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User talk:Smmmaniruzzaman

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Again, welcome! Beeswaxcandle (talk) 23:28, 26 May 2012 (UTC)

Copyright of your translated poems
I have discovered a few poems translated by you: It seems to me that the original poems are probably copyrighted in the United States. If this is true, then I will need to delete these translations. Can you provide any evidence that the original poems are not copyrighted in the United States? —Beleg Tâl (talk) 20:56, 23 February 2017 (UTC)
 * Jibanananda das
 * Maybe i'm no human

title: User talk:Smmmaniruzzaman


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User talk:Fry1989

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Hello, Fry1989, and welcome to Wikisource! Thank you for. I hope you like the place and decide to stay. Here are a few good links for newcomers:
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Again, welcome! Beeswaxcandle (talk) 23:29, 26 May 2012 (UTC)

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/

title: User talk:Fry1989


text:
Page:Life of Octavia Hill as told in her letters.djvu/141

 not correct in his facts. We were talking about happiness, and Kingsley's suffering so much when he came to town. Ruskin said for his part he was never happy except when he was selfish, when he shut himself up, and read only the books he liked, or enjoyed the sunshine and nature. He did not know how it was that, whenever he did what he believed to be right, he suffered for it; that it seemed like his unlucky star. O. said, "Don't talk about stars. What do you mean by it?" R. said, "Well, I will give you a small crumb of an instance. When I was travelling a great many years ago, at a time my father was ill, I met with a picture of Turner's, one of the finest he ever did. I did not quite know the value of it myself; and I knew that it would vex my father if I bought it without his leave; so I wrote back to him. Meanwhile the picture was bought by some one, who utterly destroyed it. Now if I had bought it, it might have made my father lose his appetite for a day, but nothing more. And this is only one small instance. It is always the way when I do right. Miss Edgeworth would have made the picture go to a round of people, converting them to Turner, and come back to me crowned with laurel. I was brought up on Miss Edgeworth's principles; but I have not found them at all true in my case." Mama said there was a truth in them, but that in some respects they were very false; that she believed that every one had to suffer very much in doing right; that she had felt it so particularly about Ruskin himself; that the brave and true things he said were often misunderstood; but that she always felt her heart warm towards him, and she thought to herself,—if only people would receive them as they were meant. "But," she said, "I think you may be very happy that you do


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", Dick," remarked Paul, the next morning, as they leaped out of bed at the sound of the bugle giving the first call, "that spread must have cost you a pretty penny."

"I don't mind that a bit," replied the young millionaire, as he struggled into his uniform. "I'd be willing to spend a lot more if only the fellows would have come. But there's no use crying over spilled milk, as my dad says. Hurry up, Paul. Get this room in shape, or we'll be in for some bad marks at inspection."

The cadets quickly had their apartment in good order, and then got ready for breakfast.

They were a fine lot of cadets who filed into the mess hall a little later, well set-up young fellows, each with his uniform spick and span, marching with regular step that nearly approached the perfection of the trained soldier. For, such was the discipline at Kentfield, that even green lads quickly fell into the routine, and by this time Dick and the other freshmen carried


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Rh themselves almost as well as did the senior students.

"Ah, that'll be some fun," remarked Paul, as they were leaving the mess-hall after the meal.

"What?" asked Dick.

"Target practice. There's a notice on the bulletin board that we're to have it right after the first study period. Are you a good shot?"

"I used to be, but the guns here are heavier than I'm accustomed to. I don't believe I can do as well."

"Oh, I guess you can. I hear that some of the third year lads can't do very extra."

There were two target ranges at Kentfield, one for long distance shooting, in the open, and the other in a rifle pit, indoors. It was there that a number of the cadets and their officers assembled a little later. Toots, who was a sort of janitor about the pits, was on hand.

"Ah, Toots, going to show us how to shoot today?" asked a student.

"Sure," replied Sam. "I'll give you a few lessons. Lend me your gun."

"Here you go, Tootsy old chap," added another cadet, passing over his rifle.

As all the cadets had not yet arrived discipline was rather lax, and the officers made no objection.

"Here's where I crack the bulls-eye first shot!" exclaimed Toots. He handled the gun as though he had long been used to it, and took quick aim. A sharp report followed, but there was no


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102 "ping" of the target to indicate a shot.

"Ha! Ha! Toots, you missed it altogether," cried Russell Glen, a first-year and somewhat sporty student in Dick's class.

"No, I didn't neither!" objected Sam. 'It went clean through the target, that's why you didn't hear it. I'm a crack shot I am."

He really appeared to believe it, and was much disappointed when the marker called back that the bullet had gone about a foot over the target.

"Try again. Toots," said Glen.

"I will. This time I'll go right in the center."

Once more he fired, and the resulting laugh told that he had again missed.

"I guess this is your off day," observed Captain Dutton.

"Looks like it," remarked Toots ruefully, as he walked off, whistling "In a Prison Cell I Sit," and ending with the bugle call to charge.

The target practice soon began, and Dick, to his own surprise, made a good score, getting forty-nine out of a possible fifty.

"We have decided to have a practice march, around the lake, to-morrow," Major Webster announced to the cadets after target practice was over. "Fatigue uniforms of khaki be worn, and the affair will last all day. Lunch will be taken in the field. You know the regulations, Captain Dutton, so inform your command of them, and be ready after reveille to-morrow."


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Rh The major paused, Captain Dutton saluted, and his superior officer turned away, his sword clanking at his heels.

"A practice march!" exclaimed Paul to Dick. "That will be sport."

"It sure will," added Dick.

"Silence in the ranks;" cried Dutton, in a dictatorial manner. "Lieutenant Stiver, watch Hamilton, I think he talks altogether too much."

It was an unjust accusation, but Dick knew better than to answer back.

That afternoon further instructions were issued regarding the practice march. The cadets would take one ration with them, and a wagon containing utensils for making coffee, etc., would accompany the amateur soldiers. They would have their rifles with them, and, during the day would have practice in skirmish firing, in throwing up trenches, and advancing on an imaginary enemy.

They started off soon after breakfast, led by Colonel Masterly, Major Rockford and Major Webster, while the cadet officers were in charge of the four companies. A, B, C and D.

It was a fine day in October, just right for a march, and the cadets presented a neat appearance, as, headed by the superior officers on horseback, they marched along the shores of the lake, off towards a wooded plain. The boys were attired in blue flannel shirts, khaki trousers and leggings.


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104 "I hope they have more of these hikes before winter," remarked Paul to Dick.

"'Hike?' is that what you call 'em?"

"That's what the regulars do. It's a good name, I think."

"It sure is. Say, you get a fine view of the lake here."

The boys talked on, for there were no rules against it, and the experience of the march was a new one for many of them, including Dick.

They reached some suitable ground about ten o'clock and on orders from Major Webster the companies were formed into one command, under his direction. Then, an imaginary enemy having been located in a clump of woodland, the cadets were sent forward on the run, in skirmish parties, firing at will, and in volleys.

"Advance, and form trenches!" suddenly ordered the major.

The lads, using their bayonets as spades, and scooping the dirt up with their hands, soon formed shallow ditches, with an embankment of earth in front, and, lying prone behind this, ruthlessly mowed down the ranks of the enemy who still refused to show himself.

The rattle and bang of the rifles, the clouds of smoke, the flashes of fire, mingled with the hoarse commands of the major who was a war veteran; the rushing forward of the cadets, and their activity in digging trenches, made the scene one


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Rh of excitement. It was glorious sport, Dick thought.

Tired, dusty and warm, though willing to keep at this war game indefinitely, the young soldiers finally reached the edge of the woods, where, having dislogeddislodged [sic] the enemy, they were conceded to have won a victory, and the march was again taken up.

A halt for dinner was made beside a little brook. Toots, who had charge of the provision wagon brought it up, and proceeded to build fires to make coffee.

"Toots, you old scoundrel," affectionately exclaimed a senior cadet, "did you bring the cream for my coffee?"

"Yes, Mr. Morton. I brought a jug full," replied Toots, who entered into the spirit of the fun.

"And I want a white table cloth," stipulated another.

"I've got one up my sleeve," answered Toots, busying himself about the wagon.

Campfires were soon ablaze, and the appetizing smell of coffee and steaks filled the air. The cadets opened their haversacks, and were preparing to eat, having formed into little informal groups, each company by itself.

