When Weston celebrated its 200th anniversary in 1913 I was nine and a half years old. This was a great event in the annals of   the town, but my memories are principally of a few things that  seem fairly unimportant in retrospect. There was an orator with    an emotional voice who spoke from the lawn in front of the Unitarian Church; a great parade with a brass band and elaborate floats, of which I remember very little; an exhibition of Weston antiques at the Jones house, which included our family high      chair; and a pageant in a natural amphitheatre near Winsor's     Pond in which I played a minor role. The pageant depicted    scenes from Weston history, documented and legendary, and the part I remember best was seeing the Norsemen row across the pond in a great barge and land on the near shore. They wore   black costumes and carried shields and my father was one of   them. When the pageant was over I went to Cutting's Store, hot and tired, and quenched my thirst with tonic.
   Uncle Joe Smith, as we called him, wrote and produced the

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