Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

lunch at the Garrett Club to meet members of The Council, which was a pleasant affair, even if Bertha & I are not used to social ways. We had, for instance, to be told to get into the receiving line, (which was composed of Dr & Mrs. Caper, Sir Angus and Lady Fletcher & we two)—An amusing incident. In my zeal to be cordial, I shook hands with a lady rather too enthusiastically. “Ouch” she exclaimed “you hurt me” and went on fussing about it, even after I had apologized.
---
I have not had my usual pre-spring dreams about spring flowers, but I had one dream recently that filled me with pleasure—It was in a dank woods, with tall stately trees. The ground was covered with dead beech-leaves, each one of them perfect in form, in ranging in color from pale bleached yellow to rich yellow-brown—Here and there thru the woods were bins, filled with yellow pears—the pears were long and slender, and with a delicious taste.
---
A dream last night—In a dance-hall—the dance was not going as well as the proprietor wished, so he said let “Burchfield and Queenie dance together, and really show you how”—Queenie was a tall arrogant negress. So we danced, and I remember feeling that I had to put all into it I could, even tho I was repelled at the thought of holding her so close.