"Say, Stiver," remarked Dutton, to his lieutenant, looking at a field of late sweet corn, which was near where they were camped, "I'd like a few of those ears to roast. How about you?"


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106 "Sure's you're a foot high; but you know the orders. Mustn't do any foraging."

"Ah, what's the rule between friends? Besides, Colonel Masterly and Major Webster are away over on the other side of the woods. Send some of the freshmen after some corn."

"I'm not going to. You can if you want to."

"I will. Here, Boardman, you and Booker and Hamilton go and get some of that green corn."

"I'll not," replied Dick promptly, who knew that this refusal to obey his superior officer would be upheld, if, indeed, Dutton would dare prefer a charge against him.

"Afraid, eh?" sneered the young captain. "Very well, then, You take Hamilton's place, Butler."

The three lads designated, either being afraid to incur Button's displeasure, or because they wanted some of the corn, quietly sneaked into the field, and quickly returned with big armsful, which were soon put to roast, the husks being concealed under the leaves in the woods.

"Maybe, you'll have some?" asked Dutton, in sneering tones, of Dick, as the captain and his cronies began eating the roast corn.

"No thank you. Not that I don't like it, but I prefer to get it another way."

Dick felt that he was putting himself further than ever beyond the pale of his comrades' liking by his conduct, but he could not help it.

The lunch was almost over, and most of the


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Rh corn had disappeared, when an elderly man, evidently a farmer, crawled through the fence near where Dick's company was. There was an angry look on his face.

"Which of you lads stole my corn?" he demanded. "And besides that you trampled down a lot. Who done it? That's what I want to know."

There was no need to answer. The evidences of the stolen corn were all about.

"I'm going to report this to Colonel Masterly," said the farmer, striding off toward where the superintendent was talking to the two majors.


text: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 12

title: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 12


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Page:Life of Octavia Hill as told in her letters.djvu/142

 excite the kind of admiration that you do, in many people; and that you have the power of exciting the noble and beautiful emotions which your words and writings do." Ruskin said that he would wish his word about art to be taken just in the same way that a physician's or lawyer's would be about medicine or law. O. said she was sure it was so, more than he thought; and that it was a growing thing. That a lady had said to her the other day, that a word from him would be enough to ruin her; and O. added, "At which I felt very proud." She said that she thought when people did right, the good they expected very often did not come, because they were not perfectly wise, as well as perfectly right; but that, tho' they had to suffer for want of judgment, in the end they were always blessed; but in different ways from those they had expected; that, as long as people calculated results, they could not do right; they must do right for right's sake.

Ruskin said, "Do you mean to say that a man, who had been very selfish, and thought he would make himself happy by going out and giving to all the beggars he met, would not succeed?" O. said, "No! he might at first, but he would find afterwards that he had gathered around him many people who only cared for his money. Whereas, if a man did the same thing from a sincere love for his fellow creatures, he would not have the pain of suspecting the motives of all around him, and he would have the sympathy of those engaged in the same good work." They were speaking of the blessing of having the sympathy of people, and R. said he had some people who understood him. O. said, with a very bright smile, "Oh have you?" R. said, "Yes. I think you do pretty well."

Then Mama read Miranda's letter about her voyage


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" on!" cried Dutton, springing to his feet. "Wait a minute, Mr.—er—Mr.—"

"No, you can't come any game like that over me!" cried the angry farmer. "You stole my corn, and trampled a lot of it down. That's agin orders, an' I know it. I'll report to your superior officers, and we'll see how you'll like it."

"But—er—but I say—" stammered Button, wishing he could do something to placate the man, for he knew that all the blame would fall on him, and that he would be severely dealt with; perhaps reduced to the ranks.

"No. I'll not listen to you," replied the farmer. "I'm going to report to Colonel Masterly."

"Now look at the mess you've got us into, Dutton," said Stiver. "Why couldn't you let the corn alone."

"Shut up!" retorted the cadet captain. "I say, Mr.—Mr. Farmer," he called after the man.

"My name's not Farmer, but I know what yours will be; it'll be Mud, soon. I'll teach you tin soldiers to spoil my corn."

There were murmurs among the cadets. They


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Rh feared lest the whole company might be punished. But a scheme had come into Dick Hamilton's mind. Without asking permission from Dutton he hurried after the farmer.

"How much will pay for the damage to your corn, and what the boys took," he asked quietly, holding out a roll of bills, for Dick never was without a substantial sum.

"Now you're talking, sonny," said the farmer, a different look coming into his face. "Why didn't that captain of yours say so at first?"

"What's the damage?" asked Dick. From experience he had learned that cash will make up for almost any kind of a hurt.

"Wa'al, seein' as that was particularly fine corn, I'll have to charge you ten dollars for what ye took, and what damage ye done."

"Ten dollars! That's too much!" cried Paul Drew. "Don't pay it, Dick."

"Wa'al, then I'll see the colonel. I guess he'll pay that, rather than have his school sued," said the angry man.

"Here are ten dollars," said Dick quietly, handing over a bill. "I guess the boys found the corn worth it," he added with a smile.

"That's all right," said the farmer, as he pocketed the money. "I wouldn't 'a made a fuss if I'd a knowed you was goin' to pay for it. I'm reasonable, I am."

"Not at selling corn," murmured Paul, as the man went back into his field.


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110 "Hurrah for Hamilton!" cried several cadets, who realized what Dick's action meant for them. "He's all right."

"He got us out of bad scrape," observed Lieutenant Stiver. "My record won't stand many more demerits."

But instead of thanking Dick, Dutton turned aside. He acted as if he disliked to be under any obligations to the cadet who he so unreasonably hated.

"Hamilton wanted to show off, and let us see that he had money," said the captain, contemptuously. "I suppose we ought to vote him a medal—a gold one, studded with diamonds, seeing that he's a millionaire."

"That's not right, Ray," murmured Stiver in a low tone. "He's got us out of a hole."

"I don't care! I wish he'd take himself out of this academy. We don't want millionaires here."

Probably most of Dutton's feeling toward Dick, was due to jealousy, for Ray's father, though wealthy, was far from being as rich as Mr. Hamilton.

Dick bit his lip, to keep back a sharp reply at the unjust construction put upon his act.

"I shouldn't do anything for him again," whispered Paul.

"Well, I did it for the whole company, as much as for him," replied the young millionaire. "In another minute Colonel Masterly would have


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Rh heard the row, and there'd been the mischief to pay."

The march was resumed after dinner and academy was reached in time for supper. The cadets were much pleased with their practice "hike," while the officers were complimented on the order they had maintained.

"I guess the colonel would preach a different sort of a sermon if he knew about the corn," remarked Paul, as he and Dick started for their quarters.

"Well, as long as he doesn't know, there's no harm done."

"My, but I'm tired," announced Paul, as he undressed. "I'm glad we don't have any lessons to-morrow."

"What do we have?"

"Artillery drill. Have you forgotten?"

"That's so. I had. I've got to ride one of the leading horses too. Guess there'll be plenty of excitement."

"Shouldn't wonder. I'm on the gun-carriage, where I reckon I'll be shaken so my liver pin will fall out."

"I'll try not to let it. There go taps. Douse the glim."

The two cadets crawled into bed and were soon asleep.

Artillery drill at the Kentfield academy was as near like the real article as possible. The guns were four-inch field pieces, each drawn by six


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112 horses, the two leaders being ridden by cadets, while seven men were on the gun itself, an arrangement somewhat different from that in the regular army. Real ammunition was used in practice, the pieces being directed at target placed against a hill of soft dirt, in which the balls buried themselves.

The artillery practice began soon after morning inspection. The cadets had all been instructed in how to load, aim and fire the field pieces, and had also had practice in driving the artillery into place. For the first time, however, they were now to indulge in this under the critical eye of an officer from the regular army, who was visiting the academy.

The first part of the drill consisted in firing at targets, before horses were hitched to the guns. The cadets did well at this, the different squads making good scores. Dick, who was detailed at the breech, had a chance to aim. He thought he sighted perfectly, but when it was fired the ball did not hit the target cleanly. It was the last shot in that particular part of the tactics, and it left Dick's squad with the lowest record.

"That's all your fault, Hamilton!" cried Captain Dutton angrily. "Why didn't you aim that right? Then we'd have had a chance to make a good score."

