Better Eyesight, September 1921
A MONTHLY MAGAZINE DEVOTED TO THE PREVENTION AND CURE OF IMPERFECT SIGHT WITHOUT GLASSES
HOW TO IMPROVE THE SIGHT BY MEANS OF THE IMAGINATION: No. 2
In a recent issue directions were given for improving the vision by the aid of the imagination. According to this method the patient ascertains what a letter is by imagining each of the four sides to be straight, curved, or open, and noting the effect of each guess upon the imagined swing of the letter. Another method which has succeeded even better with many patients is to judge the correctness of the guess by observing its effect on the appearance of the letter. Look at a letter which can be seen only as a gray spot, and imagine the top is straight. If the guess is right, the spot will probably become blacker; if it is wrong, the spot may become fainter or disappear. If no difference is apparent, rest the eyes by looking away, closing, or palming, and try again. In many cases, when one side has been imagined correctly, the whole letter will come out. If it does not, proceed to imagine the other sides as above directed. If, when all four sides have been imagined correctly, a letter does not come out, palm and repeat. One can even bring out a letter that one cannot see at all in this way. Look at a line of letters which cannot be seen, and imagine the top of the first letter to be straight. If the guess is correct, the line may become apparent, and by continued practice the letter may come out clearly enough to be distinguished.
THE FRECKLE-FACED BOY
By W. H. BATES, M.D.
IN one of the public schools of New York, some years ago, was a boy about ten years old with a very unusual amount of freckles. He had one of those smiles which some care-free boys carry around with them all the time, in all places, and under all conditions. His teacher was a very nervous person wearing glasses. Every time she spoke I was annoyed, not so much by what she said as by the disagreeable way in which she said it. As soon as I entered the room she began to find fault with me for introducing my method of curing and preventing imperfect sight in children into the school. Pointing sternly at the freckle-faced boy she said: "That boy is very nearsighted. He holds his book too close to his eyes. He cannot read the writing on the blackboard. He is all the time looking at the Snellen test card instead of studying his lessons. He talks about it to the other children in the class, and he encourages them to practice reading it. He tells them that he feels good when he reads it. Makes his eyes feel better. Helps him to learn his lessons. He is impertinent because he persists brazenly in advising me, his teacher, to practice reading those fool letters which do not even spell a word and have no meaning whatever. I wish you would insist that he get glasses for his own eyes and make him stop taking glasses off the eyes of other children. Really, Doctor, it is too absurd for anything. That boy has actually persuaded the other children that they cure their headaches and improve their sight by reading that card. If it were not for the principal, I would have thrown it away long ago."
She said some other things, too, which were even more uncomplimentary. The children became restless. When she stopped for breath I took the freckle-faced boy into a dark room, and examined his eyes with the ophthalmoscope. I found them perfect, with no trace of myopia or astigmatism. I asked him: "How is it that the teacher says you cannot read the writing on the blackboard?" He replied, still with his wonderful smile: "Because she is such a bum writer that nobody can read it; she acts often as if she couldn't read it herself." "How is it," I continued, "that you hold the book so close to your face?" He answered apologetically: "Because I get tired of the scenery." "What do you mean by that?" I asked. "Oh.” he answered, "the teacher's face; I don't like it. She is always so cross; her face gives me a pain." Then I took him back to the classroom and sent him to his seat. I asked the teacher if she could read the bottom line on the Snellen test card. She could not do so. Then I showed her an unfamiliar test card, which she saw even worse. She explained that her glasses needed to be changed. I asked the freckle-faced boy if he could read it. "Yes," he said, and promptly did so.