I had made some progress with Mr. Lawrie that year, and when the first of June and the lengthy summer vacation came along I asked him for a job. I knew he would be very busy for the next three months and need assistants, as his models of the big statues of Generals Meade and Reynolds for the Gettysburg monument had been accepted.
Mr. Lawrie lived about twenty minutes from the Art School by streetcar. His studio was a lofty wooden structure that had formerly served as a coach house and stable. I was soon busy there, kneading clay, rolling it into cylinders and passing it up the ladder to Mr. Lawrie. Once he had me put on General Meade's uniform and pose for him, his assistant, Fagan, being too short, and at the moment occupied modeling an enlarged button, stars and a belt buckle. After Mr. Lawrie had given these the once over and a few finishing touches, a mould was made of the button and I went to work pressing clay into it and pulling out the required number of buttons, trimming their edges and then, from the ladder, sticking them in place. All of which gave me a sense of responsibility.
When the statue of General Meade was finished a committee of Civil War veterans came to pass on it. They spent most of their time examining the buttons, the belt buckle and the acorns on the brim of the general's hat. I showed them how I had pressed out the buttons and they were very interested and told me some things about the Civil War that they assured me were true. They were impressed when they heard I had worn the general's uniform, and regarded me as a privileged person. They seemed more interested in the uniform than the statue, and before leaving congratulated me on having worn it. One of them was a general himself. The statue was passed on unanimously.
Then the casting began and garlic and Italian plaster workers invaded the studio. The day work started a couple of them got into an argument, and as one of them had forgotten to bring his knife he dumped the pail of fresh plaster he was mixing over the other, and beat it. The plaster hardened right away and his friend would have been suffocated if someone had not had the presence of mind to start breaking it off with a hammer—which knocked him out. But they finally got his mouth and nose free so that he could breathe.
My first serious job of sculpture was modeling a Gothic owl for West Point, I gave it serious attention, and when I was quite satisfied with my work I notified Mr. Lawrie that it was ready for casting. Mr. Lawrie looked at it and sent me on an errand. When I got back a little later my owl had undergone such drastic changes that I did not recognize it. He had added the finishing touches.
By the end of September, when the Art School reopened I had gained some knowledge of the practical side of sculpture, the building of armatures, casting, making glue moulds, et cetera.