CHAPTER 



TWELFTH 



A PRE-COLUMBIAN 

 DINNER 



A PONDEROUS geologist, with weighty 

 tread and weightier manner, brought 

 his foot down upon the unoffending sod and 

 declared, These meadows are sinking at a 

 rapid rate ; something over two feet a cen- 

 tury." We all knew it, but Sir Oracle had 

 spoken, and we little dogs did not dare to bark. 



Not long after I returned alone to these ill- 

 fated meadows and began a leisurely, all-day 

 ramble. They were very beautiful. There 

 was a wealth of purple and of white boneset 

 and iron-weed of royal dye. Sunflower and 

 primrose gilded the hidden brooks, and every 

 knoll was banked with rose-pink centaury. 

 Nor was this all. Feathery reeds towered 

 above the marsh, and every pond was em- 

 purpled with pontederia and starred with 



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