Ben and Me: Chapters 6–9

Ben never thereafter mentioned my little adventure in printing, so I tried to be somewhat more lenient about his maxims.

Ben derived great amusement from rubbing a tube and touching it to the tip of my tail.

Thereupon a terrible shock would run through my body, every hair and whisker would stand on end and a convulsive contraction of all my muscles would throw me several inches in the air.

Nothing I could say, though, served to dampen Ben’s enthusiasm.

After he had played with the new apparatus for a few weeks and had it working well, Ben decided to give an exhibition of his achievements in this field.

Determined that no errors should mar this performance, since it meant so much to Ben, I carefully went over each wire and piece of apparatus, comparing them with his diagrams and descriptions.

There were so many of these errors to rectify that I was kept quite busy all afternoon.

“And now, my friends,” said Ben proudly, “when I turn this knob you shall see, if my calculations are correct, a manifestation of electrical force never before witnessed on this continent.”

The Fire Chief, gallantly advancing to their aid, inadvertently touched one of the wires with his silver trumpet.

The Fire Chief, gallantly advancing to their aid, inadvertently touched one of the wires with his silver trumpet.

The Governor was stiff and white in his chair, his Lady moaned faintly under her wig, the Fire Chief stared dazedly at his tarnished trumpet, and the audience was in an uproar.

“SUCCEED! Why, Amos, don’t you realize that I have just made the most successful, the most momentous experiment of the century? I have discovered the effects produced by applying strong electric shocks to human beings.”

I observed that he was developing an unseemly interest in lightning.

At first I was alarmed, but as each succeeding crash brought an echoing moan and a violent trembling of the feet I realized that all that had befallen him was a severe case of fright.

“And now, Dr. Franklin,” I jeered as he sheepishly rose from the bed, “would you lend a bit of your calm, scientific study to getting me out of this jar? And by the way, what did you observe as to the true nature of lightning?”

When, some time later, a scientific writer called them “Lightning Rods,” naming Ben as their inventor, he refused to take the credit. This startling display of modesty surprised many people—but not me.

After the disastrous lightning-rod experiment Ben was quite subdued for some days and never even mentioned electricity.

This question of the nature of lightning so preyed upon his mind that he was finally driven to an act of deceit that caused the first and only rift in our long friendship.

I feel sure that brooding on this subject must have seriously affected his mind, for this is the only way in which I can excuse his treacherous conduct.

That Deceit could raise its ugly head in such idyllic surroundings and bring to an end these innocent diversions seems particularly painful.

One hot July afternoon I had ridden aloft and, lulled by the gentle motion and the sun’s warmth, had indulged in a long nap.

I at once realized from the black and threatening clouds that a sudden thunderstorm was rapidly approaching, its preliminary gusts already tossing the kite wildly about.

I recalled his haste to launch the kite and his incessant talk while doing so, all designed to hide the fact that he had removed the car.

Blue sparks crackled from my whiskers, every hair stood on end and my frame was convulsed by the never-ending shocks.

Even had rage not rendered me speechless I should never have given him the satisfaction of an answer.

As you doubtless know, relations between these American Colonies and our Mother Country, England, have become very badly strained. So much so that I have been chosen to go to England and lay our case before the King and Parliament: to attempt to make clear to them the justice of our grievances, to avoid the dangers of rebellion and possibly of war.

“Without you, Amos, I should be lost. Your advice and your wonderful facility for gathering information are more than ever necessary to me...."

Suddenly I noted a long line of ship-rats filing ashore, laden with their belongings.

“Down here all day yesterday he was, putting them up. Conwinced the Capting they’d protect the ship from lightning. I don’t hold with no such newfangled notions, I don’t. I’m through.”

Scarce had they arrived before Red began preaching Revolution to the mice around the Inn stables. He soon had them organized and led them on several forays which caused the innkeeper considerable trouble with his guests.

In spite of his radical tendencies I could not help liking this young firebrand.

We became fast friends, and I introduced him to many prominent Philadelphia mice of my acquaintance, who, though somewhat shocked at the violence of his theories, all admired his eloquence and capacity for leadership.

This I did after his committee had adjourned at a late hour, having accomplished nothing.

Red, of course, was in a fury and orated for hours about this theft of his labors, but we all thought it a rather good joke on him.

He managed to burn most of his fingers, but when he singed my tail severely with a firecracker I finally rebelled, threatening to reveal who had really written this Declaration.