Contrary to my expectation, I found myself under the necessity of going to Philadelphia, in order to pay the purchase money, and to have the deeds properly recorded.  I thought little of the journey, though it was above two hundred miles, because I was well acquainted with many friends, at whose houses I intended to stop.  The third night after I left the woods, I put up at Mr.——­’s, the most worthy citizen I know; he happened to lodge at my house when you was there.—­He kindly inquired after your welfare, and desired I would make a friendly mention of him to you.  The neatness of these good people is no phenomenon, yet I think this excellent family surpasses everything I know.  No sooner did I lie down to rest than I thought myself in a most odoriferous arbour, so sweet and fragrant were the sheets.  Next morning I found my host in the orchard destroying caterpillars.  I think, friend B., said I, that thee art greatly departed from the good rules of the society; thee seemeth to have quitted that happy simplicity for which it hath hitherto been so remarkable.  Thy rebuke, friend James, is a pretty heavy one; what motive canst thee have for thus accusing us?  Thy kind wife made a mistake last evening, I said; she put me on a bed of roses, instead of a common one; I am not used to such delicacies.  And is that all, friend James, that thee hast to reproach us with?—­Thee wilt not call it luxury I hope? thee canst but know that it is the produce of our garden; and friend Pope sayeth, that “to enjoy is to obey.”  This is a most learned excuse indeed, friend B., and must be valued because it is founded upon truth.  James, my wife hath done nothing more to thy bed than what is done all the year round to all the beds in the family; she sprinkles her linen with rose-water before she puts it under the press; it is her fancy, and I have nought to say.  But thee shalt not escape so, verily I will send for her; thee and she must settle the matter, whilst I proceed on my work, before the sun gets too high.—­Tom, go thou and call thy mistress Philadelphia.  What. said I, is thy wife called by that name?  I did not know that before.  I’ll tell thee, James, how it came to pass:  her grandmother was the first female child born after William Penn landed with the rest of our brethren; and in compliment to the city he intended to build, she was called after the name he intended to give it; and so there is always one of the daughters of her family known by the name of Philadelphia.  She soon came, and after a most friendly altercation, I gave up the point; breakfasted, departed, and in four days reached the city.