days, but doubtless containing much good soldierly material.

At their head stood their senior officer, Captain Wadsworth, the same bold patriot who had so signally defeated a royal governor six years before. He was now to add to his fame by as signally defeating another royal governor.

When the New York potentate, accompanied by the governor and a number of the assemblymen, and by the members of his staff, reached the place, they found the valiant captain walking up and down before his men, busily engaged in putting them through their exercises.

Governor Fletcher stepped forward importantly, produced his commission and instructions, and ordered them to be read to the assembled troops. The person to whom he handed them unfolded the commission, advanced to the front of the line, and prepared to read. He did not know with whom he had to deal. "Beat the drums !" cried Captain Wadsworth, in a stentorian voice.

Instantly there broke out a roar that utterly drowned the voice of the reader.

"Silence!" exclaimed Fletcher, angrily advancing. The drums ceased their rattling uproar. Silence once more prevailed. The reader began again.

"Drum! drum, I say!" thundered Wadsworth. Again such an uproar filled the air as only drumheads beaten by vigorous arms can make.

"Silence! silence!" cried Fletcher, furiously. The drums ceased.

"Drum ! drum, I say !" roared Wadsworth. Then,

turning to the governor, and handling his sword significantly, he continued, in resolute tones, "If I am interrupted again I will make the sun shine through you in a minute.”

This fierce threat ended the business. Governor Fletcher had no fancy for being riddled by this truculent captain of militia. King William's commission doubtless had its weight, but the king was three thousand miles away across the seas, and Captain Wadsworth and his train-bands were un pleasantly near. Governor Fletcher deemed it unwise to try too strongly the fiery temper of the Hartford militiaman; he and his suite returned hastily to New York, and that was the last that was heard of a royal commander for the militia of Connecticut.

HOW FRANKLIN CAME TO
PHILADELPHIA.

TO-DAY we may make our way from New York to Philadelphia in a two-hour "Flyer," with palace-car accommodations. To-morrow, perhaps, the journey will be made in ninety minutes. Such, at least, is the nearly-realized dream of railroad-men. A century and a half ago this journey took considerably more time, and was made with much less comfort. There is on record an interesting narrative of how the trip was made in 1723, which is worth giving as a contrast to present conditions.

The traveller was no less notable a personage than Benjamin Franklin, who, much to the after-advantage of the Quaker City, had run away from too severe an apprenticeship in Boston, failed to obtain employment in New York, and learned that work might be had in Philadelphia. The story of how he came thither cannot be told better than in his own homely language, so we will suffer him to speak for himself.

"Philadelphia was one hundred miles farther; I set out, however, in a boat for Amboy, leaving my chest and things to follow me round by sea. In crossing the bay, we met with a squall that tore our

rotten sail to pieces, prevented our getting into the Kill, and drove us upon Long Island. In our way a drunken Dutchman, who was a passenger too, fell overboard; when he was sinking, I reached through the water to his shock pate and drew him up, so that we got him in again. His ducking sobered him a little, and he went to sleep, taking first out of his pocket a book, which he desired I would. dry for him."

The book proved to be the "Pilgrim's Progress," in Dutch, well printed, and with copper-plate illustrations, a fact which greatly interested the bookloving traveller.

"On approaching the island, we found it was a place where there could be no landing, there being a great surge on the stony beach. So we dropped anchor, and swung out our cable towards the shore. Some people came down to the shore, and hallooed to us, as we did to them; but the wind was so high, and the surge so loud, that we could not understand each other. There were some small boats near the shore, and we made signs, and called to them to fetch us; but they either did not comprehend us, or it was impracticable, so they went off.

"Night approaching, we had no remedy but to have patience till the wind abated, and in the mean time the boatman and myself concluded to sleep, if we could; and so we crowded into the hatches, where we joined the Dutchman, who was still wet, and the spray, breaking over the head of our boat, leaked through to us, so that we were soon almost as wet as he. In this manner we lay all night, with very

little rest; but the wind abating the next day, we made a shift to reach Amboy before night, having been thirty hours on the water, without victuals, or any drink but a bottle of filthy rum, the water we sailed on being salt."

The story seems hard to credit. The travellers had already spent fifteen times the period it now takes to make the complete journey, and were but fairly started; while they had experienced almost as much hardship as though they were wrecked mariners, cast upon a desolate coast. The remainder of the journey was no less wearisome. The traveller thus continues his narrative:

"In the evening I found myself very feverish, and went to bed; but having read somewhere that cold water drunk plentifully was good for a fever, I followed the prescription, and sweat plentifully most of the night. My fever left me, and in the morning, crossing the ferry, I proceeded on my journey on foot, having fifty miles to go to Burlington, where I was told I should find boats that would carry me the rest of the way to Philadelphia.

"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 stayed 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. However, I proceeded next day, and in the evening got to an inn, within eight or ten miles of Burlington, kept by one Dr. Brown.