A Benjamin Franklin Reader by Walter Isaacson

sum; and one of the pieces of the old looking-glass, squared and framed, supplies the place of the great one, which I have conveyed into a closet, where it may possibly remain some years. In short, the face of things is quite changed; and I am mightily pleased when I look at my hour-glass, what an ornament it is to the room. I have paid my debts, and find money in my pocket. I expect my dame home next Friday, and as your paper is taken in at the house where she is, I hope the reading of this will prepare her mind for the above surprising revolutions. If she can conform to this new scheme of living, we shall be the happiest couple perhaps in the province, and, by the blessing of god, may soon be in thriving circumstances. I have reserved the great glass, because I know her heart is set upon it. I will allow her when she comes in, to be taken suddenly ill with the headache, the stomach-ache, fainting-fits, or whatever other disorder she may think more proper; and she may retire to bed as soon as she pleases: but if I do not find her in perfect health both of body and mind the next morning, away goes the aforesaid great glass, with several other trinkets I have no occasion for, to the vendue that very day. Which is the irrevocable resolution of, Sir, Her loving husband, and Your very humble servant,
    Anthony Afterwit
    Postscript, You know we can return to our former way of living, when we please, if Dad will be at the expense of it.

Celia Single Responds
    Less sexist than most men of his day, Franklin also aimed his barbs at men. Afterwit’s letter was answered two weeks later by one from Celia Single. With the delightful gossipy voice of Franklin’s other female characters, such as Silence Dogood, Single recounts a visit to a friend whose husband is trying to replicate Afterwit’s approach. A raucous argument ensues.
    T HE P ENNSYLVANIA G AZETTE , J ULY 24, 1732
    My Correspondent Mrs. Celia, must excuse my omitting those circumstances of her letter, which point at people too plainly; and content herself that I insert the rest as follows.
    Mr. Gazetteer,
    I must needs tell you, that some of the things you print do more harm than good; particularly I think so of my neighbor the tradesman’s letter in one of your late papers, which has broken the peace of several families, by causing difference between men and their wives: I shall give you here one instance, of which I was an eye and ear witness.
    Happening last Wednesday morning to be in at Mrs. C———ss ’s, when her husband returned from market, among other things which he had bought, he showed her some balls of thread. My dear, says he, I like mightily those stockings which I yesterday saw neighbor Afterwit knitting for her husband, of thread of her own spinning: I should be glad to have some such stockings my self: I understand that your maid Mary is a very good knitter, and seeing this thread in market, I have bought it, that the girl may make a pair or two for me. Mrs. Careless was just then at the glass, dressing her head; and turning about with the pins in her mouth, lord, child, says she, are you crazy? What time has Mary to knit? Who must do the work, I wonder, if you set her to knitting? Perhaps, my dear, says he, you have a mind to knit ’em yourself; I remember, when I courted you, I once heard you say you had learned to knit of your mother. I knit stockings for you, says she, not I truly; there are poor women enough in town, that can knit; if you please you may employ them. Well, but my dear, says he, you know a penny saved is a penny got, a pin a day is a groat a year, every little makes a nickel, and there is neither sin nor shame in knitting a pair of stockings; why should you express such a mighty aversion to it? As to poor women, you know we are not people of quality, we have no income to maintain us, but what arises from my labor and industry; methinks you should not be at all displeased, if you have an opportunity to get something as well as my