"I did aim it right, but the gun must have shifted. Maybe one of the wheels was on a small stone."


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Rh "Nonsense. It's your stupidity. You've lost us a good mark."

Dutton angrily slammed the breech-block shut. Dick gave a start, but stiffled the cry of pain that he was ready to give utterance to, for one of his fingers was caught in the breech, and the blood spurted from it, as the angry captain closed the gun.

"Open the breech! Quick!" cried Paul, who had seen what had happened.

"What's that?" asked Dutton, who had turned aside.

Dick's roommate did not answer. Instead he took hold of the block with both hands, and wrenched it open, releasing our hero, whose white face showed the pain he suffered.

"Sorry I hurt you," said Dutton, calmly. "You shouldn't have had your finger there. I suppose you can't drive now, in the next test."

"I'll drive," said Dick, grimly, as he bound his handkerchief tightly around his finger, to stop the bleeding. The nail was smashed, and it was very painful.

"Then hurry up, and get the horses. They're ready to begin."

This test was a difficult one. In turn the different gun squads were to approach a certain spot on the gallop. They were to go through a narrow passage, indicated by stakes stuck into the ground, and, at the end were to suddenly wheel the giui, fire three shots, and continue on at a


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114 gallop to the end of the course. If any of the stakes were touched it counted against the squad, and other points were won or lost by the speed and accuracy of firing.

In spite of his pain Dick mounted his horse, and was soon ready, with 'Gene Graham, who was to ride the other steed, to start off with the field piece.

A squad from Company B went first. They cleared the stakes nicely, and did good work in wheeling and firing.

"I hope we beat them," murmured Captain Dutton, who was on the gun carriage.

Dick grimly resolved that if he had anything to do with it they would.

Company C's team came next, and did well, but the off horse struck a stake.

"Don't let that happen, Hamilton," cautioned Captain Dutton, as it came their turn.

Dick and Graham urged their animals to a gallop, and with a deep rumble the gun followed after them. On and on they went, toward the narrow lane formed by the upright stakes. Dick's heart was beating hard as he neared them. Would he clear them?

With unerring eye the young millionaire guided his animal, and so did Graham. With folded arms, and almost as stiff as ramrods, the cadets sat on the gun carriage. The leading horses were at the first stakes now, but the real test would come when the wide gun carriage reached them.


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Rh "Go on!" yelled Dick to his horse, a swift pace being most essential in order to keep on a straight course.

Dick gave a glance back. One wheel seemed about to hit a stake, but he quickly swerved his horse and the danger was averted. They got through without touching, and at a swifter pace than had any of their competitors. A burst of cheers from the watching cadets, and some visitors, rewarded them.

"Careful now!" cautioned Captain Dutton, as Dick wheeled his horse about.

Whether the animal was frightened at the cheering, or whether Dick, because of his injured finger, did not have a proper hold of the reins, was never know [sic], but, at that instant, the horse suddenly swerved, turning almost at right angles, and pulling off the course. So quickly was it done that it seemed as if the gun and carriage would upset, injuring several of the lads.

But Dick was equal to the occasion. Though the strain, which he had to put on the reins hurt his wounded hand very much, he never flinched. With a steady pull, and a sharp word of command, he swung his horse's head around, and just in time to avoid sending the gun over sideways.

Then, with a smart blow of his hand on the animal's flank Dick set him to a sharp gallop. Graham's steed, which had been pulled from his stride, regained it, and the horses behind, straightening out of the confusion into which they


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116 had been thrown, leaped forward, pulling the rumbling gun after them. Through it all, and in spite of their narrow escape, the cadets on the carriage had not so much as unfolded their arms.

On toward the place where they were to fire Dick and Graham rushed their horses. A moment later they wheeled them, the cadets leaped down, the gun was unlimbered, a shot rammed home, and the men stood at attention.

"Fire!" cried Captain Dutton.

A puff of white smoke, a sliver of flame and then a deep boom, while a black ball was hurled toward the distant target.

Twice more this was repeated, and then the gun was limbered, or attached to the limber, the forward part of the carriage, and the horses galloped off with it. Dick's squad had made a perfect score, in spite of the actions of his horse, and the cadets that came after them failed, so Captain Dutton's men won in the test.

But Dick felt sick and faint from the pain in his finger which had started to bleeding again, because of the strain caused by the reins.


text: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 13

title: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 13


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" well done, young gentlemen—very well done indeed," complimented Colonel Masterly, as Dick and his fellow cadets came driving slowly past where the head of the academy sat with some visitors, and the army officer.

"Indeed, the regulars will have to look to their laurels when such lads as these are doing as well as that," observed the officer. "I thought they were going to have a spill there, at one time. But the lad on the off horse saved the day. Who is he?"

"Millionaire Hamilton's son," said the superintendent in a low voice, yet not so low but that Dick heard him.

"I wish they wouldn't refer to me that way," he thought. "I'd like to be myself once in a while—just Dick Hamilton. Money isn't what it's cracked up to be."

"Why, Hamilton, are you hurt?" asked Major Webster, as Dick guided his horse to the place where the animals would be unhitched. He looked


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118 at the red-stained handkerchief around the young millionaire's hand.

"Just a scratch," replied Dick bravely, though the pain of his crushed finger made him wince. "I caught it in the gun. It doesn't amount to anything."

He saw Dutton looking at him, and he fancied he detected a sneer on the cadet captain's face.

"Well, go to the surgeon, and have it dressed," said the major. "We don't want you to get blood poison. Is yours the only injury of the day?"

"I guess so," replied Dick, with an attempted laugh.

"A scratch!" exclaimed the surgeon, when Dick had so characterized the wound, as he came to have it dressed. "Well, I wouldn't want many scratches like that. Why the top of the finger is crushed. You shouldn't have kept on after you got this."

"I'd have to if we were fighting in earnest," was all Dick said, and he gritted his teeth hard to keep from screaming out when the surgeon dressed the wound.

Fortunately the remainder of the week was devoted to the more quieter forms of military life, the cadets spending considerable time in studying, drilling and reciting.

One afternoon word was sent to Dick, who was studying in his room, that a visitor desired to see him.


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Rh "Who is it?" he asked the housekeeper, who brought the message.

"I don't know. It's a gentleman from Hamilton Corners."

"I hope it's some of the boys," murmured Dick. "Or even a sight of 'Hank' Darby would be welcome," for, in spite of the activities at Kentfield, Dick was a bit homesick.

He found waiting for him Captain Handlee.

"I come to see if you had any news of my son," said the veteran pitifully. "I'm about to go out west on a clue I have, but I thought I'd stop off here."

"No," replied Dick, "I'm sorry, but I haven't any news for you. I wrote you about my inquiries."

"Yes, I know, but I hoped something might have happened since then."

"No, I regret to say, there hasn't. But how does it come that you're going out west?"

"Well, I have an idea I can get some clues there. I'm going to look up some old soldiers who were in my son's company. Your father gave me the money to go."

"My father? Is he home?" asked Dick quickly, hoping his parent had unexpectedly returned from abroad.

"Oh, no. He gave it to me before he left. I mentioned that I'd like to go out west, and he gave me a good sum. I don't know what I'd do but for him."


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120 "When are you going west?" asked Dick.

"Right away. I guess I'd better be leaving here now."

"If you have any time to spare, captain, perhaps you'd like to stay and see the cadets go through some drills."

"I think I would, if the commander will let me."

"Of course he will. Old soldiers are always welcome here. We're going to have some wall-scaling drills just before parade this evening. I'd like to have you stay and see them."

"I will, thanks."

Dick spoke to Colonel Masterly about Captain Handlee, and the veteran not only received a cordial invitation to remain, but was taken in charge by Major Webster, who asked him to occupy his quarters, and take his meals there.

The wall-scaling drills were always enjoyed by the cadtes [sic], as they offered changes for rough and ready fun. The walls were structures of boards, between ten and fifteen feet high, placed on the open field, and the object was for the lads, by means of a pyramid formation, to get all their comrades over the top, while the men left behind, who had assisted their fellows over, would either scramble up by means of a rope, anchored by lads on the other side, or would be pulled up by their comrades who leaned over the high fence.


text: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 14

title: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 14


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the exercises for the day were over, Dick sought out Captain Handlee, and inquired how he liked the wall-scaling.

