The name of this young man was Meredith, one of Keimer's apprentices. He had taken a great liking to Ben, because that while Keimer, ignorant and crabbed, taught him nothing, Ben was every day giving him some useful lesson in his trade, or some excellent hint in morals, conducive to the government and happiness of his life. In the evening he came and entreated Ben not to think of quitting the printing office while he continued in it. "My dear sir," said he to Ben, "I beg you will take no notice of what this Keimer does. The poor man is always, as you see, _half shaved_; and no wonder, for he is over head and ears in debt--often selling his goods at prime cost, for the sake of _cash_--constantly giving credit without taking any account; and therefore cannot help shortly coming out of the little end of the horn, which will leave a glorious opening for you to make your fortune." Ben replied that he had nothing to begin with. "O, as to that difficulty," answered Meredith, "we can easily get over it. My father has a very high opinion of you, and will, I am sure, readily advance money to set us up, provided you will but go into partnership with me. I am no workman, but you are. And so, if you like, I will find the capital and you the skill, and let's go halves in the profits. By spring we can have in from London, our press, types, and paper, and then, as my time with Keimer will be out, we can fall to work at once, and make our _jacks_." As this was an offer not to be met with every day, Ben readily agreed to it, as also did old Mr. Meredith. But the old gentleman had a better motive in view than the pecuniary profits. He had marked, with great pleasure, Ben's ascendancy over his son, whom he had already wonderfully checked in his passion for tobacco and brandy. And he fondly hoped, that by this connexion his son would be perfectly cured. With this hope, he desired Ben to make him out the list of a _complete_ printing-office, which he immediately took to his merchant, with orders to import it without loss of time. Keimer was to know nothing of all this; and Ben, in the interim, was to get work with Bradford. On application, Bradford had no room. Ben, therefore, had to rest on his oars. This, however, was but for a short season: for Keimer getting a hint that he should be employed to print some New-Jersey paper money, that would require engravings and types which he knew nobody in Philadelphia but Ben could make; and fearful that Bradford, by engaging Ben, might deprive him of the job, sent a very civil message to Ben, telling him that "_old friends ought not to part on account of a few hasty words dropt in a passion_," and concluding with a pressing invitation to come back.