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It was not until evening that Harry had a chance to look at his prize. It was a cheap book, costing probably not over a dollar; but except his school-books, and a ragged copy of "Robinson Crusoe," it was the only book that our hero possessed. So our young hero looked forward with great joy to the pleasure of reading his new book. He did not know much about Benjamin Franklin, but had a vague idea that he was a great man. After his evening "chores" were done, he sat down by the table on which was burning a solitary tallow candle, and began to read. His mother was darning stockings, and his father had gone to the village store on an errand