"Fine! Fine!" exclaimed the veteran. "We never had such practice when I was in the army, but we did pretty near the same in real life. I remember one occasion at Chancellorsville—"

"Now Captain Handlee," interrupted Major Webster. who had constituted himself host to the veteran, "you keep all such stories for me. If you get telling them to the cadets, first thing I know I'll have to be providing big brick walls for them to scale."

He led the veteran away, the aged captain bidding good-bye to Dick.

"I hope you'll be successful on your trip," said the young millionaire.

"I hope so, too, Dick, for I miss my son more and more as I grow older."

In spite of the good record he made in the drills, at artillery practice and in his class, Dick


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122 found as the weeks went by, that he was making no progress in becoming popular with the main body of students at Kentfield. He had a few chums among the freshmen, and of course was on speaking terms with all the others, but aside from Paul Drew, his roommate, he had no close friends. This state of affairs made him feel sad, for at home he had been the most popular lad in town.

"I'm not succeeding as I thought I would," he said to himself, one day. "I guess I'll have to put my plan into operation. But perhaps I'd better wait a while yet. I'll give this way a fair show."

As fall advanced there began to be talk about forming the football eleven. A number of new players were needed, because some of the best had graduated the previous year.

"I hope I can make the team," said Dick to Paul one evening during their study period. "I used to be considered a good player at home."

"I don't see why you can't get on. Fortunately Dutton has nothing to say about who shall play, though he's considered one of the team's supporters and backers."

"Still he may influence Captain Rutledge. I hear they are going to pick candidates this week."

"Yes, I heard Harry Hale, the coach, talking about it. I hope you make the eleven, Dick."

It was the following day, when Dick was out in the field, with some other cadets of his class,


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Rh getting instruction in survey work, that he overheard something which made him feel more than ever like giving up the fight against his handicap. He was standing near a thick hedge, holding the scale rod, while another cadet was reading it through the instrument, when he heard voices behind the shrubbery.

"Looks to me like Hamilton would make a good player," he caught, and he knew that Coach Hale was speaking.

"You're right," said Captain Rutledge. "He's got the right build, and I hear he played at home."

"Aw, you don't want him on the team," expostulated a voice which Dick knew at once belonged to Captain Dutton.

"Why not?" asked the coach, in some surprise.

"Well, none of the other fellows like him. You wouldn't get good team work if he played."

"Are you sure?" asked Captain Rutledge.

"Sure. He's not popular."

"What's the matter with him?"

"Well, he's got too much money, and he's always trying to make it known. He gives himself as many airs as if he came of an old family."

This was an unjust accusation, but the coach and captain did not know it, as they were upperclass cadets, and did not mingle much with the freshmen.

"Well, we won't want to get an unpopular fellow on the eleven," said the coach, dubiously.

"No, indeed," agreed the captain. "Still, we


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124 need good players. Suppose we give him a trial?"

"You'll be sorry if you do," Dutton assured them.

Dick longed to drop the rod, leap over the hedge and give a well-deserved threshing to Button, but he knew he would lose more than he would gain. He was brought quickly out of his fit of righteous anger by the sharp command of the officer in charge of the surveying party.

"Plumb east there! Hamilton!" was the cry, and Dick saw that he had allowed the rod to slant too much. He straightened it, and, glancing at the hedge saw the three cadets who had been talking, moving away. But, before they got out of earshot Dick heard Dutton say:

"I wouldn't put him on the team, if I were you, for I don't think he'll be here long."

"Why not? Doesn't he like it?" asked Captain Rutledge.

"Oh, I guess he likes it all right, but we don't like him. I shouldn't wonder but what something would happen to make him leave," and Dutton laughed sarcastically.

"I guess I'd better be on my guard," thought Dick as he moved the rod to another place, in obedience to the instructions from the cadet at the instrument.

A few days after this, a notice was posted on the bulletin board in the gymnasium, telling all candidates for the football team to report on the


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Rh gridiron that afternoon, as selections for the regular and scrub teams would be made. Members of the scrub would act as substitutes on the regular.

"Here's where I get my chance," said Dick to Paul.

"Well, I hope you make the regular team," replied his roommate, as the young millionaire went to submit himself for examination.

Coach Hale, Captain Rutledge, and a number of the former players were on hand, as was Dutton, and some of his cronies. All the candidates were looked over, sized up physically, and put through a course of "sprouts" in running, leaping, and tackling. Then their football history was inquired into.

"I guess you'll do, Hamilton," said the coach, and Dick was delighted.

A moment later, however, he saw his hopes dashed to the ground. Dutton called Harry Hale over to him, whispered a bit, and then Captain Rutledge joined them.

"You'll be on the scrub, Hamilton," said Hale, a little later. "You'll probably have a chance to play in several games, however, for I like your form. You've got to be regular at practice however."

Though much disappointed, Dick vowed to do his best at practice. This was started a few days later, and, when the regular team lined up against the substitutes, Dick resolved that they


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126 would make no gains through him, for he was playing at left guard, though he preferred being back of the line.

"Well, how are we making out," Dick overheard Captain Rutledge asking the coach, one afternoon, following some hard scrimmages.

"Pretty good. That Hamilton is like a brick wall, though. We can't gain a foot through him. I wish we had him on the regular."

"Well, you know what Dutton said."

"Yes, I know, but I don't believe all Dutton says. He's got queer notions. I think Hamilton is every bit as good as he is. Besides, Dutton doesn't play football."

"I know it, but he has lots of influence."

Dick fully subscribed to this, for he knew it was due to Dutton that he was on the scrub instead of on the regular team. But he resolved to have patience.

As Dick walked off the gridiron, following the practice, he was met, before he reached his barracks, by Grit, who had been let out of his kennel in the stables.

"Hello, Grit old fellow!" exclaimed Dick, and the dog nearly dislocated his stump of a tail, so excited was he. Since rejoining his master he had picked up wonderfully. "I've got you for a friend, even if I haven't many others," said Dick, as he bent over to fondle the dog. As he did so he saw some marks on the animal's smooth, satin-like coat, that made him start.


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Rh "Grit, you've been fighting!" he exclaimed. "How did that happen?" He knew there were no other dogs near the academy with whom his pet would quarrel. He asked the stableman about it.

"Sure Grit's been in a fight," replied one of the hostlers. "I thought you matched him in a scrap wid a dorg in town. Grit won, anyhow. It was a couple a' nights ago."

"Matched him in a fight? Why, did some one—some of the cadets take Grit to town, and let him fight?"

"Thot's what they done, Muster Hamilton, an' they won a pot of money on him too, I understand."

"Who took him? asked Dick, trying to speak calmly.

"Why, uts no secret. Muster Dutton an' Muster Stiver tuck him one night. Ut was a foin foight, I heard 'em say."

Dick started away, after chaining Grit up, a set look on his face.

"I'll have it out with Dutton," he said.


text: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 15

title: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 15


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a bath and rub down in the gymnasium Dick dressed for evening parade. When this was over he sought out Dutton, who was strolling off the campus with some chums.

"Captain Dutton, I wish to speak to you," said Dick, formally saluting.

"Well, I don't know that I wish to speak to you. What is it?" asked the young snob, barely acknowledging Dick's courtesy.

"Did you take my bulldog to town, and match him to fight another?"

Dutton started, then looked insolently at Dick.

"What of it?" he asked sneeringly.

"This much. That you haven't any right to do that, even if you are my superior officer. Grit is my personal property, and I won't have him fighting."

"Aw, what's the harm, Hamilton,. He put up a dandy fight and licked a bigger dog than he is," put in one of the cadets.

"I don't care, I don't want him to fight."

"Oh, you don't?" asked Button collycooly [sic].


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 "No; and if you take him again"

"Well, what will you do? Report me, I suppose?" said the captain.

"No, but I'll thrash you worse than I did the other time. Captain Dutton, that's what I'll do!" exclaimed Dick, hotly. "You leave Grit alone! If you take him again you know what to expect!"

Dutton turned pale. He strode toward Dick, but at that moment Captain Grantly, one of the instructors, strolled past. Dutton turned aside.

"You haven't heard the last of this—my fresh millionaire," he said in a whisper to Dick, as he and his cronies walked off. "You'll wish you hadn't insulted me."

Dick saluted, as the rules required, and marched back to quarters. He felt that he would have enjoyed a good stiff fight with his mean enemy.

