On the day that he was seven years old, his mother gave him a few
pennies.
He looked at the bright, yellow pieces and said, "What shall I do with
these coppers, mother?"
It was the first money that he had ever had.
"You may buy something, if you wish," said his mother.
"And then will you give me more?" he asked.
His mother shook her head and said: "No, Benjamin. I cannot give you
any more. So you must be careful not to spend these foolishly."
The little fellow ran into the street. He heard the pennies jingle in
his pocket. How rich he was!
Boston is now a great city, but at that time it was only a little town.
There were not many stores.
As Benjamin ran down the street, he wondered what he should buy. Should
he buy candy? He hardly knew how it tasted. Should he buy a pretty
toy? If he had been the only child in the family, things might have
been different. But there were fourteen boys and girls older than he,
and two little sisters who were younger.
What a big family it was! And the father was a poor man. No wonder the
lad had never owned a toy.
He had not gone far when he met a larger boy, who was blowing a
whistle.
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