LESSON 126

_{FRANKLIN’S ENTRY INTO PHILADELPHIA}

富兰克林进入费城

Benjamin Franklin, 1706-1790, was born in Boston. He received little schooling, but being apprenticed to his brother, a printer, he acquired a taste for reading and study. In 1723, he went to Philadelphia, where he followed his chosen calling, and in time became the publisher of the “Pennsylvania Gazette” and the celebrated “Poor Richard’s Almanac.”

As a philosopher Franklin was rendered famous by his discovery of the identity of lightning with electricity. His career in public affairs may be briefly summarized as follows: In 1736 he was made Clerk of the Provincial Assembly; in 1737, deputy postmaster at Philadelphia; and in 1753, Postmaster general for British America. He was twice in England as the agent of certain colonies. After signing the Declaration of Independence, he was sent as Minister Plenipotentiary to France in 1776. On his return, in 1785, he was made “President of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania,” holding the office three years. He was also one of the framers of the Constitution of the United States.

As a writer Franklin commenced his career when only twelve years old by composing two ballads, which, however, he condemned as “wretched stuff.” Franklin’s letters and papers on electricity, afterwards enlarged by essays on various philosophical subjects, have been translated into Latin, French, Italian, and German. The most noted of his works, and the one from which the following extract is taken, is his “Autobiography.” This book is “one of the half dozen most widely popular books ever printed,” and has been published in nearly every written language. Franklin founded the American Philosophical Society, and established an institution which has since grown into the University of Pennsylvania. His life is a noble example of the results of industry and perseverance, and his death was the occasion of public mourning.

Walking in the evening by the side of the river, a boat came by, which I found was going towards Philadelphia, with several people in her. They took me in, and, as there was no wind, we rowed all the way; and about midnight, not having yet seen the city, some of the company were confident we must have passed it, and would row no farther; the others knew not where we were; so we put toward the shore, got into a creek, landed near an old fence, with the rails of which we made a fire, the night being cold, in October, and there we remained till daylight.

Then one of the company knew the place to be Cooper’s Creek, a little above Philadelphia, which we saw as soon as we got out of the creek, and arrived there about eight or nine o’clock on the Sunday morning, and landed at the Market Street wharf.

I have been the more particular in this description of my journey, and shall be so of my first entry into that city, that you may in your mind compare such unlikely beginnings with the figure I have since made there.

I was in my working dress, my best clothes being to come round by sea. I was dirty from my journey; my pockets were stuffed out with shirts and stockings, and I knew no soul nor where to look for lodging. I was fatigued with traveling, rowing, and want of rest; I was very hungry; and my whole stock of cash consisted of a Dutch dollar, and about a shilling in copper. The latter I gave the people of the boat for my passage, who at first refused it on account of my rowing; but I insisted on their taking it,—a man being sometimes more generous when he has but a little money than when he has plenty, perhaps through fear of being thought to have but little.

Then I walked up the street gazing about, till, near the market house, I met a boy with bread. I had made many a meal on bread, and, inquiring where he got it, I went immediately to the baker’s he directed me to, in Second Street, and asked for biscuit, intending such as we had in Boston: but they, it seems, were not made in Philadelphia. Then I asked for a threepenny loaf, and was told they had none such. So not considering or knowing the difference of money, and the greater cheapness nor the names of his bread, I bade him give threepenny worth of any sort. He gave me, accordingly, three great puffy rolls. I was surprised at the quantity, but took it, and, having no room in my pockets, walked off with a roll under each arm, and eating the other.

Thus I went up Market Street as far as Fourth Street, passing by the door of Mr. Read, my future wife’s father: when she, standing at the door, saw me, and thought I made, as I certainly did, a most awkward, ridiculous appearance. Then I turned and went down Chestnut Street and part of Walnut Street, eating my roll all the way, and, coming round, found myself again at Market Street wharf, near the boat I came in, to which I went for a draught of the river water; and, being filled with one of my rolls, gave the other two to a woman and her child that came down the river in the boat with us, and were waiting to go farther.

Thus refreshed, I walked again up the street, which by this time had many clean-dressed people in it, who were all walking the same way. I joined them, and thereby was led into the great meetinghouse of the Quakers, near the market. I sat down among them, and, after looking round awhile and hearing nothing said, being very drowsy through labor and want of rest the preceding night, I fell fast asleep, and continued so till the meeting broke up, when one was kind enough to rouse me. This was, therefore, the first house I was in, or slept in, in Philadelphia.

