252 In Touch with Nature. 



between the lines : Who enters here leaves wits 

 behind. He who is sane in such a crowd is 

 scarcely human. Covetousness is epidemic. Never 

 a thought of the effect of long years of use enters 

 our minds. Every colonial acorn has grown to a 

 latter-day oak. Here the glamour of age has 

 proved the transmuter of metal : pre- Revolution- 

 ary pewter is sterling silver. And now the sale 

 begins. Perched upon a chair, from his coign of 

 vantage the sea of fools is calmly surveyed by the 

 auctioneer, and distorted truth charms the will- 

 ing victim. A long table was covered with china, 

 earthenware, and glass ; and the mantel beyond — a 

 narrow shelf quite near the ceiling — glittered with 

 a tangled maze of clean brass candlesticks, steel 

 snuffers, and plated trays. At one end dangled a 

 huge warming-pan, and on the wall near it hung a 

 bit of canvas in a gilded frame, from which the 

 portrait had as utterly faded as he whom it repre- 

 sented had vanished into thin air. It was a strange 

 place, — a room from which many a colonial citizen 

 had passed to take a stroll upon the village street ; 

 and here, in sad confusion to be sure, the dishes 

 that graced his breakfast-table. I could have lin- 



