tly pleased the genial old
master.

"That handwriting," he said, "is fit to put before a king. Maybe it will
be some day, who knows? But, Ben," he added, "I am sorry to say it,
although you write your name so well, you are a dunce at doing your
sums. Now, if I were in your place I would make up for that."

In picturing these encouraging schooldays in after years, Benjamin
Franklin kindly says of the old pedagogue: "He was a skillful master,
and successful in his profession, employing the mildest and most
encouraging methods. Under him I learned to write a good hand pretty
soon, but he could not teach me arithmetic."

One afternoon, toward evening, after good Master Brownell had encouraged
him by speaking well of his copy book, he came home with a light heart.
He found his Uncle Benjamin, and his cousin, Samuel Franklin, Uncle
Benjamin's son, at the candle shop.

"Uncle Benjamin," he said, "I have something to show you; I have brought
home my copy book. Master Brownell says it is done pretty well, but that
I ought to do my sums better, and that I 'must make up for that.'"

"He is right, little Ben. We have to try to make up for our defects all
our lives. Let me look at the book. Now that is what I call right good
writing."

"Do you see anything peculiar about it?" asked Ben. "Master Brownell
said that it was good enough to set before a king, and that it might be,
some day."

Little Ben's big brothers, who had come in, laughed, and slapped their
hands on their knees.

Josiah Franklin left his tallow boiling, and said:

"Let me see it, Ben."

He mounted his spectacles and held up the copy book, turning his eyes
upon the boy's signature.

"That flourish to your name does look curious. It is all tied up, and
seems to come to a conclusion, as though your mind had carried out its
original intention. There is character in the flourish. Ben, you have
done well. But you must make up for your sums.--Brother Ben, that is a
good hand, but I guess the sun will go around and around the world many
times before kings ever set their eyes on it. But it will tell for sure.
The good Book says, 'Seest thou a man diligent in his business----'
Well, you all know the rest. I repeat that text often, so that my boys
can hear."

Samuel Franklin, Uncle Ben's son, examined the copy book.

"Samuel," said Uncle Ben, "I used to write a hand something like that. I
wish that I had my pamphlets; I would show you my hand at the time of
th