THE NATION: The Finest Time of the Year

From the old Long Island whaling port at Sag Harbor to land's end at Washington's Cape Flattery, the U.S. was engaged, once more, in that peculiarly American rite—the celebration of autumn. To millions, it was the finest time of the year; the season which somehow best suited a country which still remembered Indians, wild turkeys, log barns and the long, westward crawling of wagon trains.

The weather was wonderful almost everywhere. Skyscraper, silo and factory stack stood sharply against October's bright blue sky. Nights held the first promissory note of frost. New England's sumac was already scarlet; and below the...

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