I had heard a bad
character of him in London from his wife and her friends, and was
not fond of having any more to do with him. I tri'd for farther
employment as a merchant's clerk; but, not readily meeting with any,
I clos'd again with Keimer. I found in his house these hands:
Hugh Meredith, a Welsh Pensilvanian, thirty years of age, bred to
country work; honest, sensible, had a great deal of solid observation,
was something of a reader, but given to drink. Stephen Potts, a young
countryman of full age, bred to the same, of uncommon natural parts,
and great wit and humor, but a little idle. These he had agreed
with at extream low wages per week, to be rais'd a shilling every
three months, as they would deserve by improving in their business;
and the expectation of these high wages, to come on hereafter,
was what he had drawn them in with. Meredith was to work at press,
Potts at book-binding, which he, by agreement, was to teach them,
though he knew neither one nor t'other. John ----, a wild Irishman,
brought up to no business, whose service, for four years, Keimer had
purchased from the captain of a ship; he, too, was to be made
a pressman. George Webb, an Oxford scholar, whose time for four
years he had likewise bought, intending him for a compositor,
of whom more presently; and David Harry, a country boy, whom he had
taken apprentice.
I soon perceiv'd that the intention of engaging me at wages so much
higher than he had been us'd to give, was, to have these raw,
cheap hands form'd thro' me; and, as soon as I had instructed them,
then they being all articled to him, he should be able to do without me.
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