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tively feels that a canvas from the brush of Gainsborough or Kneller ought to hang. The door-frames, with their heavily moulded pediments, are exceptional. In fact all the woodwork both downstairs and up is richer in elaboration of detail than is usual in our Colonial Georgian. East of the dining-room is an ell extension from the hall and there a wide, easy staircase with a balustrade of

gracefully turned spindles ascends to the second floor.

From the moment you cross the threshold, fancy peoples the rooms with a shadowy throng of those that once dwelt there or came beneath the hospitable roof when some festive occasion drew them from the city or the neighbouring seats. There stands the old captain in a cocked hat, his armless sleeve hanging limp at his side; here a courtly personage in satin breeches, velvet coat, and powdered periwig treads a measure with a dame arrayed in flowered brocade, who nods the plumes of her turban coquettishly at her partner in the minuet; there goes the gallant Spanish Don in a resplendent uniform and close behind him follows a martial figure in whose dour comeliness can be recognised the betrayer of his country's trust. All these and many more, not forgetting the ebony-faced and liveried lackeys, discover their presence to our fleeting glimpses and only disappear entirely when we look directly at them to be assured of their reality. They all form a part of this old house, intangible and elusive, to be sure, but none the less real.

These personal memories inwoven with material fabric, like all-permeating ether, are the very soul of the charm we feel in old buildings. At Mount Pleasant, how

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ever, Arnold is more than a mere evanescent memory, so former occupants aver. They swear they have seen him glowering malignly at them and have distinctly heard his heavy tread resounding in the halls.

It is gratifying to say that Mount Pleasant has fallen into good hands. The city has entrusted the property to an automobile club, “La Moviganta Klubo,” whose

nbers and officers have spent liberally for intelligent restorations and repairs. A competent custodian is in charge and it is safe to say that this historic house will always be a cherished object of judicious care.

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IN THE NORTHERN LIBERTIES, FAIRMOUNT PARK

GALLOWAY

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RMISTON, on the verge of a deep
glen that separates it from Laurel
Hill, is a square rough-cast building
of two storeys and a hipped roof,
substantial and comfortable but with-
out much architectural pretension.

Its principal charm is its site overlooking the river far below. There are broad porches on both the land and river fronts, and in the days when its condition was properly kept up, it must have been a delightful place to pass the summer months.

Towards the end of the Colonial period it was the home of Joseph Galloway, an eminent lawyer and one of the most distinguished Loyalists. He was born at West River in Maryland, in 1731, but came to Philadelphia at an early age. In 1748 he was elected a member of the Colony in Schuylkill. While still a young man he attained great distinction in the law and was held an authority in all matters touching real estate. He was the intimate friend of Benjamin Franklin and when the latter went to England in 1764 he placed his valuable papers and letter books in Galloway's hands for safekeeping. In 1757 he was elected to the Assembly, and from 1766 to 1774 was speaker of that body, being usually elected by unanimous vote. In 1753 he married Grace Growdon, the daughter of Laurence Growdon, of Trevose.

After serving in the Congress of 1775 he withdrew from politics. Doctor Franklin then sought to induce him

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