"I don't suppose this will add to my popularity, among the sporting element," he said to himself. "But I don't care; they shan't fight Grit!"

Football practice went on every afternoon, and Dick and the other scrubs were faithful at it. The regular eleven was being whipped into shape, and the first game was close at hand. When it was played Dick found himself wishing he could have a chance, but no such thing happened. The opponents of Kentfield were light-weight players, and the cadets had no difficulty in piling up a big score.


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130 "But it will be different next week," Captain Rutledge warned them. "We tackle Mooretown then, and you'll find your work cut out for you."

This game was indeed a stiff one, and several players were hurt. The cadets were slightly ahead in the second half, when the right half-back was knocked out, and, as there had been one substitute already put in at that position, there was a call for another one.

"Try Hamilton," suggested the coach, after a hurried consultation with the captain.

Dick's heart gave a wild throb, as he was called, and, stripping off his sweater, he bounded in from the side line. He was given the ball for a play around the left end, and, getting clear of the opposing players started down the field on a run. But, alas for his hopes of making a touch-down! The referee's whistle blew when he was on the thirty-five yard line, ending the game, in favor of Kentfield.

There was rejoicing among the cadets, for Mooretown was an ancient rival, and they played three games with the students of that non-military academy every year, for the local championship.

"You didn't get much of a show, Hamilton," said Coach Hale, as the team was in the dressing room. "But you started off well. I guess you'll get into a game yet."

Dick was grateful for this praise. He knew he could do good work if he had half a chance.

"This is Saturday," observed Paul Drew, as he


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Rh crawled out of bed the next morning. "Not so many lessons to-day, and lots of fun for you, I suppose on the horses. It's rough-riding to-day."

"So it is," agreed Dick. "I like that best of all, except, maybe, hiking on a practice march, and firing from the trenches. I hope I get the horse I had last time."

"To-day's the last of the tests," went on Paul, as he slippen [sic] into his uniform.

"How do you mean?"

"I mean the officers are going to choose from those who ride to-day, the cadets who can take part in the tests for joining the prize troop."

"Right you are. Say, I'm going to make that troop or bust a leg."

"Well, I hope you don't break any bones. But I guess there's no danger. You seem right at home on a horse."

"I ought to. I've been riding ever since I was a kid. I'm going to do my best to-day."

As Paul had said, this was the final weeding out of candidates among the cadets, who had no chance in the tests that would be held later, to determine who should be members of the prize troop. This troop consisted of the best riders at the academy, and took part in several state evolutions and parades, having won a number of trophies.

Scores of cadets, in their service uniforms, reported on the cavalry plain for practice. They were required to vault into the saddle while their


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132 horse was standing still, and at varying speeds, up to a smart gallop. Many failed in this, but Dick did not.

Then came mounting and dismounting at hurdles, which was more difficult, and weeded out a number, and then, the last of the semi-finals, was the feat of standing astride on two horses, driving a steed on either side, and, while doing this, to take a difficult hurdle.

More than a score did not succeed at this, and Dick was not a little nervous when it came his turn, as, though he was an expert, he had not practiced this evolution much.

On his steeds thundered over the ground, one being a skittish horse, and hard to manage.

"If they don't jump together," thought Dick, "I'm done for. If one of them knocks down the hurdle bar it's all up with my chances."

He called encouragingly to the animals, and took a tighter hold on the reins, while he shifted his weight on the backs of the horses.

"Over you go now, boys!" he exclaimed at the take-off, and he fairly lifted the four animals as one, over the bar. clearing it cleanly.

"Good, Hamilton!" was the quiet praise of Major Webster, who acted as judge. "That was finely done."

So Dick qualified for the finals.

But there was more hard work ahead of him. Thus far not many of the freshmen had kept up to Dick, and there were envious eyes cast at him.


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Rh But those who envied him his good fortune realized that he had earned it.

"Now, gentlemen, ready for the finals," ordered Major Webster. "I want you all to be careful, and take no unnecessary risks, at the same time, don't be afraid, for no one ever became a good horseman who was afraid."

The final tests consisted in riding bareback, in different postures, such as might become necessary during a battle, in riding at different speeds, in removing the saddle from the horse while at full gallop, in leaping hurdles, and taking water jumps.

Other tests were in leaping hurdles four feet high, and as the cadets vaulted, taking a suspending ring on a lance, in leaping clean over a running horse and in forming pyramids, with ten cadets on four horses.

The last test was, perhaps, the most difficult of all. It consisted in one cadet lying on the ground, and another riding toward him at full speed. The one on the horse had to pick up his comrade from the earth, by leaning over and grasping his upstretched hand, and then assisting him up behind him on his horse, continuing to gallop away.

When it came Dick's turn he noticed, with some uneasiness, that the cadet he was to pick up, was one of the heaviest in the school, but he resolved to succeed, and he braced himself for the ordeal, as his horse galloped toward the prostrate youth.


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134 As he neared the recumbent figure Dick leaned over, holding on as tightly as he could with his legs. His hand grasped the belt and part of the clothing of the cadet, and then Dick's arm felt as if it would be torn from the socket. He feared he would be dragged from his horse.

But, with a sudden pull, he lifted the lad from the ground and swung him upon his horse. There was some applause at Dick's feat, as his steed galloped on over the course.

"Guess I'm something of a load, old chap," said the cadet to Dick.

"You're no feather," was Dick's comment, as he halted his horse.


text: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 16

title: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 16


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", Hamilton, I think we shall admit you to membership in the prize troop," said Major Webster. "It was a severe test, and you did well."

"I'm glad you think so, sir," replied Dick, saluting.

There were some further trials, in some of them Dick acting the part of the reclining cadet. 'Gene Graham could not succeed in the test, and was rejected, much to his disappointment.

Dick was delighted to be a member of the prize troop for it brought with it many privileges; and there was a chance to take part in parades and similar affairs to which the other cadets were not admitted.

Very few freshmen had won the coveted honor, but it can not be said that Dick was received with open arms into the troop. Dutton and many of his friends belonged, and they had lost none of their unreasonable feeling against Dick. Still they did nothing more than turn a cold shoulder toward him, though this was enough to make the young millionaire miserable.


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136 However, he managed to forget some of his bad feeling in anticipation of another football game, which was to take place two days later. He hoped to get a chance to play, as, following a rather tame affair with a team which the Kentfield eleven "walked all over," there was to be the second of the championship contests with Mooretown.

This was a lively and strenuous game. Mooretown put in some new players, and, though they did not score in the first half, when Kentfield made one touchdown, the opponents of the cadet warriors of the gridiron took such a brace in the second that the score was ten to four, in favor of Mooretown, when the referee's whistle blew,

"What's the matter with your men?" asked Coach Hale of Captain Rutledge, after the game. "They couldn't hold those fellows for a cent."

"Too much beef for us," replied the captain.

"Yes, and they tore holes in your line that you could drive an ice wagon through," went on the coach. "Both your guards were weak. Hamilton should have been put in."

"I couldn't very well do it, when no men were hurt."

"No, I suppose not. But if the next game doesn't go better than this one did, I'll make a change. We can't afford to lose it."

"We shan't lose it," promised the captain, and Dick, who overheard what was said, hoped he would get a chance to play.


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Rh Meanwhile he reported regularly for practice, and was a tower of strength to the scrub eleven, many of the players on which, regardless of Button's influence, made of Dick a better friend than heretofore.

Several unimportant games followed, one of which resulted in a tie, Kentfield winning the others, and then came the occasion of the final struggle with Mooretown. It was the greatest game of the season, as it meant much to both academies.

The day before the contest Dick was surprised to receive a visit from Russell Glen, one of the freshmen cadets, who, hitherto, had scarcely taken the trouble to nod to him. Glen wanted to be considered a "sport," and Dick had heard that he had had a hand in taking Grit off to the dog fight.

"I had a letter from a friend of mine to-day," said Glen, by way of introduction, as he lolled in one of Dick's easy chairs. "It contained some surprising news."

"Yes?" asked Dick politely.

"Yes, it was from Guy Fletcher, of Hamilton Corners. He spoke of you, and asked me if I knew you."

"Well?" asked Dick, wondering what was coming.

"I was quite surprised to know that you and Guy were friends," went on Glen.

