From this room, extending to the rear of the building, is a short hallway, on either side of which is a room so small that we wonder what could have been their function in the Penn household. Quaint and cozy as is the little mansion, we can scarce believe it to have been the home of one who owned our whole great State of Pennsylvania. In the year 1684, after a stay of twenty-one months, Penn was forced to return to England to protect his proprietary interests, as they were at that time threatened by the plans of Lord Baltimore. In his absence, the proprietorship fell upon his cousin, Markham, the Lieutenant-Governor, who then took up his abode in the Letitia House. Later, according to the wish of Penn, who desired that his house be devoted to public service, it became the State House. It is hard to imagine such a dignified body as was undoubtedly the provincial council meeting in the tiny brick cottage. What a contrast it makes with Independence Hall, or the great capitol now at Harrisburg! In after years, when other houses had grown up on all sides, the little cottage fell into obscurity. At one time, even, it was thrown open as a public inn, and the little room which at one time held the Penn family circle now became the haunt of the wayfarer and the chronic idler. But, recently, folks of the great State have come to think more of the little house and to recognize gratefully the part which it played in their history. They have lifted it from its late dingy surroundings and, as if to put before it the city’s best, have placed it on the west bank of the Schuylkill, overlooking Fairmount Park. Here, far away from the city’s centre, with its face toward the broad, green valley of the river, the little mansion rests patiently, as if waiting until the city shall again closely encircle it in its westward growth. As would have been the wish of the great Quaker, the door is still left hospitably open, and citizen and stranger alike may freely enter the house of him who founded their State. Here, daily, come many pilgrims. The Schuylkill, too, winding placidly down from its hills, loiters gently in its course through the picturesque valley, as if to catch a momentary glimpse of the quaint old house. [Illustration] WITH WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE By W. Bert Foster CHAPTER XVI From Germantown to Valley Forge SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS