I have often wondered what the various statues standing about the city think of all day , and what criticisms they would make upon us and our doings , if they could speak . I frequently stop and stare at them , wondering if they do n't feel lonely ; if they would n't be glad of a nod as we go by ; and I always long to offer my umbrella to shield their uncovered heads on a rainy day , especially to good Ben Franklin , when the snow lies white on his benevolent forehead . I was always fond of this old gentleman ; and one of my favourite stories when a little girl , was that of his early life , and the time when he was so poor he walked about Philadelphia with a roll of bread under each arm , eating a third as he went . I never pass without giving him a respectful look , and wishing he could know how grateful I am for all he had done in the printing line ; for , without types and presses , where would the books be ? Well , I never imagined that he understood why the tall woman in the big bonnet stared at him ; but he did , and he liked it , and managed to let me know it in a very curious manner , as you shall hear . As I look out , the first thing I see is the great gilt eagle on the City-Hall dome . There he sits , with open wings , all day long , looking down on the people , who must appear like ants scampering busily to and fro about an ant-hill . The sun shines on him splendidly in the morning ; the gay flag waves and rustles in the wind above him sometimes ; and the moonlight turns him to silver when she comes glittering up the sky . When it rains he never shakes his feathers ; snow beats on him without disturbing his stately repose ; and he never puts his head under his wing at night , but keeps guard in darkness as in day , like a faithful sentinel . I like the big , lonely bird , call him my particular fowl , and often wish he 'd turn his head and speak to me . One night he did actually do it , or seemed to ; for I 've never been able to decide whether I dreamed what I 'm going to tell you , or whether it really happened . It was a stormy night ! and , as I drew down my curtain , I said to myself , after peering through the driving snow to catch a glimpse of my neighbour , ` Poor Goldy ! he 'll have a rough time of it . I hope this northeaster wo n't blow him off his perch . ' Then I sat down by my fire , took my knitting , and began to meditate . I 'm sure I did n't fall asleep ; but I ca n't prove it , so we 'll say no more about it . All at once there came a tap at my door , as I thought ; and I said ` Come in , ' just as Mr. Poe did when that unpleasant raven paid him a call . No one came , so I went to see who it was . Not a sign of a human soul in the long hall , only little Jessie , the poodle , asleep on her mat .
Down I sat ; but in a minute the tap XXXXX again ; this time so loud that I knew it was at the window , and went to open it , thinking that one of my doves wanted to come in perhaps .
've came seemed sits stared walked went wish wondered wondering