nt, having little to do and help
enough already; but, says he, "My son at Philadelphia has lately lost
his principal hand, Aquilla Rose, by death; if you go thither I
believe he may employ you." Philadelphia was a hundred miles farther;
I set out, however, in a boat for Amboy, leaving my chest and things
to follow me round by sea.

[Illustration: BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
From a portrait by Duplessis]

In crossing the bay we met with a squall that tore our rotten sails to
pieces, prevented our getting into the Kill, and drove us upon Long
Island. In our way, a drunken Dutchman, who was a passenger too, fell
overboard. When he was sinking, I reached through the water to his
shock pate, and drew him up so that we got him in again. His ducking
sobered him a little, and he went to sleep, taking first out of his
pocket a book, which he desired I would dry for him. It proved to be
my old favorite author, Bunyan's _Pilgrim's Progress_, in Dutch,
finely printed on good paper, with copper cuts, a dress better than I
had ever seen it wear in its own language. I have since found that it
has been translated into most of the languages of Europe, and suppose
it has been more generally than any other book, except, perhaps, the
Bible. Honest John was the first that I know of who mixed narration
and dialogue; a method of writing very engaging to the reader, who in
the most interesting parts finds himself, as it were, brought into the
company and present at the discourse. Defoe in his _Crusoe_, his _Moll
Flanders_, _Religious Courtship_, _Family Instructor_, and other
pieces, has imitated it with success, and Richardson has done the same
in his _Pamela_, etc.

When we drew near the island we found it was at a place where there
could be no landing, there being a great surf on the stony beach. So
we dropped anchor, and swung round toward the shore. Some people came
down to the water edge and hallooed to us, as we did to them; but the
wind was so high and the surf so loud that we could not hear so as to
understand each other. There were canoes on the shore, and we made
signs, and hallooed that they should fetch us, but they either did not
understand us or thought it impracticable, so they went away, and
night coming on, we had no remedy but to wait till the wind should
abate. In the meantime, the boatman and I concluded to sleep if we
could, and so crowded into the scuttle with the Dutchman, who was
still wet, and the spray beating over t