that event, and a more vivid realization of it than if we read an account from the printed page.
So receptions to Lafayette, and the honors bestowed upon him in this vicinity, seem real to me for the following reasons.
My maternal grandmother, at the impressionable age of eighteen, from an excellent position on Park street, witnessed the ovation given America's great guest by the city of Boston.
She was never tired of relating the story to me, nor of repeating those lines composed by Charles Sprague for the occasion, and inscribed on an arch thrown across Washington street— Welcome, Lafayette. The fathers in glory shall sleep, That gathered with thee in the fight; But the sons will eternally keep The tablet of gratitude bright. We bow not the neck; we bend not the knee; But our hearts, Lafayette, we surrender to thee.
The account of the dinner at Dudley Hall's was told by one whose father and aunt were in the employ of the Hall family at that time (see Register, July, 1912, pag