(with spirit).
There you read me wrong, Master Franklin. I have supped with printers
before this.

FRANKLIN.
Then 'twas the printer's loaf you mocked this morning, Mistress
Deborah; and not the printer. Yet in truth, why should eating in the
street displease you, since 'twas a matter of necessity. Ere fancy you
consult, consult your purse, and my purse was not over full. But--
diligence is the mother of luck, and heaven gives all things to
industry.
[Footnote: From "Poor Richard's Almanac."]

DEBORAH
(with a toss).
You speak as if you and Industry were boon companions.

FRANKLIN.
And what better companion could I have? Heaven helps them that help
themselves.

DEBORAH
(witheringly).
'Tis a fine thing to have high hopes, I doubt not.

FRANKLIN
(blithely).
Oh, I have more than hopes, Mistress Deborah; for he that lives upon
hope will die fasting. To apply one's self right heartily is to do more
than hope. Sloth makes all things difficult; but industry all things