"Oh, yes, I've known Guy for some time,"


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138 said Dick, not caring to go into particulars, and tell what a mean trick Guy, in company with Simon Scardale, had once played on him.

"So he says. He speaks very highly of you. I've known him for some time. He and I used to be quite chummy. But I had no idea you and he lived in the same town, until he spoke of it in his letter. He mentioned that you attended this academy, and asked if I was acquainted with you. I wrote back and said that I was."

Dick looked rather surprised at this, as well he might, for, beyond a mere nod, Glen had never shown that he knew him.

"I don't suppose I am as well acquainted with you as I might be," went on the young "sport," calmly, "and that's my fault. I've been so busy attending to my studies, that I haven't had much time for social calls."

Neither had many of the other cadets, Dick thought bitterly.

"But I'll make amends now," went on Glen. "I want to get to know you better, because we both have the same friend in Guy Fletcher."

Dick didn't think it worth while to state that Guy was no particular friend of his, since certain happenings told of in the first volume of this series. But Glen continued:

"I wish you'd come to a little spread I'm giving to-night. Just a small affair for some of the freshmen."


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Rh "I'll come," promised our hero, glad of the chance to meet some of his classmates informally.

"It won't be as elaborate as the one I hear you gave," went on Glen, "for I'm not a millionaire," and he laughed. "But I'll do the best I can."

At first Dick thought he was going to have a good time at the affair, for the guests, most of whom were of the "sporting" element, greeted him cordially enough. But when Glen produced several bottles of beer, and some cigars, Dick felt uneasy.

It was an offense, calling for severe punishment, to have intoxicants or tobacco in the academy, and Dick realized that discovery might come any moment. Still, he did not want to bring upon himself ridicule, and perhaps anger, by leaving.

"Have some beer, Hamilton," urged Glen. "It's the right sort of stuff. I had it smuggled in from town. And these are prime cigars. I smuggled some from dad's stock before I came away."

"No, thank you," replied Dick. "I don't care for any."

"What, don't you drink?"

"No."

"Aw, you don't know what life is. Have a cigar then."

"No, I don't smoke, either."

"Humph! You're a regular molly-coddle, you are," said Glen, with a brutal laugh.


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140 Dick flushed.

"Maybe," he admitted, as pleasantly as he could, "but I have an idea I shouldn't drink or smoke while in training, if for no other reason."

"Your training doesn't seem to be doing you much good," said another cadet. "You haven't had a show in any of the games yet. Better quit training and have some beer."

"No, thank you. Maybe I'll get a chance to play to-morrow."

But Dick's refusal had no effect on Glen's other guests. They drank more than was good for them, and smoked considerable. They were becoming rather noisy and silly, and Dick was in momentary terror lest some guard or instructor should come along and discover the violation of the rules. The spread was held in an unused room, in the basement of the east barrack, and, though permission for it had been given, the officer in charge of the building was supposed to keep a sort of lookout over such affairs.

If one of the cadet officers discovered the beer and cigars he would hardly "squeal" on his comrades, but one of the academy staff would not be so lenient.

The fun became more and more noisy, and Dick was thinking of withdrawing, no matter if he did offend his host, when he was saved the trouble by something that happened.

A cadet officer, who was on night guard knocked on the door, and when there came a


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Rh hush to the merry-making, he whispered that Major Webster was approaching, and would almost certainly discover the breach of rules.

"Quick fellows, get this stuff out of the way, and then skip!" cried Glen, and the boys quickly hid the beer bottles, and threw away their cigars. Then, by opening the windows, the smoke was gotten rid of, and the cadets prepared to disperse.

"I say, Hamilton," began Glen, a bit thickly, as he walked alongside Dick, to his room, "you couldn't lend me twenty-five dollars; could you? I spent more on this racket than I intended, and I'm a bit short until I get my next allowance. I want to bet a little on the game to-morrow."

"I guess I can let you have it," said Dick good naturedly. "Come to my room, and I'll get it."

It was after ten o'clock, but as Dick had received permission to attend the spread, he had a permit to be out after taps. Paul, who had not been invited, was asleep when Dick and Glen entered.

"I say, Hamilton, you keep your room looking nice," said the "sport" as he looked around the neat apartment. "I'm always getting a mark at police inspection, for having something out of kilter. You and Drew are as neat as girls."

"Hush! Not so loud," cautioned Dick. "You'll wake Paul."

"Aw, what's the odds. He'll go to sleep again. It's early yet. Be a sport!"


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142 Glen was noisy from the beer which he had taken.

"Here is the money," said Dick, handing over some bills.

"Thanks, old chap. I'll see that you get it back all right."

"There's no hurry."

"All right; if I win, though, I'll pay you tomorrow. Do you think we'll lick Mooretown?"

"I hope so. But you'd better go to bed now."

"Me? Go to bed? Wha' for?"

"Well, it's getting late, and some one might come along. You'd better go."

"That's a' right. I'm goin'. You're a' right, Ham'ton. You're a' right. You're sport!"

And, rather unsteady on his legs, poor, foolish Glen went away, much to Dick's relief.

"I don't much care for friends, such as he is," thought Dick, as he got into bed.

In his generousness it never occurred to him that Glen had cultivated his acquaintance merely that he might borrow money from him.

Dick was awakened by the clear, sweet notes of the bugle sounding reveille. He and Paul jumped out of bed, and were soon in their uniforms. Then they got their room in order for police inspection, which, on some days, was made while they were at breakfast. This was one of those occasions.

"There, I guess they can't find any fault with that," observed Dick, as he and his roommate,


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Rh putting the finishing touches to their apartment, descended to form in line to march to the mess hall.

Dick was leaving the table, to attend chapel, when Cadet Captain Naylor, who was in charge of the police inspection, tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hamilton, report to Major Rockford," he said curtly.

"To Major Rockford? What for?"

"Room out of order."

"Room out of order?"

Dick knew that he and Paul had left their apartment in perfect trim.

But Captain Naylor did not answer, and Dick, with a heavy heart, started for the commandant's office. It was the first time he had been made to report for a breach of discipline of this sort.


text: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 17

title: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 17


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" are reported as not having your room in order, Hamilton," began Major Rockford, as Dick entered.

"I don't see how that can be, sir," replied Dick, saluting. "When Paul Drew and I left it for breakfast it was in order."

"Drew's side is yet, but your bureau is stated by Captain Naylor to be in great disorder."

"I—I left it in order, sir."

"Very well, we will go and take a look at it."

Accompanied by the commandant, Dick went to his apartment. To his surprise his neat bureau was in great disorder, the objects on it being scattered all about.

"Well?" asked Major Rockford.

"Some one—some one must have been in here, sir," said Dick.

"Ha! Do you wish to accuse any one?"

Dick went closer to his bureau. Something on it caught his eye. It was a note written in pencil. It read:


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Rh

Then Dick understood. Glen, suffering from the effects of his dissipation the night before, had called at the room after our hero and Paul had left to go to breakfast. In writing the note Glen had, probably unthinkingly, disarranged the things on Dick's bureau, where he wrote and left the missive. Then he had gone away, and, Captain Naylor, on police inspection, had seen the disorder, and reported Dick.

"Do you wish to accuse any one?" went on Major Rockford.

Dick thought rapidly. To tell the true circumstances, and show Glen's note, would mean that the facts of the spread would come out. Glen and his chums would be punished, and Dick might be censured. It would be better to accept the blame for having his room in disorder, rather than incur the displeasure of his comrades by being the means of informing on Glen.

So Dick answered:

"I—I guess I was mistaken, sir. I am sorry my room was out of order."

"So am I, Hamilton, for you have a good record. Still there have been several violations


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146 of late, among the cadets, and I must make an example. But, in view of your god conduct, and record I will not give you any demerits."

"Thank you, sir."

"Still, I must inflict some punishment. You will not be allowed to attend the football game this afternoon, but must remain in your room."

That was punishment indeed, for Dick felt that he would have a chance to play. Still, like a good soldier, he did not murmur. He concealed Glen's note in his hand, saluted the major and then, as chapel was over, he marched to his classroom, with a heavy heart.

"I wonder if that was part of a plot to get me into trouble," thought Dick, as he recalled what he had overheard Dutton say. "They're trying to force me to leave the academy. But I'll not go! I'll fight it out!"

He felt very lonesome as he had to retire to his room that afternoon, and heard the merry shouts of the football eleven, the substitutes, and the other cadets leaving for the final battle on the gridiron with Mooretown.

