Massachusetts College of Art and Design - Palette and Pen Yearbook (Boston, MA)

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The Center of Vision “You extricate self in here?” request young Eve. I ruminate reflectingly but see row of heads hanging with no life. I receive more confirmation of wild sus- picion. I retreat upward followed by guide. I enter other room and again retreat backward in haste. Guide puzzled. “This bluebeard room, too ?” I demand with sheet-like facial coloring. Sweet face lady come forth assuringly. “You come to gaze on block head class?” she request to know with head on one side smilingly. I almost enter but feel for neck and wildly retire. When green smock catch up with me I have almost reached door of loud noise room. I get glimpse of within and allow self to be led away. I have one idea now within dome, and that exit from this crazy place ; but maiden lose my sense of direction for me and I follow after. We appear in beautifully decorated room with pictures all over. Eyeglassed young man step up with clasped hands. “What I do for you,” he request politely expressing talk somewhat thru nose. “We peek in school over,” fling back my interloper. “This way, please,” say young fellow. He pick up picture. “This one perfect stunner, this one corking in exquisite finish.” I nod un- knowingly what is meant. “This one I throw up on larger paper.” I receive shock as we send steps toward outside. “That harsh treatment.” I apologize blushingly to maiden. She look blank. We stop at other door and peer thru glass. “We m ust refuse to enter,” say Green One in stage whisper. “There is lec- ture by George in there.” I peek again twice. Artistic looking man talk earnestly with hands, face and self besides lips. I remember others in building do likewise and not amazed. Many persons of youth in Quaker like smocks and others sit hj-pnotically gazing. Peacock sit on box also with stony stare and much stuffed. “Do that man lure many poor stude every year like that ?” I make talk piti- fully. “Remarkably for sure,” she parley with no pity in least. “Honorable George frown on entries after lecture get under going,” she explain sorrowfully. “Alore good,” I snigger. “I desire not to cause crossness of no inmate in this asylum.” I report grandly and leave for door. As we direct shoes toward stairs I glance into room where pretty girl talks interestingly with others. “That is teacher of how to decorate exteriorly,” explain girl guide. “She beside ?” I mourn with cracked heart. “Impossible she affected also !” I go upstairs with heart left behind. We listen at door which is bolted. “Only way to get it, isn’t it ?” say manly bass voice with hesitation now and then. 19

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The Final Touch A VISIT TO NORMAL ART To Most Right Honorable Maker of Edition: — I have not dare seize fountain pencil to exude unusual addle of brain in this head up to this hour. Now I feel not so sinking in interior of person, so may ex- purgate anecdote seen in your honorable school. I still much frighten in stomach at remembration of experiments. I enter school in front, then sideways, after that back up and find me in room called by blue smoked maiden as exterior office. I gaze with face wide apart at beautifical labors of art on all walls, while maiden get pointer — no. Director were what she say as I think now. He approach — I bow lowly. He grin greatly under moustache and say, “What I do for you, laddie?” “I reticently beg to have permit to see over honorable natural Artist School,” I requisition. “Very good,” he retaliate, “I get green smock guide, if I may use term, for you.” “That term not apply here,” I parley, askingly, but he have left to unearth guide. Thus I start to peer thru school with other young maiden, now green. On right I see many student bending burdensomely over tall tables that run down hill. I debate hesitating. “That mechanical drafting teacher,” she say as tall worried looked man weave fro and to beside inmates pointing. Maiden she open door inwards. I advance quakingly and receive introducement. I bow solicitously. He swallow. “Well — well ! well — well ! — what’s this ?” he cogitate intermittently. I refuse answer because of paralytic tonque and exit backwardly. “His smile jolly, but desire hard labor,” say green maiden. I refuse speech absently. Next we go to darksome hall with boat in middle. Many green son and daughter on outskirts of boat looking thru small window on above said boat. I not have decision concerning craziness. Then I see young man with tall fore- head. He fold hands in front and grin sweetly. Too much sweet. I look again at scener} ' outside about me, and suspicion lodge within skull. Dark haired man with glasses propell self from inward door of dark hall. I seize maiden and direct gaze. “That Mr. Wilder,” she extricate. I disbelieve. “He look like kind heart for big man. Other ones here more wilder !” I assert convincingly. We now pass dusty old work shop. Two work people there. One look shyly up outward from above glasses while other big man talk convincingly by making balls with hands and press air with thumb. 18

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The Final Touch “Getting handsomer not?” I long to go within to see accumulation of handsomeness. We continue to lend ears. “Cut out masses,” I hear said. “Her head and feet are entirely off. You must separate bone from flesh on long line. Cut off whole arm and push nose forward. Improved, isn’t it?” “Ancestral shadows,” roar I in whisper, “is this torture chamber?” “Life Room,” she gulp sardonically. I gallop madly to door six feet off down hall and am about to precipitate self thru when female’s voice floats forth in torrent. “Block it in ! Sharpen charcoal to wavering knife edge and cut out masses. Take that head off and start over again on other side. Block it out!” “If she teach horrors like that,” I expectorate with spine freeze up and down in turns. “How she come forth yet alive?” I listen exhuberantly for answer with eyes popped. Green one laugh. “Inmates too paralytic with fear.” She shudder convincingly. We enter big hall, I still glancing over backwards at murmurs. Man in front lectures with hands, face and self, as usual, to mob of three victims. Pieces of board in front have crazy color and crazy shape on. I shake head knowingly. “Come Sunnymong?” request man waving hands near chest? I advance, but advise that not my appelation. He take off small windows from bridge of nose and scratch head. Returns glass windows to face and looks at crazy piece of board. “Your gesture are wooden and your face a horror !” he hiss with chin pro- truding. I look in wrath at him. “It best face I got,” I vituperate proudly and stalk forth from room. We now meet sweet lady with grey hair. “That most unfortunate,” she soothe nicely. I feel better for just to see her and think place not perhaps so crazy as for- merly. Then other right honorable genial lady approaches, smiling at corner of mouth and eyes and wflth brisk step. I wish to tell her my suspicion trouble to once but feel retiring and cease. “She Whittier,” say Green One. “I think she look it,” I conciliate believingly. We stand on landing and thru door I see blue smocks around table eating and talking to lady. “They feed here?” I say askingly. “True,” reinform interpolater. “That is tea for Miss Cleaves, lecturer on superprevention.” I again feel school not quite right ’cause Japanese tea never dark red. W ' e journey again down dark hall by torture rooms and up metal stairs. Enter what I grasp for junk shop. Many ladies petticoat on wall behind red 20