The Algonquin Hotel unveiled a new “round table” yesterday, marking the completion of an $8 million building renovation. On hand to celebrate were scions of Robert Benchley and F.P.A. Adams, two among the circle of talented humorists who rocketed to fame from this Midtown haunt. The new, dark wooden table – which happens to be rectangular – overlooks 44th Street.

Actor Nat Benchley, grandson of Vanity Fair editor Robert Benchley, said the collection of talents who assembled at the original table between 1919 and roughly 1929, were tight-knit but incongruous. They were impossible people, but collectively, “impossible to ignore,” he said of the group that included Edna Ferber, Alexander Woollcott, and Heywood Broun. Mr. Benchley spoke of an instance when Noel Coward told Edna Ferber she looked almost like a man in her suit. “So do you,” Ferber shot back. “Noel, so do you.”

Mr. Benchley also recalled the reason Groucho Marx declined to join them, saying: “The admission fee is a viper’s tongue and a half-concealed stiletto.”

A bell captain for 43 years, Mike Lyons, told the Sun that when Harpo Marx stayed at the hotel, a big crate would arrive two weeks prior with his harp in it.

Anthony and Stephen Adams, who are son and grandson of Algonquin Round Table denizen F.P.A. Adams, were also on hand. Asked if he was a writer, Stephen – an attorney in Rhode Island – responded, “If you count writing briefs.”

A “caravan of captivating characters” once gathered there, said Algonquin General Manager Anthony Melchiorri. The new table is dedicated, he said, to “writers, wits, and wags of the future.”

With the first and second hotel floors equipped with Wi-Fi Internet access, writers can pull up their laptop and enjoy the ambience. Imagine a droll quip of Dorothy Parker’s relayed by instant messaging.

“The Algonquin is going back to its roots,” said Dorothy Parker Society president Kevin Fitzpatrick, who offered remarks on the hotel’s literary history. The celebration continues for Mr. Fitzpatrick. He will host the 6th annual Parkerfest at the beginning of October including a “speakeasy night jazz cruise” and lunch at the Algonquin Round Table.

Over lunch, New York University Professor Barry Goldsmith, who teaches comedy, told the Sun the principal reason the round-table crowd broke up was that the wits were drawn to Hollywood when talking pictures began to flourish.