"How I wish I could go!" thought Dick. "I'm punished for something I didn't do. It isn't right. Still, perhaps Glen was so sick he didn't know what he was doing."

He had already sent Glen some more money, for he did not want to refuse one of the few favors that had been asked of him since coming to the academy.


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Rh As he was moping in his room, Toots came along, whistling "Three Cheers for the Red, White and Blue," and giving a succession of bugle calls.

"What? Not at the game, Mister Hamilton?" asked the jolly janitor.

"No; I'm a prisoner."

"That's nothing. Many a time I got out of the guard house. There's no one around now, and I won't look, nor squeal. You can easily slip out, and go to the game."

"No," said Dick, though the temptation was strong. "By the way, Toots, did you ever call to mind about this picture?" and he showed him the one of missing Bill Handlee, which was still on the mantle.

"No," replied Toots, again striving hard to remember about it. "It's clean gone from me, Mr. Hamilton. But, are you sure you don't want to escape? I can find some work to do at the other side of the barracks, if you want to go."

"No. I'll stay."

And stay Dick did, all that long afternoon. It was dusk when the players and the other cadets came back, and there was an ominous silence about their return.

"It doesn't sound as if they'd won," thought Dick. "If they did they're celebrating very quietly."

Paul Drew came in a little later.

"How about the game?" asked Dick eagerly.


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148 "We lost," said Paul. "We might have won, only Henderson, who had a chance to score a winning touchdown, couldn't run fast enough with the ball, and he was downed on the five-yard line, too late for another try to cross the Mooretown goal. I wish you had played. You'd have won the game for us."

"Oh, I guess not."

"Yes. you would. Captain Rutledge admitted as much."

"Well, maybe I'll get a chance next time."

"There won't be any next time this year. The game is over for the season, and Mooretown did us two contests out of three. It's too bad. The fellows are all cut up over it. Say. have you any idea who mussed up your bureau? Was it Dutton?"

"No, it wasn't Dutton," said Dick quietly, and that was all he could be induced to say about it.

Discipline, which had been somewhat relaxed during the football season, was now in force again, and the cadets found they were kept very busy with their studies and drills. Dick was standing well in his classes, but he made no more progress in gaining the friendship of the students, other than a few freshmen.

Even Glen showed no disposition to make much of Dick. He did not repay the money borrowed, on the plea that he was in debt quite heavily, and had lost much on the football game. Still he had the cheek to ask Dick for more, and when the


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Rh young millionaire properly refused Glen called him a "tight-wad." and sneered at him, making no pretense of retaining his friendship.

One night, following several spreads, to none of which was Dick invited. he wrote a rather discouraged letter to his gather, hinting that he wished he could attend some other school.

In due time there came an answer, part of which was as follows:

"You know the terms were that you were to remain at least a full term. Still, if you do not wish to, you have the choice of going to your Uncle Ezra. He will send you to a boarding school of his own selection. Let me know what you will do. I will not be able to get home by Christmas, as I expected, and you had better remain at the academy over the holidays. I know it will be lonesome for you, but it can't be helped."

"Go to a boarding school selected by Uncle Ezra," murmured Dick. "Never! I'll stay here a full term, even if no one but the teachers speak to me. I never could stand Uncle Ezra and Dankville. This is bad enough, but there are some bright spots in it. The sun never shines where Uncle Ezra is."

Yet the time was coming when Uncle Ezra was to do Dick a great favor, though he himself was not aware of it.


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150 So Dick sent word to his father that he would remain at Kentfield. Fall merged into winter, and overcoats were the order of the day at all out-door exercises. Much of the drilling and parading was omitted, and more study and recitation was indulged in. What maneuvers on horseback and afoot were held, took place mainly in the big riding hall or drill room, and they were not as atractiveattractive [sic] as when held out of doors.

"Well, are you going home for Christmas?" asked Paul, about a week before the holiday vacation.

"Guess not," replied Dick, somewhat gloomily. "Our house is shut up, and I don't care about spending Christmas at a hotel in Hamilton Corners."

"Come home with me."

"No, thank you. I was thinking of visiting some of my chums at home. I believe I'll do that. I'll be glad to see them again."

Dick knew he would be welcomed at the homes of any of his friends, and he planned to go to Hamilton Corners and surprise them.

But alas for his hopes! When the last day of school came, and the other cadets made hurried preparations to leave for home, poor Dick was taken with a heavy cold. The surgeon forbade him leaving his room, as the weather was cold and stormy, and our hero was forced to remain at Kentfield, in charge of the housekeeper and the


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Rh doctor, while the other cadets joyfully departed to happy firesides.

"Sorry to leave you, old chap," said Paul, sympathetically, "but my folks wouldn't know what to do if I didn't come home over the holidays."

"That's all right," said Dick, hoarsely, but as cheerfully as he could. "I'll see you after New Year's. Have a good time."

"I will. Hope you get better."

It was a gloomy Christmas for the young millionaire, and, as a fever set in with his cold, he couldn't even enjoy the good thinks [sic] which the kind housekeeper, under orders from Colonel Masterly, provided for the patient.

The academy was a very lonely place indeed, Christmas day, for all the officers and cadets had gone, leaving only the housekeeper, and some of the janitors, including Toots, in charge.

Dick received some tokens from abroad, sent by his father, and a cheery letter, which he answered in the same strain.

"But it isn't much like Christmas," thought Dick, as he sat up in bed. Then a bright thought came to him.

"Can't Toots have dinner up here with me?" he asked Mrs. Fitzpatrick.

"Of course he can," she said. "Maybe it will cheer you up," and she sent for the jolly janitor.


text: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 18

title: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 18


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Page:Life of Octavia Hill as told in her letters.djvu/617

, Lord, , Ad hoc election,

Alford, B. H.,, ,

Alfreston,

Amsterdam, ,

Antiquaries (Society of),, ,

Architecture, -

Arnold, Matthew, ,

Art,, , , , -, , , , -, , -, -6, -, -, , , , , , , , ,

Arthur (King), 158, 168

Artizans' Dwellings Bill, 264, 321-4, 337, 348, 438

Assisi, 364-7, 463

Association (Hall of), 24

(Tailors'), 23

Athens, 401-17, 419

Ayres, Alice, 506

, 284, 343-6

Barter (Miss), 467

letter to, 451

Barmouth, 533

Barnett, Canon, 258, 272, 281, 290, 297, 303, 305, 347, 369, 388, 417, 419, 492 letter to, 328-9. See Preface

Barrington, Russell, 299

Mrs., 506

Baumgartner, Miss, 156, 162, 164

letters to, 166, 167, 169, 172, 173, 174, 175, 229-230, 248

B——Court, 265, 268, 286, 310, 311, 320, 322, 326, 337, 339, 346, 350, 351, 352, 353, 367, 390-392, 393-4, 399, 413, 466, 470

Beethoven, 20

Ben Rhydding, 189, 269

Benson, Archbishop, 484, 498

Berlin, 441, 538 Bethnal Green, 449, 511-12

Bible, 20, 33, 64, 277, 409-410

Class, 32, 115

Bible Women, 171

Birthday, 62, 104, 169 Blind, concerts for, 223

Blyth, Wm., 393

letters to, 439, 554, 555

Mrs., 536

Boarding out, 324, 352

Bodichon, Madame, 182-3

Bond, Ed., 261, 297, 315, 327, 331, 338

Nigel, 575, 576

Booth, Chas., 515, 570

General, 505

Bosanquet (C. P. B.), 259, 260, 287, 311, 323

Botany, 80

Brandlehow. See Derwent Water

Brooke, Rev. Ingham, 491, 492

letters to, 513-14, 552

Mrs., letters to, 572

Brougham Hall, 196

Browning, Mrs., 97, 108-9, 146-7, 167, 179, 446

Robert, 7, 108-9, 240, 245, 246, 273-3, 288, 446, 500

Bryce, J., 465, 540

Bunhill Fields, 316, 338, 346, 350

Bunney, Mr., 175

Burglar, 16

Burne-Jones, E., 202, 522

Burnham Beeches, 396 Burns, John, 508, 565

Buttercups, 32, 333

Corps, 491, 518, 549, 552-3, 571-2

Carlyle, Thos., 144, 261, 312-13. See Cromwell

Carpenter, Rev. E., 314, 322


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 Feb. 2, 1834.]

