e during the day."

"It is an excellent plan for boys to improve their minds," said Mr.
Adams; "you will never regret spending your time in this way. I should
be glad to show you my library, and to lend you any books you may be
interested to read."

"That is what I should like," said Benjamin, evidently delighted with
this unexpected offer; "I find it difficult to get all the books I
want."

"It would afford me great pleasure to assist you what little I can in
this respect," repeated Mr. Adams. "Boys who are not privileged to go
to school need such help, and I am glad to see that you are disposed
to accept of it."

Benjamin thanked him for his kindness, and assured him that he should
embrace the first opportunity to call at his house. He redeemed his
promise at his earliest convenience, and Mr. Adams received him with
genuine cordiality. He showed him his library, and allowed him to
select any book he preferred to carry home, and invited him to come as
often as he pleased for others. This was a brimful cup of kindness to
Benjamin, and the reader may be sure that he thought highly of Mr.
Adams. Nor was he backward in availing himself of the privilege
offered, but went often to gratify his thirst for knowledge.

The reader can scarcely appreciate the value of this privilege to
Benjamin, unless he understands that books were far from being
abundant then. The bookstores, instead of being furnished with
thousands of volumes to suit every taste in the reading world, offered
only a meagre collection of volumes, such as would hardly be noticed
at the present time. There were no large publishing houses,
manufacturing many books in a year, and scattering them over the land,
as is the case to-day. Neither were there any libraries at that time.
The idea of a collection of books to lend for the public good had not
entered the minds of men,--a striking contrast with this feature of
society now, when a city like Boston opens its splendid Public Library
of seventy-five thousand volumes, free to all her citizens, and
smaller towns and villages throughout the land furnish reading matter
for old and young in similar proportion; whilst private libraries of
five, ten, twenty, and thirty thousand volumes are not unusual. Now,
the trouble with boys is not how they can possibly get books to read,
but what they shall select from the vast number that load the shelves
of libraries and bookstores.

The habit of reading which Benjamin had t