lly
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 won't blow him off his perch.' Then I sat down by my fire,
took my knitting, and began to meditate. I'm sure I didn't fall asleep;
but I can'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 came 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. Up went the sash, and in bounced something so big and
so bright that it dazzled and scared me.

'Don't be frightened, ma'am; it's only me,' said a hoarse voice. So I
collected my wits, rubbed my eyes, and looked at my visitor. It was the
gold eagle off the City Hall! I don't expect to be believed; but I wish
you'd been here to see, for I give you my word, it was a sight to
behold. How he ever got in at such a small window I can't tell; but
there he was, strutting majestically up and down the room, his golden
plumage rustling, and his keen eyes flashing as he walked. I really
didn't know what to do. I couldn't imagine what he came for; I had my
doubts about the propriety of offering him a chair; and he was so much
bigger than I expected that I was afraid he might fly away with me, as
the roc did with Sindbad: so I did nothing but sidle to the door, ready
to whisk out, if my strange guest appeared to be peckishly inclined. My
respectful silence seemed to suit him; for, after a turn or two, he
paused, nodded gravely, and said affably, 'Good-evening, ma'am. I
stepped over to bring you old Ben's respects, and to see how you were
getting on.'

'I'm very much obliged, sir. May I inquire who Mr. Old-Ben is? I'm
afraid I haven't the honour of his acquaintance.'

'Yes, you have; it's Ben Franklin, of City-Hall yard. You know him; and
he wished me to thank you for your interest in him.'

'Dear me! how very odd! Will you sit down, sir?'

'Never sit!