to the ground. Nothing but Ben Franklin's cheerful and
resolute spirit could have induced them to persevere.

Ben, as might be expected, was the soul of the enterprise. By his
mechanical genius, he contrived methods to lighten the labor of
transporting the stones; so that one boy, under his directions, would
perform as much as half a dozen, if left to themselves. Whenever their
spirits flagged, he had some joke ready, which seemed to renew their
strength by setting them all into a roar of laughter. And when, after an
hour or two of hard work, the stones were transported to the water-side,
Ben Franklin was the engineer, to superintend the construction of the
wharf.

The boys, like a colony of ants, performed a great deal of labor by their
multitude, though the individual strength of each could have accomplished
but little. Finally, just as the moon sank below the horizon, the great
work was finished.

"Now, boys," cried Ben, "let's give three cheers, and go home to bed.
To-morrow, we may catch fish at our ease!" "Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!"
shouted his comrades.

Then they all went home, in such an ecstasy of delight that they could
hardly get a wink of sleep.

The story was not yet finished; but George's impatience caused him to
interrupt it.

"How I wish that I could have helped to build that wharf!" exclaimed he.
"It must have been glorious fun. Ben Franklin for ever, say I!"

"It was a very pretty piece of work," said Mr. Temple. "But wait till you
hear the end of the story."

"Father," inquired Edward, "whereabouts in Boston was the mill-pond, on
which Ben built his wharf?"

"I do not exactly know," answered Mr. Temple; "but I suppose it to have
been on the northern verge of the town, in the vicinity of what are now
called Merrimack and Charlestown streets. That thronged portion of the
city was once a marsh. Some of it, in fact, was covered with water."

Chapter VIII

As the children had no more questions to ask, Mr. Temple proceeded to
relate what consequences ensued from the building of Ben Franklin's wharf.

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN--CONTINUED

In the morning, when the early sunbeams were gleaming on the steeples and
roofs of the town, and gilding the water that surrounded it, the masons
came, rubbing their eyes, to begin their work at the foundation of the new
house. But, on reaching the spot, they rubbed their eyes so much the
harder. What had become of their heap of stones!

"Why, Sam,"