But we have lost sight of Benjamin. We left him at the "tavern" in Amboy, after having spent the night in a cold-water sweat, about ready to start on his journey. Burlington was fifty miles from Amboy, and there was no public conveyance, so that he was obliged to go on foot, expecting to find a boat there bound for Philadelphia.
"Rather a tough day for walking," remarked the landlord, as Benjamin was leaving his house. "Better stay unless your business is driving."
"Rain or shine, I must push on," responded Benjamin cheerfully. "I want to be in Philadelphia as soon as possible. Can't melt, as I am neither sugar nor salt."
"Well, that is a very encouraging view to take of the situation, and it is a sensible one, too," said the landlord. "There's nothing like taking things as they come."
"I have lived long enough to find that out, young as I am," replied
Benjamin; "and I expect to find constant use of that spirit in future.
Good-bye, sir."
"Good luck to you, wherever you go," added the landlord in a friendly tone.
Benjamin was wet through before he had traveled a mile, and he began to wish that he had never left Boston; still he hastened on until he reached a "poor inn" about noon. His own description of that day is as follows:
"It rained very hard all the day; I was thoroughly soaked, and by noon a good deal tired; so I stopped at a poor inn, where I staid all night, beginning now to wish I had never left home. I made so miserable a figure, too, that I found, by the questions asked me, I was suspected to be some runaway indentured servant, and in danger of being taken up on that suspicion."
"Where are you from, young man?"
"From Boston, sir."