"As soon as I got up I put myself in as decent a trim as I could, and
went to the house of Andrew Bradford, the printer. I found his father in
the shop, whom I had seen at New York. Having traveled on horseback, he
had arrived at Philadelphia before me. He introduced me to his son, who
received me with civility and gave me some breakfast, but told me he had
no occasion at present for a journeyman, having lately procured one. He
added that there was another printer newly settled in the town, of the
name of Keimer, who might perhaps employ me, and that in case of refusal
I should be welcome to lodge at his house. He would give me a little
work now and then till something better should be found.

"The old man offered to introduce me to the new printer. When we were at
his house, 'Neighbor,' said he, 'I bring you a young man in the printing
business; perhaps you may have need of his services.'

"Keimer asked me some questions, put a composing stick in my hand to
see how I could work, and then said that at present he had nothing for
me to do, but that he should soon be able to employ me. At the same time
taking old Bradford for an inhabitant of the town well disposed toward
him, he communicated his project to him and the prospect he had of
success. Bradford was careful not to discover that he was the father of
the other printer; and from what Keimer had said, that he hoped shortly
to be in possession of the greater part of the business of the town, led
him, by artful questions and by starting some difficulties, to disclose
all his views, what his hopes were founded upon, and how he intended to
proceed. I was present and heard it all. I instantly saw that one of the
two was a cunning old fox and the other a perfect novice. Bradford left
me with Keimer, who was strangely surprised when I informed him who the
old man was.

"I found Keimer's printing materials to consist of an old, damaged press
and a small font of worn-out English letters, with which he himself was
at work upon an elegy upon Aquilla Rose, an ingenious young man and of
excellent character, highly esteemed in the town, Secretary to the
Assembly and a very tolerable poet. Keimer also made verses, but they
were indifferent ones. He could not be said to write in verse, for his
method was to set the lines as they followed from his muse; and as he
worked without copy, had but one set of letter cases, and as the elegy
would occupy all his types, it was impossible f