nd the
green islands. The town had only some ten thousand inhabitants then, but
several great ships lay in the harbor under the three hills, two of
which now are gone.

The harbor was girded with oaks and pines. Here and there a giant elm,
still the glory of New England, lifted its bowery top like a cathedral
amid towns of trees. Sea birds screamed low over the waters, and ospreys
wheeled high in the air.

Jamie the Scotchman had not many things to occupy his thoughts, so he
sat down to wonder as to what that curious Franklin boy might become.

A new thought struck him.

"He has French blood in him--the old family name used to be Franklein,"
he said to himself. "Now what does that signify? French blood is gentle;
it likes to be free. I don't see that it might not be a good thing to
have; the French like to find out things and give away to others what
they discover."

A shell fell into the water before him from high in the air. The water
spouted up, causing an osprey to swoop down, but to rise again.

Jamie the Scotchman turned his head.

"You, Ben? You follow me 'round everywhere. What makes ye, when I treat
ye so?"

"If a boy didn't hope for anything he would never have the heartache."

"True, true, my boy; and what of that?"

"I would rather expect something and have the heartache."

"No one ever misses his expectations who looks for the heartache in this
world. But what queer turns your mind does take, and what curious
questions you do ask! Let us return to the Blue Ball."

They did, through winding streets, one or more of which were said to
follow the wanderings of William Blackstone's cow from the Common.
Boston still follows the same interesting animal.

There were windmills on the hills and tidemills near the water. There
was a ferryboat between Boston and Charlestown, and on the now Chelsea
side was the great Rumney Marsh. On the Common, which was a pasture, was
a branching elm, a place of executions. Near it was a pond into which
had been cast the Wishing Stone around which, it was reported, that if
one went three times at night and repeated the Lord's Prayer _backward_
at each circuit one might have whatever he wished for. Near the pond and
the great tree were the Charles River marshes. Such was Boston in
1715-'20.

Little Ben went to the South Church on Sundays, and the tithingman was
there. The latter sat in the gallery among the children with his long
rod, called the tithing stick, with wh