waited patiently to see what she was up to. Then she disappeared. As one looks over the flat bare roofs of skyscrapers it seems curious that so few of them are put to any use. Only on one of the cliffs of offices could I see any attempt at beauty. This was on the roof of the Finance Building, where there are three tiny grass plots and a little white bench.
It is possible to climb up through William Penn's left leg by a narrow ladder, dodging among beams and girders and through a trap-door, and so up to the brim of his beaver. I was keen to essay it, but Mr. Kellett discouraged me by saying a suit of overalls was necessary. I am no respecter of garments, but I did not press the point, as I feared that my friendly guide might still think I had a grenade about my person, and was yearning for immortality by blowing William's head off. So we compromised by going down to see the inside of the huge clock dials, and the ingenious compressed air devices by which the hands are moved every thirty seconds. A minute space on each clock face is an arc of about fourteen inches, so the minute hand jumps about seven inches every half minute. In a quiet room at the base of the tower are the two master clocks that control the whole mechanism. They are very beautiful to watch, and it is interesting to see that they were made in Germany, by Strasser and Rohde, Glashütte, Saxony. Exact noon is telegraphed from
