"I am, sir."
"I am sorry for you," said he, "for it is an expensive undertaking, and you are throwing away your money."
"How so?"
"Because Philadelphia is degenerating, and half the people are now bankrupt, or nearly so, and how can they support so many printers?"
"But the appearance of Philadelphia," replied Benjamin, "indicates thrift. See how many buildings are going up, and how rents are rising every month. This does not look like going backward."
"These are among the very things that will ruin us," responded Mickle. "They are not evidence of prosperity, but of extravagance, that will bring disaster sooner or later."
In this strain, Mickle, who was one of those eccentric and unhappy men who always look upon the dark side of things, went on, until Benjamin really began to feel dismayed. But on the whole, he believed that the evidence of his own senses was to the contrary, and so he soon forgot the interview. Mickle continued to live there some years, refusing to buy a house because the town was going to ruin, and at last he purchased one for five times what he could have had it for at the time he talked to Benjamin.
In their printing-office, Franklin suspended the following lines, which he composed:—
"All ye who come this curious art to see,
To handle anything must careful be;
Lest by a slight touch, ere you are aware,
You may do mischief which you can't repair,
Lo! this advice we give to every stranger!
Look on and welcome, but to touch there's danger."
This singular notice attracted some attention, and elicited remarks from different visitors.