Ben sensibly felt the justice of these criticisms, and after thanking his father for his goodness in making them, assured him, that as he delighted above all things in reading books of a beautiful style, so he was resolved to spare no pains to acquire so divine an art.
The next day, going into a fresh part of the town, with a paper to a new subscriber, he saw, on the side of the street, a little table spread out and covered with a parcel of toys, among which lay an odd volume, with a neat old woman sitting by. As he approached the table to look at the book, the old lady lifting on him a most pleasant countenance, said, "well my little man do you ever dream dreams?"
Ben rather startled at so strange a salutation, replied, that he had dream't in his time.—Well, continued the old woman, and what do you think of dreams; do you put any faith in 'em?
Why, no, madam, answered Ben; as I have seldom had dreams except after taking too hearty a supper, I have always looked on 'em as a mere matter of indigestion, and so have never troubled my head much about 'em.
Well now, replied the old lady, laughing, there's just the difference between you and me. I, for my part, always takes great notice of dreams, they generally turn out so true. And now can you tell what a droll dream I had last night?
Ben answered that he was no Daniel to interpret dreams.
Well, said the old lady, I dreamed last night, that a little man just like you, came along here and bought that old book of me.
Aye! why that's a droll dream sure enough, replied Ben; and pray, Madam, what do you ask for your old book?
Only four pence halfpenny, said the old lady.
Well, Madam, continued Ben, as your dreaming has generally, as you say, turned out true, it shall not be otherwise now; there's your money—so now as you have another reason for putting faith in dreams, you can dream again.