1 66 A Pre-Columbian Dinner 



ures are concerned. It is now September, 

 and, save where the ground has been ruthlessly 

 uptorn, everywhere is a wealth of early au- 

 tumn bloom. A soothing quiet rests upon the 

 scene, bidding us to retrospeftive thought. 

 Not a bit of stone, of pottery, or of burned 

 and blackened fragment of bone but stands 

 out in the mellow sunshine as the feature of 

 a long-forgotten feast. As I dreamily gaze 

 upon the gatherings of half a day, I seem to 

 see the ancient folk that once dwelt in this 

 neglefted spot ; seem to be a guest at a pre- 

 Columbian dinner in New Jersey. 



