,
since it enables one to find or make a reason for everything
one has a mind to do."

It was in the beautiful month of October, 1723, when Benjamin landed
on the wharves of New York. He was not quite eighteen years of age;
had but little money in his purse; and was without any letter of
recommendation or any acquaintance in the town. The place consisted of
but seven or eight thousand inhabitants. The streets were the crooked
lanes which we still find in the vicinity of the Battery. Some of the
most important were uncomfortably paved with cobble stones. Most of
the inhabitants were Dutch, reading and speaking only the Dutch
language. There was at that time indeed, but little encouragement for
an English printer. There was but one bookstore then in New York; and
but one printing office, which was conducted by William Bradford.

The runaway apprentice could find no employment. But William Bradford
had a son in Philadelphia who was also a printer. He said to Benjamin,

"He may employ you, as he has recently lost an apprentice by death."

Leaving his chest of clothes to go round by sea to Philadelphia,
Benjamin took passage in a small dilapidated shore boat which crept
along the coast to Amboy. A drunken Dutchman was his only fellow
passenger. The gloom of the primeval forest overshadowed Governor's
Island: not a single cabin as yet had been reared in its solitudes. A
squall struck the boat, split its sail, and pitched the Dutchman
overboard. Franklin caught him by the hair and saved him from
drowning. The sudden tempest increased into a storm, and the boat was
driven fiercely before the gale. The surf dashed so violently upon the
shore that they could not venture to land. Night approached.
Exhausted, drenched and hungry, they cast anchor near the Long Island
shore, where a bend in the land afforded them slight protection while
still they were in great danger. There were one or two log cabins in
the vicinity. Several of the men came to the shore, but could afford
them no relief. They had no provision on board excepting a single
bottle of bad rum. All night long the tempest beat upon them. In the
morning the wind had so far lulled that they were enabled to repair
their sail, and to work their way on to Amboy.

It was late in the afternoon when they reached the port. For thirty
hours they had been without food or water. Such were the perils of a
passage from New York to Philadelphia in the year 1723.

Frankli