He sat down with his large family to a meal of bread and milk, and then took the letter from his pocket and read it over to himself. "Ben," said he, "this is for you. I am going to read it. As I do so, you repeat after me the first letter of the first and of every line. Are you ready? Now. "'_Be to thy parents an obedient son._'" "B," said little Ben. "'_Each day let duty constantly be done._'" "E," the boy continued. "'_Never give way to sloth, or lust, or pride._'" "N, father." "'_Just free to be from thousand ills beside._'" "J, father." "'_Above all ills be sure avoid the shelf._'" "A, father." "'_Man's danger lies in Satan, sin, and self._'" "M, father." "'_In virtue, learning, wisdom, progress make._'" "I, father." "'_Ne'er shrink at suffering for thy Saviour's sake._'" "N, father. I know what that spells." "What?" "Benjamin." "'_Fraud and all falsehood in thy dealings flee._'" "F," said the boy. "'_Religious always in thy station be._'" "R, father." "'_Adore the Maker of thy inward heart._'" "A, father." "'_Now's the accepted time, give him thy heart._'" "N, father; and now I can guess the rest." "'_Keep a good conscience, 'tis a constant friend._'" "K, father." "'_Like judge and witness this thy acts attend._'" "L." "'_In heart with bended knee alone adore._'" "I." "'_None but the Three in One forever more._'" "N." "And to whom are all these things written?" "'To BENJAMIN FRANKLIN,' sir." "Well, my boy, if you will only follow the advice of your Uncle Benjamin, the poet, you never will need any more instruction.--Wife, hear this: Brother Ben writes that he is coming to America as soon as he can settle his affairs, and when he arrives I will give over the training of little Ben to him. He is his godfather, and he takes a great interest in a boy that he has never seen. Sometimes people are drawn toward each other before they meet--there's a kind of sympathy in this world that is felt in ways unseen and that is prophetic. Your father was a poet, and Uncle Ben, he is one, after a fashion. I wonder what little Ben will be!" He put on his paper cap and opened the door into the molding-room. The fire was dying out on the hearth, and the candles in the molds were cooling and hardening. He opened the weather door, causing the bell attached to it to ring. He stood looking out on the bowery street of Boston town. On the hill rose the North Church in the shadows near the sea. A horn rent the still air. A stage coach from Salem came rolling in and stopped at the Boston Stone, not far away. A little girl tripped down the street. "A pound of candles, sir." "Hoi, yes, yes," and he took some candles out of a mold and laid them in the scales. The girl courtesied, and the tallow chandler closed the door with a ting-a-ling. Then Josiah sat down with his family and played the violin. He loved his brother Benjamin, and the thought of his coming made him a happy man.