Walking down again toward the river, and looking in the faces of people, I met a young Quaker man, whose countenance I liked, and, accosting him, requested he would tell me where a stranger could get lodging. We were then near the sign of the Three Mariners. “Here,” says he, “is one place that entertains strangers, but it is not a reputable house; if thee wilt walk with me, I’ll show thee a better.” He brought me to the Crooked Billet, in Water Street. Here I got a dinner; and, while I was eating it, several sly questions were asked me, as it seemed to be suspected from my youth and appearance that I might be some runaway. After dinner my sleepiness returned, and, being shown to a bed, I lay down without undressing, and slept till six in the evening; was called to supper, went to bed again very early, and slept soundly till next morning.

【中文阅读】

傍晚在河边漫步，这时来了一条船，我发现原来是驶往费城的，船上坐了好几个人。他们招呼我上了船，由于没有风，结果一路上我们用尽力气划船；大约午夜时分，由于那座城市连影子都不见，有人便信誓旦旦地说我们准是过了费城了，不想再划下去了。其他人也不晓得我们到底在什么地方，于是我们向河岸驶去，拐进一道小溪，在一道破旧的栅栏附近登了岸。当时恰逢深秋十月，晚上很冷，我们便用木栅生火取暖，在那里挨到天亮。

船上有个人认出这地方是库珀河，在费城的北面一点。我们一离开这道小溪就能看到费城了。大约在星期日早晨八九点钟到达那里，在市场街码头上了岸。

我对于这次旅程的叙述尤为详细，对我初次进入该城的情形也将详细描述，这样有助于读者诸君在心里能把这种希望渺茫的开始，与我日后在那里做出一些事情做一对比。

我身着工作服，我最好的衣服要通过海上才能运来。一路上我蓬头垢面；口袋里满是衬衫和袜子，放眼望去一个熟人也没有，也不晓得到何处落脚。一路饥餐渴饮、划船和得不到休息，我感到疲倦至极。我饥肠辘辘，可是我身上全部现金加起来只有一元荷兰币和大约值一先令的铜币。我把铜币付给船上的人作为船资，他们起初一再推辞，因为我划船了，但是我坚持要他们收下——当一个人只有很少的钱财时，有时候反倒比他钱多时更慷慨，也许是害怕人家把他当成吝啬鬼的缘故吧。

然后，我来到街上，四处张望，直到溜达到市场附近，才遇见一个手拿着面包的男孩子。先前我曾有好多次只以面包来充饥。向他打听在哪儿买的面包，马上跑到他指给我的位于第二大街的一家面包店，我要买我们在波士顿常吃的那种硬面包，可是在费城好像不做这种面包。然后，我要买三便士一个的面包，他们告诉我没有这种面包。由于我没有考虑到或根本就不晓得两地币值的差异，费城的物价要低得多，他店里究竟都有什么面包我也说不上，就这样我给他三个便士，随便他拿给我什么面包。结果，他一下子给了我三个大面包卷。三个便士能买这么大的面包卷，我感到非常惊讶，不过我还是接过面包卷。由于我口袋里装不下，我就腋下各夹着一个，边走边吃剩下那个。

就这样，我沿着市场街一直走到第四大街，经过后来成为我岳父大人的里德先生家门口。当时正巧我未来的妻子就站在门口，看见了我，觉得我的样子十分笨拙可笑，当时的样子的确如此。之后，我转身拐到板栗街和胡桃街一个路段，面包卷到现在还没吃完呢，又拐了个弯后，结果发现自己又回到了市场街码头，就在我乘的那条船附近。我跑到那边喝了一口河水；一个面包卷就已经填饱肚子了，一股脑地将其余两个给了与我们一同坐船到这儿的妇人和她的孩子，她们正等着开船继续远行。

填饱肚子后，我又踱到街上。这时，街上许多穿着整齐的人都朝同一个方向走去。我也加入人流，结果我被带到市场附近一个巨大的教友会会所。我在他们中间坐了下来，四下张望了一会儿，听不见什么人在讲话，由于昨天晚上划桨和几乎没怎么睡觉，我感到十分困倦，片刻后就睡着了，一直睡到他们散会。这时有一个人善意地叫醒了我。因此，这里就成了我在费城进过的或是睡过的第一幢房屋。

我又向河边走去，一路上我打量着人们的脸，遇见了一个面色和善的年轻教友会教徒，我就向他招呼，请他告诉我外地人在哪里可以找到旅店。当时，我们就在“三个海员”的牌匾附近。他说：“这里就有一个招待外地人的旅店，但是声誉不好，要是你愿意跟我来，我可以指给你一家声誉好的旅店。”说着，他就带我到坐落在水街的“弯曲旅店”，在这里我吃了一顿午餐，在吃饭时，他们为了试探我问了我一些有点狡猾的问题，因为我的年轻与我的装束好像让他们猜疑我或许是一个私逃者。午饭后，疲倦又袭来了。他们指给我一张床，我连衣服也没脱就躺下了，一直睡到晚上六点钟；他们叫我吃晚饭，当天晚上很早便上了床，一直酣睡到翌日清晨。