“It’s not normal,” he objected. “She can’t grow up as fast as all that. Let me see your tongue, my dear.”
‘Pooh,” she answered, displaying that member in a most undiagnostic manner, “Master Ling said I was further advanced along the Way than either one of you.”
“The heathen Chinee is peculiar. He was probably just encouraging you to grow up.
Seriously, Phil, hadn’t we better put her into a deep hypnosis and scoot her back up the mountain for diagnosis and readjustment?”
“Ben Coburn, you cast an eye in my direction and I’ll bung it out!”
Phil built up to his key demonstration with care. His lectures were sufficiently innocuous that he could afford to have his head of department drop in without fear of reprimand or interference.
But the combined effect was to prepare the students emotionally for what was to come.
Carefully selected assignments for collateral reading heightened his chances.
“Hypnosis is a subject but vaguely understood,” he began his lecture on the selected day, “and formerly classed with witchcraft, magic, and so forth, as silly superstition. But it is a commonplace thing today and easily demonstrated. Consequently the most conservative psychologists must recognize its existence and try to observe its characteristics.” He went on cheerfully uttering bromides and common-places, while he sized up the emotional attitude of the class.
When he felt that they were ready to accept the ordinary phenomena of hypnosis without surprise, he called Joan, who had attended for the purpose, up to the front of the room. She went easily into a state of light hypnosis. They ran quickly through the small change of hypnotic phenomena—catalepsy, compulsion, post-hypnotic suggestion—while he kept up a running chatter about the relation between the minds of the operator and the subject, the possibility of direct telepathic control, the Rhine experiments, and similar matters, orthodox in themselves, but close to the borderline of heterodox thought.
Then he offered to attempt to reach the mind of the subject telepathically.
Each student was invited to write something on a slip of paper. A volunteer floor committee collected the slips, and handed them to Huxley one at a time. He solemnly went through the hocus-pocus of glancing at each one, while Joan read them off as his eyes rested on them. She stumbled convincingly once or twice.—”Nice work, kid.”—”Thanks, pal. Can’t I pep it up a.little?”—”None of your bright ideas. Just keep on as you are. They’re eating out of our hands now.”
By such easy stages he led them around to the idea that mind and will could exercise control over the body much more complete than that ordinarily encountered. He passed lightly over the tales of Hindu holy men who could lift themselves up into the air and even travel from place to place.
“We have an exceptional opportunity to put such tales to practical test,” he told them. “The subject believes fully any statement made by the operator. I shall tell Miss Freeman that she is to exert her will power, and rise up off the floor. It is certain that she will believe that she can do it.
Her will will be in an optimum condition to carry out the order, if it can be done. Miss Freeman!”
“Yes, Mr. Huxley.”
“Exert your will. Rise up in the air!”
Joan rose straight up into the air, some six feet—until her head nearly touched the high ceiling.
—”How’m doin,’ pal?”
—Swell, kid, you’re wowin ’em. Look at ’em stare!”
At that moment Brinkley burst into the room, rage in his eyes.
“Mr. Huxley, you have broken your word to me, and disgraced this university!”
It was some ten minutes after the fiasco ending the demonstration. Huxley faced the president in Brinkley’s private office.
“I made you no promise. I have not disgraced the school,” Phil answered with equal pugnacity.
“You have indulged in cheap tricks of fake magic to bring your department into disrepute.”
“So I’m a faker, am I? You stiff- necked old fossil—explain this one!” Huxley levitated himself until he floated three feet above the rug.
“Explain what?” To Huxley’s amazement Brinckley seemed unaware that anything unusual was going on. He continued to stare at the point where Phils head had been. His manner showed nothing but a slight puzzlement and annoyance at Huxley’s apparently irrelevant remark.