There was a man in the East who heard of this, and set his brain to work. He was a young man by the name of E-li Whit-ney; and he had not seen the plant when he took it in his head that he could find a way to "gin" it; for that is the name of the work. He had to walk all the way to one of the towns at the South, to get the seed, and as he had no tools or wire, he had to make them. You may think that was slow work, but he had a strong will, and when he had made a rude "gin," he bade his friends come and see how it would do. All saw that it would work well; but some thieves broke in his house at night and stole it. So there was a long time that the man who made the "gin" got nought for it. For those who stole it made gins like it and sold them. These gins did the work well and fast, and so there grew up a great trade for us in this soft white fluff. It is made in cloth for you to wear, and is spread on your beds, and will take all sorts of bright dyes. We sell it to all the world, and wealth flows in on all sides. This would not have been the case had not the young man, E-li Whit-ney, made the "gin." The death of one of the great men of the land came to pass at this time. We have told you of Ben-ja-min Frank-lin. He was born in Bos-ton, and he was the son of a poor man. But he knew how to print, and he set up a press in a room where he could print each morn the news of the day. He did not scorn to sell all sorts of wares as well, such as rags, ink, soap, and such things. He had read a great deal, and found out more than those round him knew. You have seen the sharp light play in the dark clouds in a storm. You know that it strikes at times; it may be a house or a barn or a man, and that the one who is struck is apt to die. Well, Frank-lin thought that this light could be drawn down from the skies, and when he heard a laugh at this, he set to work to prove it. He sent his son out one day in a storm, with a kite in his hand. As a low black cloud went by, they saw the fierce light tear through it; it would seem that the light ran down the string of the kite. Frank-lin had put a key on this string, and when he made his friends touch that key, they drew sparks from it. So they saw that he had found out a great thing; and from that has come the plan of the rods that are now put on a house to keep it safe in a storm. This gave him fame here and in the rest of the world. He was sent to France and made strong friends for us there. He is said to have done more good works for his land than all the rest of the men of his time. So it is not strange that all felt sad when death took him from us. The French, too, met in their great hall to mourn his loss; and one of their chiefs said, "The sage whom two worlds claim as their own is dead;" and they wore crape on their arms for three days, for his sake.