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

Page 3 text:

THE ANNEAL ECETEELIE MASSACHLSETTS SCECCL Cr ACT 1T29

Page 5 text:

THE ANNUAL PCCTfCLIC In the week of April 19, 1929, a group of students in an art school in Boston felt a curious vibration of their car drums. Not all of the student body experienced this sensation, but many of those who did recognized it as the knuckles of Oppor- tunity rapping for attention. 1 hey know the sound, these few, and seized the lady by the hand. She spoke through the Eng- lish teacher, a man whom she had often employed. He proposed a pilgrimage to America ' s Holy Land, which was his designation for historic Concord and Lexington. He em- broidered the theme. He won his group to the idea, and finally, he held elaborate conferences with the officials of different bus lines and succeeded in chartering an Elevated bus for the day. He was a man of “infinite sagacity,” and besides, he had made the trip on foot many times be- fore. On the morning of the 19th, which was the day of days, the party set out two score strong in the bus, witli two trailers driven by people fortunate enough to have cars of the ir own. The day was fine, with a clearing sky and a fresh, cool wind. Their Cuide was in a merry mood, tem- pered somewhat with that touch of hu- mility which the student feels on ap- proaching the hallowed places of those great scholars of a former day. The pres- ence of his two young sons, manly fel- lows, yet with all the unrestrained ex- uberance of young Americans on a hol- iday, added to the merriment of the party. Their faces shone; their eyes sparkled; their grins from time to time divided their faces into two parts, and at all times they were known to enjoy themselves hugely. The ride from Boston to Concord is a fair one, and the time passed (piickly. Emerson ' s home, at ten o ' clock in the morning, wore the attitude of a city home at about a quarter to seven. It looked lived in. hut it had an air of not having arisen for the day. The wanderers gath- ered on the front walk and waited while the Guide made arrangements with the gentleman at the door. At length, the door, which had been drawn back cau- tiously, was hospitably opened wide and the pilgrims crowded in. Without a glance at the semi-dark hall with its wide stair- case, they passed into Mr. Emerson ' s Pilgrimage study where they stood tightly jammed together staring at whatever met their eyes. There was a distinct musty smell in the air, as if the house had not been opened since Mr. Emerson passed through the broad front doorway for the last time. From somewhere near the door came the voice of Mr. Hall, the Superintendent of Schools, who had come over especially to help extend the hospitality of Concord. This sound was broken in turn by the voice of Miss Legate, who live d there at the time and kept the house in its orig- inal state, even to the position of the fur- niture. The pilgrims looked about them. They saw the whale oil lamp (which had since been electrified). They saw vari- ous relics vhich Mr. Emerson had brought from Egypt. They saw a whole wall solid with books from floor to ceil- ing. They crowded closer and scanned the titles, and were elated when they found familiar ones, and appalled at the number which were not familiar. Whenever an authoritative voice dominated the buzz of conversation, all heads jerked smartly in that direction. The listened with their ears. They looked with their eyes, noting the many cpiaint family pictures on the walls and the rather crowded arrangement of comfortable furniture. They sniffed the musty air and presently slipped on into the next room, all rooms large, high, and square. Here was the parlor room, the room in which Mr. Emerson entertained and in which all the memorable discussions were held. Here was a more agreeable ar- rangement of furniture, a long .sofa, a piano of a later date, and a sulky fire on the hearth. The pilgrims passed on through the end of the hall on the way to the dining room. Several were cap- tivated by the charms of an ancient rock- ing horse with miraculously preserved mane and tail. They exclaimed over it with delight as they had not done over Mr. Emerson ' s books, perhaps from a sense of awe. (Students are not in awe of a rock- ing horse, even if they have never seen it before.) Tn the dining room they saw an interest- ing table composed of two tables placed closely together, these both from the Emerson side of the family, while the oth- er pieces had been brought from Plymouth by Mrs. Emerson. All this they learned from Miss Legate, who was ever a gra- cious hostess. They stood a bit longer be- fore a photograph of Mr. Carlyle, a rather striking camera study which had been con- sidered daring and unusual when it was made. Presently the visit was over and they were outside, swarming over the grass, turning to view the house, rushing up and down with cameras, squinting into the box and up at the sun. Here and there, people with pencils and sketch pads, sought to reflect a bit of history, literattire, of architecture and scenery, through their own personalities. The boys, the two young sons, had long since escaped the confines of the house whose wall treasures were yet too pon- derous for their eager minds. Some day they would return with their father to ex- perience that thrill which he knew on treading this hallowed ground. This day they knew only the countryside which they had glimpsed on going in. They were discovered by other merry souls who also heard the pipes of Pan, down at the edge of the brook in a field behind the Emersoti barn, helping a lone and patient angler to fish. All had deserted the spot, even the angler, before the scattered pilgrims could be assembled for their marching orders. From there on, the pilgrims were to tramp about the lanes and highways of Concord on foot, with the exception of the occupants of the two trailers. The bus was dismissed till the afternexjn. The band filed on, two and four abreast, the front ranks constantly shifting as eager members inadvertently tried to gain a autage point beside, or within hearing distance of, the Guide. The official camera- man of the party made .strides ahead, set up his camera in the walk and snapped the on-coming horde. The destination was the Alcott house. Arrival found it closed, with the curtains tightly drawn. The pil- grims, swept forward, surrounding the house, peering into the few dark windows which had been left uncovered, and calling back and forth to their friends. Mur- murs of “Amy, Beth, and Jo,” were heard. The house made little response to their advances. It wore the dormant resigna- tion of one whose thoughts look back- ward. The group swarmed up the grassy 3