An "Indian Summer" Dream 



and harvested the corn, while the 

 braves were hunting game for winter 

 stores, that the ghosts of the vanished 

 races always come when the evening 

 shadows fall. It is in the midst of 

 such environment that the mysterious, 

 elusive shapes appear. The rustling 

 of the oak leaves and the drying corn 

 blades, as the night breeze passes, will 

 always start them from their silent 

 places after there has been a heavy 

 frost. Personally, I will testify that I 

 never saw an Indian until the nuts 

 were falling in the woods, and the tips 

 of the white and red and yellow ears 

 protruded from the husks; so 1 have 

 come to understand that the shadowy 

 people of the Indian Summer nights 

 are real children of the harvest, and 

 that in some way — known only to old 

 Mother Earth herself, and to the golden 

 sun, the moon and stars, the lightnings 

 and the frosts — these spirits are re- 

 leased from bondage only when a 

 certain cycle is complete. Hence I 



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