“He must have been a good chap,” commented Tom.
“You’re going to see a statue of him as soon as you get off the train,” interposed Mrs. Morton.
“Where is it?” asked Ethel Brown.
“On top of the City Hall. It’s the first thing you see when you come out of the railroad station. In fact you’re so close to the Public Buildings, as they’re called, that I doubt if you can see the top at all until you get farther away from them.”
“The statue must be enormous if it’s up so high,” said Ethel Blue.
“I’ve been told it was thirty-seven feet high,” returned Mrs. Morton, “and that the rim of the old gentleman’s hat was so wide that a person could walk on it comfortably.”
“Wouldn’t it be fun to do our back step on the edge of his hat!” exclaimed Ethel Blue to Ethel Brown, as they looked out the cab which was taking them to the hotel, and saw the figure of the benevolent Quaker black against the sky some five hundred feet above the ground.
The hotel wherein Mrs. Morton established her flock was “in the heart of conservative Philadelphia.” Immediately after luncheon they packed themselves into a large touring car and began their historical explorations.
“If we do things according to time, we ought to go first to all of the places that have to do with William Penn,” said Helen.
“I’m afraid that might make us jump around the city a little,” said Mrs. Morton, “because if I am not mistaken, the house that William Penn gave to his daughter Letitia, is out in Fairmount Park, and the one belonging to his grandson is in the Zoo. We’ll see them before we go home, but now we had better give our attention to the things that are here in the city. To begin with we can go to the little park on whose site William Penn made his famous treaty with the Indians. It takes us somewhat out of our way, but I know Helen’s orderly mind will like to begin there.”