord suspected him of being a runaway apprentice. This class of characters was large at that day, for apprentices were often subjected to cruelty that made them runaways. So he closed the conversation as soon as possible and went to his room, where he slept until six o'clock, when he was called to supper. Not long after supper he went to bed and slept soundly until morning. He arose early, took special pains to make himself as presentable as possible, paid his bill without waiting for breakfast, perhaps because he was reducing his cash so nearly to the last cent, and sallied forth in search of Mr. Bradford. He experienced no trouble in finding the printing office; but was very much surprised to find Mr. Bradford of New York there, father of the young printer Bradford of Philadelphia, to whom the father sent him.