"Now, boys," cried Ben, "let's give three cheers and go home to bed.
To-morrow we may catch fish at our ease."

"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" shouted his comrades.

Then they all went home in such an ecstasy of delight that they could
hardly get a wink of sleep.

The story was not yet finished; but George's impatience caused him to
interrupt it.

"How I wish that I could have helped to build that wharf!" exclaimed he.
"It must have been glorious fun. Ben Franklin forever, say I."

"It was a very pretty piece of work," said Mr. Temple. "But wait till
you hear the end of the story."

"Father," inquired Edward, "whereabouts in Boston was the mill-pond on
which Ben built his wharf?"

"I do not exactly know," answered Mr. Temple; "but I suppose it to have
been on the northern verge of the town, in the vicinity of what are now
called Merrimack and Charlestown Streets. That thronged portion of the
city was once a marsh. Some of it, in fact, was covered with water."



CHAPTER VIII.

As the children had no more questions to ask, Mr. Temple proceeded to