eight of the principal officers, in white uniforms trimmed with gold
lace, have taken up their quarters at the sign of the William Pitt. Who
is this young and handsome officer now entering the door of the tavern?
It is no less a personage than the Marquis Lafayette, who has come all
the way from Providence to visit the French gentlemen boarding there.
What a gallant-looking cavalier he is, with his quick eyes and coal
black hair! Forty years later he visited the spot again; his locks were
gray and his step was feeble, but his heart held its young love for
Liberty.

Who is this finely dressed traveler alighting from his coach-and-four,
attended by servants in livery? Do you know that sounding name, written
in big valorous letters on the Declaration of Independence--written as
if by the hand of a giant? Can you not see it now? JOHN HANCOCK. This is
he.

Three young men, with their valet, are standing on the doorstep of the
William Pitt, bowing politely, and inquiring in the most courteous terms
in the world if they can be accommodated. It is the time of the French
Revolution, and these are three sons of the Duke of Orleans--Louis
Philippe and his two brothers. Louis Philippe never forgot his visit
to Rivermouth. Years afterwards, when he was seated on the throne of
France, he asked an American lady, who chanced to be at his court, if
the pleasant old mansion were still standing.

But a greater and a better man than the king of the French has honored
this roof. Here, in 1789, came George Washington, the President of
the United States, to pay his final complimentary visit to the State
dignitaries. The wainscoted chamber where he slept, and the dining-hall
where he entertained his guests, have a certain dignity and sanctity