Governor Keith laughed at the prudence of his father in refusing to set up in business such a promising young man. “I will do it myself,” he said. “Give me an inventory of the things necessary to be had from England, and I will send for them. You shall repay me when you are able.”
Thinking him the best man that had ever lived, Franklin brought him the inventory.
“But now,” said Keith, “if you were on the spot in England to choose the types and see that everything was good, might not that be of some advantage? And then you may make acquaintances there and establish correspondences in the bookselling and stationery way.”
Of course that was delightful.
“Then,” said Keith, “get yourself ready to go with Annis,” who was captain of a vessel that traded annually between Philadelphia and London.
Meantime, Franklin made love to Miss Read, who had seen him parading up Market Street with his rolls, and, if we may trust a man’s account of such matters, he succeeded in winning her affections. He had lost all faith in religion, and his example unsettled those friends who associated and read books with him. He was at times invited to dine with the governor, who promised to give him letters of credit for money and also letters recommending him to his friends in England.
He called at different times for these letters, but they were not ready. The day of the ship’s sailing came, and he called to take leave of his great and good friend and to get the letters. The governor’s secretary said that his master was extremely busy, but would meet the ship at New Castle, and the letters would be delivered.
The ship sailed from Philadelphia with Franklin and one of his friends, Ralph, who was going to England, ostensibly on business, but really to desert his wife and child, whom he left in Philadelphia. While the vessel was anchored off New Castle, Franklin went ashore to see Keith, and was again informed that he was very busy, but that the letters would be sent on board.
The despatches of the governor were brought on board in due form by Colonel French, and Franklin asked for those which were to be under his care. But the captain said that they were all in the bag together, and before he reached England he would have an opportunity to pick them out. Arrived in London after a long, tempestuous voyage, Franklin found that there were no letters for him and no money. On consulting with a Quaker merchant, Mr. Denham, who had been friendly to him on the ship, he was told that there was not the slightest probability of Keith’s having written such letters; and Denham laughed at Keith’s giving a letter of credit, having, as he said, no credit to give.
Franklin was stranded, alone and almost penniless, in London. When seven years old he had been given pennies on a holiday and foolishly gave them all to another boy in exchange for a whistle which pleased his fancy. Mortified by the ridicule of his brothers and sisters, he afterwards made a motto for himself, “Don’t give too much for the whistle.” More than fifty years afterwards, when minister to France, he turned the whistle story into a little essay which delighted all Paris, and “Don’t give too much for the whistle” became a cant saying in both Europe and America. He seldom forgot a lesson of experience; and, though he says but little about it, the Keith episode, like the expensive whistle, must have made a deep impression on him and sharpened his wits.