The day after the name of Silence Dogood had attracted the attention of Boston town, Benjamin said to Jane, his sympathetic little sister: "Jenny, let's go to walk this evening upon Beacon Hill. I have something to tell you." They went out in the early twilight together, up the brow of the hill which the early settlers seem to have found a blackberry pasture, to the tree where they had gone with Uncle Benjamin on the showery, shining midsummer Sunday. "Can you repeat what Uncle Benjamin said to us here, two years ago?" asked Ben. "No; it was too long. You repeat it to me again and I will learn it." "He said, 'More than wealth, or fame, or anything, is the power of the human heart, and that that power is developed in seeking the good of others.' Jenny, what did father say when he read the piece by Silence Dogood in the Courant?" "He clapped his hand on his leather breeches so that they rattled; he did, Ben, and he exclaimed, 'That is a good one!' and he read the piece to mother, and she asked him who he supposed wrote it, and she shook her head, and he said, 'I wish that I knew.'" "Would you like to know who wrote it, Jenny?" "Yes. Do you know?" "_I_ wrote it. Jenny, you must not tell. I am writing another piece. James does not know. I tucked the manuscript under the door. I am going to put another one under the door at night." "O Ben, Ben, you will be a great man yet, and I hope that I will live to see it. But why did you take the name of _Silence Dogood_?" "That carries out Uncle Ben's idea. It stands for seeking the good of others quietly. That name is what I would like to be." "It is what you will be, Ben. Uncle would say that the Franklin heart is in that name. If you should ever become a big man, Ben, and I should come to see you when we are old, I will say, 'Silence Dogood, more than wealth, more than fame, and more than anything else, is the power of the human heart.' There, I have quoted it correctly now. Maybe the day will come. Maybe we will live to be old, and you will write things that everybody will read, and I will take care of father and mother while you go out into the world." "Wherever I may go, and whatever I may become or fail to be, my heart will always be true to you, Jenny." "And I will do all I can for father and mother; I will be your heart to them, so that you may give your time to your pen. Every one in a family should seek to do for the family what others lack or are not able to do. You can write; I can not, but, Ben, I can love." She walked about the wild rose bushes, where the red-winged blackbirds were singing. "O Ben," she continued, "I am so glad that you wrote that piece, and that father liked it so well! I would not have been more glad had you received a present from a king. Maybe you will receive a present from a king some day, if you write as well as that." "You will keep the secret, Jenny?"