stepped on shore at the foot of Market street, where the Camden
ferry-boats now land.

No one who saw him could have guessed that he would one day be the
greatest man in the city.

He was a sorry-looking fellow.

He was dressed in his working clothes, and was very dirty from being so
long on the road and in the little boat.

His pockets were stuffed out with shirts and stockings, and all the
money that he had was not more than a dollar.

He was hungry and tired. He had not a single friend. He did not know of
anyplace where he could look for lodging.

It was Sunday morning.

He went a little way up the street, and looked around him.

A boy was coming down, carrying a basket of bread.

"My young friend," said Franklin, "where did you get that bread?"

"At the baker's," said the boy.

"And where is the baker's?"

The boy showed him the little baker shop just around the corner.