This Palmer was an amiable man, and in Ben's countenance, now mellowed more than ordinary, by his late disappointment, he saw a something that interested him greatly in his favour. He asked Ben in what part of London he had learned the art of printing. Ben told him he had never set a type in London. "Aye! where then," said Palmer; "in Paris?" Ben replied, that he was just from Pennsylvania, in North America; and that what little he knew of printing he had picked up there. Palmer, though, in other respects, amiable, was one of those thorough-gone COCKNEYS, who can't believe that any thing can be learned out of the sound of "_Bow-bell_." He stared at Ben on saying he had learned to print in North America, as would a French petit maitre at one who said he had learned to _dance among the Hottentots_. "I am afraid, sir," said he to Ben, "that I cannot employ you, as I really felt a wish to do; for though I now command fifty workmen, I want a _Gabber_, _i.e._ a man uncommonly quick, and of a satirical turn. And in neither of these characters, sir, will you, probably, suit me, sir--however, sir, as it is late now, and I have business out, if you will call in the morning, we will see about it." Next morning, before sunrise, Ben waited at Palmer's office, where numbers of his journeymen, having heard of the young North American printer, were assembled to see him work. Palmer was not yet up. An apprentice went to inform him that the young printer from North America, was come. Presently Mr. Palmer made his appearance, looking somewhat confused. "And so you are a buckskin, sir," said he, rather cavalierly. "Yes sir," replied Ben, "I am a buckskin." "Well sir, I am afraid you'll not make your fortune by that here in London," said Palmer. "No sir," answered Ben, "I find it is thought a misfortune here, to have been born in America. But I hope it was the will of heaven, and therefore must be right." "Aye!" replied Palmer, a little tauntingly; "and so you have _preaching_ there too!! But do the buckskins generally stir so early as this?" Ben replied, that the Pennsylvanians were getting to find out that it was _cheap burning sun-light_. Here Palmer and his cockneys stared at him, as country buckskins are wont to do at a monkey, or parrot, or any such creature that pretends to mimic man. "You talk of _sun-light_, sir," said the foreman to Ben: "can you tell the cause of that wide difference between the light of the sun in England and America?" Ben replied that he had never discovered that difference. "What! not that the sun shines brighter in London than in America--the sky clearer--the air purer--and the light a thousand times more vivid--and luminous--and cheering--and all that?" Ben said that he could not understand how that could be, seeing it was the same sun that gave light to both.