ad passed the first years of his
childhood, learned to waste more of everything than he used. He had been
told that 'gentlemen should be above being careful and saving'; and he
had unfortunately imbibed a notion that extravagance was the sign of a
generous disposition, and economy of an avaricious one.

Benjamin, on the contrary, had been taught habits of care and foresight.
His father had but a very small fortune, and was anxious that his son
should early learn that economy ensures independence, and sometimes puts
it in the power of those who are not very rich to be very generous.

The morning after these two boys arrived at their uncle's they were
eager to see all the rooms in the house. Mr. Gresham accompanied them,
and attended to their remarks and exclamations.

'Oh, what an excellent motto!' exclaimed Ben, when he read the following
words, which were written in large characters over the chimneypiece in
his uncle's spacious kitchen--

'WASTE NOT, WANT NOT.'

'"Waste not, want not!"' repeated his cousin Hal, in rather a
contemptuous tone; 'I think it looks stingy to servants; and no
gentleman's servants, cooks especially, would like to have such a mean
motto always staring them in the face.'

Ben, who was not so conversant as his cousin in the ways of cooks and
gentleman's servants, made no reply to these observations.

Mr. Gresham was called away whilst his nephews were looking at the other
rooms in the house. Some time afterwards he heard their voices in the
hall.

'Boys,' said he, 'what are you doing there?'

'Nothing, sir,' said Hal. 'You were called away from us, and we did not
know which way to go.'

'And have you nothing to do?' said Mr. Gresham.

'No, sir--nothing,' answered Hal in a careless tone, like one who was
well content with the state of habitual idleness.

'No, sir--nothing,' replied Ben, in a voice of lamentation.

'Come,' said Mr. Gresham, 'if you have nothing to do, lads, will you
unpack those two parcels for me?'

The two parcels were exactly alike, both of them well tied up with good
whipcord. Ben took his parcel to a table, and, after breaking off the
sealing-wax, began carefully to examine the knot, and then to untie it.
Hal stood still, exactly in the spot where the parcel was put into his
hands, and tried, first at one corner and then at another, to pull the
string off by force.

'I wish these people wouldn't tie up their parcels so tight, as if they
were never to be