Frank had heard a great deal about the city, but he had never seen it, for he lived more than a hundred miles from New York, and still farther from Boston. His father and mother had made visits to both these places, several times, but it had never been convenient to them to take Frank. On their return, they always brought him many pretty presents of books or toys, and they told him about every thing they had seen there, which they thought would interest him, and he imagined the city to be the most delightful place in the world.
Frank had no brother, and only one little sister, who was a very pretty play-thing for him, but not much of a companion. There was one boy in the neighbourhood, a farmer's son, with whom Frank played a great deal.
The school was not near them, and Frank's mother had taught him every thing he knew. This was not more than other boys usually know at his age, but Frank thought he knew a great deal, for he had never seen a boy so well educated as himself. In the little village where he lived, none of the other boys were so fortunate as to have mothers, who could spare their time to instruct them, and the school was a poor one, so Frank thought himself very wise. When his mother perceived this, she invited his little friend, the farmer's son, Sam Brown, to come to her house and study with Frank. Sam was a year older than Frank, a good and intelligent boy, and he gladly accepted the invitation. Frank was soon obliged to make unusual exertion to keep up with him, but the pleasure he felt in having a companion in his studies, compensated him for his trouble.