Now that the excitement of the '86 class elections has passed off, we would breath a gentle suggestion into the ears of the newly born photographic committee. Last year the graduating class of Smith College decided to have a composite photograph of the class taken, - and taken it was. Perhaps some of our readers may not understand what a composite photograph is, - we would not insinuate that the able committee do not, - so a few words of explanation may not be out of order. The Scientific American has lately been publishing some articles on this interesting subject, which run somewhat as follows: - "To obtain the average photograph of a certain class, or kind of men is a easy process. If twenty or more men are to be photographed, they must be taken in the same position on one negative, giving about a second's exposure to each man; thus the traits which are common to all become more intensified on the negative while merely individual characteristics do not appear at all. Thus the picture of the average man is produced, and is very interesting to look upon. If men cannot be taken at the same time, their photographs can be treated in the same way, provided they are all taken in the same position." The young ladies of the class of '85 at Smith followed this truly original plan and obtained a very gratifying result. The "coiffure" of the maiden thus evolved was such a delicious blending of wavy bangs, "Langtry twists," "French knots," "waterfalls" and curls that it has been adopted by a large majority as the college mode, and bids fair to become the rage all over the country. The "average girl" herself bore a striking resemblance to current likenesses of Minerva, though the mouth indicated a decided penchant for caramels and ice cream, and there was a suspicious droop of one eyelid, which showed the sensitiveness of the organ in question when exposed to the light. But can any one imagine Minerva with a decidedly marked pair of eyeglasses?
Now, does not this open a great field to the photographic committee for exploration? Imagine the composite photographs of the four classes! '86 with well developed moustaches, large foreheads, and eyes beaming with the satisfaction of three year's work well done; '87 with faces indicating a tremendous amount of physical strength and the evident ability to eat four meals a day; '88 with a painful regard to dress, lurking signs of the coming moustache, and a general air of owning the college, which perhaps they come rightly by; and lastly '89, - but we draw the veil over the picture of childlike innocence and confidence which '89 would present! Not only would the four classes furnish a field for the scientists, but what realms of delight could be opened by the production of the photographs of the average Annex girl! What curiosity by that of the representative janitor or goody! And what profound interest by that of the Overseer, thus evolved! We see long vistas of the delight this will bring upon the college. By all means let the photographic committee of '86 take the first step in this direction by having all the class photographs taken in one position, so that the college may be gratified by having a composite photograph of one of the finest classes which has ever entered Harvard.
Read more in Opinion
GAIN OF FIFTY-NINE.