I done what I could; I have taken all occasions to convince you of your sin and danger in neglecting this Blessed Sacrament, and to persuade you to a more frequent receiving of it; but I see nothing will do: indeed nothing can do it but the Almighty Power of, whom I therefore beseech of His Infinite Mercy to open men's eyes, that they may "see the things that belong to their everlasting peace, before they be hid from them." And then I am sure this Sacrament would be as much frequented, as it hath been hitherto neglected. But seeing He is usually pleased to do this great work by the Ministry of His Word, I shall make it my business at this time, in His name, to put you in mind of your duty and interest in this particular, and so set before you such reasons why you ought to take all opportunities of receiving the Mystical Body and Blood of your Saviour, as I hope by His blessing may prevail with many to do it:  grant that it may do so with all that hear me at this time.

For this purpose, therefore, I desire you to consider, First, that this is own Institution and Command. He, "who being in the form of, thought it no robbery to be equal with , and yet made Himself of no reputation for your sakes." He, who loved you so, as to give Himself for you,—He, who laid down His own life to redeem and save you,—He, the very night before He died for you, He then instituted this Holy Sacrament; and He then said to all that hoped to be saved by Him, and to you among others, "Do this in remembrance of Me;" and, "do this as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me." What? and will you that hope to be saved by Him, will you never do this at all? Or only now and then, when perhaps you have nothing else to do? How then can ye hope to be saved by Him? Do you think that He will


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 from Marseilles, with which R. was much pleased, and said it recalled all the scenery to him; and when she came to the part about the red sail, he told O. to remind him to show her a small Turner in the National Gallery which showed the wonderful beauty of a red sail. He asked if there were part of another letter he might hear, and anything about Florence. I brought Andy's to me, and while it was being read I turned my face away for fear of its telling too much, as I could hardly bear it; but when the thought of you both changed into joy, I lifted my face and met such a look of tenderness and sympathy. When the letter was finished, R. said to Mama, "How happy you must be in them all!" "Thank you. It is very beautiful."

Then he showed us the sketches. I don't think I shall ever forget them. I see them constantly at night when I shut my eyes. They have given me most beautiful visions of lovely scenery. One of the things which gave me the most pleasure was to hear R. talk about them with such perfect humility, condemning or praising them, just as if they had been another person's work, no false shame in admiring them, and entering with such hearty sympathy into our pleasure in them. Then came a quiet talk, which I think R. quite enjoyed. I felt as if we had come nearer to him than ever; as if he were opening something of his heart, and asking for help. He said once, "I do not say any of these things to make you sad, but because I think you may say something to make me happier." He was regretting that the colours of a sunset faded; and I said I thought the changefulness of nature was one of its greatest beauties. At first he agreed; and then he said, "No, it reminded him how all things must pass away." Then we had a very solemn talk about good being continued


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 save you, whether ye observe His commands or no? And which of all His commands can ye ever observe, if ye do not observe this, which is so plain, so easy, so useful, and so necessary for you? No, deceive not yourselves. He that came into the world, and died on purpose to save you, you may be confident would never have required you to do this, and as often as you do it, to remember Him, but that it is necessary for your salvation that ye do it, and that ye do it as often as ye can, in remembrance of Him. And if it had been necessary in no other, as it is in many respects, yet His very commanding it, makes it so to you, and to your salvation. For as He is the only "Author of eternal salvation," He is so only to "those who obey Him," (Heb. v. 9.); that is, "to those who observe all things whatsoever He hath commanded." (Matth. xxviii. 20.) But this is one of those things which He hath commanded; and therefore unless you do this, you do not obey Him, and so have no ground to expect salvation from Him. He Himself hath told you in effect, that He will not save you; in that He said, "Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." (Luke xiii. 3, 5.) But ye all know, that he who lives in any wilful and known sin, or in the wilful neglect of any known duty, he hath not yet repented, and turned to God, but is still in his natural estate, in a state of sin and damnation. And if he happens to do so, he must inevitably perish; there is no help in the world for it.

Wherefore, my brethren, ye had need look about you. your Saviour hath expressly commanded you often to receive the Sacrament of His Body and Blood in remembrance of Him. And therefore you, who never yet received it, have lived all this while in the wilful breach of a known Law, and by consequence in a wilful and known sin: and you who receive it but seldom, do not fully obey or come up to the Law, which plainly requires you to do it often; at least if it may be had. It is true, should in His Providence cast you upon a place where you could not receive it if ye would, I do not doubt but He would accept of your earnest desires of it, as well as if ye did receive it; and would make up the great losses you sustained in your spiritual estate for want of it, some other way. But blessed be His Great Name, this is not your case; for He in His good Providence hath so ordered it, that you live in a place where this Holy Sacrament is actually celebrated every  Day, and may be so, if there be occasion,


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 in another world, and the purpose of sorrow. I said that it was most comforting to me to look back, and see how things which had seemed so sad turned out as blessings. R. said, "It may be so with you good people; but if I look back it is to find blunders. To remember the past is like Purgatory." O. said that the past interpreted the present, and made her hopeful for the future. I think some of the things we said (especially what Mama said) may have made him happier. When he heard that his carriage had come, he said something about its being sad that evenings went so fast. Indeed he stayed long after his carriage had come, and when he was half down stairs, returned to look at O.'s pupils' drawings of his own accord, and said he was in no hurry if she had anything else to tell him. When we thanked him for coming, he said that he ought not to be thanked, as he had so much enjoyed himself.

December 19th, 1858.

Dear Ockey has had rather a disappointment lately about her work,—that is to say she has been awakened to the sense of its not being as accurate as she had hoped it was. She wrote to Ruskin to ask about his employing a young artist. He wrote back very kindly saying he could employ two or three girls, supposing they could copy accurately; but accuracy meant so much. "Even you are nothing near the mark yet, tho' the Claude foreground is a step in advance." Of course O. knew that the things she had done in water colour were very far from right; but she had thought that her pencil and pen work was very nearly so. In the same letter he said that he always had a chivalrous desire to help women, but he began


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 every day in the year. Our Church requires the first, and hath provided for the other, by ordering that the same Collect, Epistle, and Gospel which is appointed for the Sunday, shall serve all the week after; and by consequence the whole Communion Service, of which they are a part. And therefore, unless you receive it, and receive it often too, you will live in the gross neglect, if not in a plain contempt of command; as you will one day find to your shame and sorrow; for how well soever ye may otherwise live, this one sin is enough to ruin and destroy you for ever. "For," as St. James saith, "whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all." (James ii. 10.) And therefore, whatsoever else ye do, if ye do not this, but offend in this one point, you are liable to all the punishments that are threatened in the Law of. Neither is there any way to avoid them, except you repent, and turn from this as well as from all other sins.

And that ye may not think that the receiving of this Blessed Sacrament only now and then, as perhaps two or three times a year, will excuse you from the imputation of living in the neglect of command; I desire you to consider how the Apostles themselves and the Primitive Christians understood it. Which they sufficiently declared by their practice. For when our was gone to Heaven, and had, according to His promise, sent down the  upon His Apostles, and by that means brought into His Church about three thousand souls in one day, it is said of them, that "they continued stedfastly in the Apostles' doctrine and fellowship, and in breaking of bread, and in prayers," (Acts ii. 42.); and of all that believed, it is said, that "they, continuing daily with one accord in the Temple, and breaking bread from house to house, did eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart, (ii. 46.) Where we may observe, first, that by breaking of bread in the New Testament, is always meant the Administration of the  Supper. Secondly, this they are said to have done, , from house to house, as we translate it; or rather in the house, as the Syriac and Arabic versions have it, and as the phrase  is used by the Apostle himself, Rom. xvi. 5. 1 Cor. xvi. 19.; that is, they did it either in some private house where there was a Church, or more probably in some of the houses or chambers belonging to the Temple, where they daily


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 continued. Thirdly, as they continued daily in the Temple at the hours of prayer, to perform their solemn devotions there, so they daily received the Holy Sacrament, and ate this spiritual food "with gladness and singleness of heart." This being indeed the chief part of their devotions, whensoever they could meet together to perform them. Especially upon the  as the Himself informs us, saying, "And upon the first day of the week, when the disciples came together to break bread, Paul preached unto them, being ready to depart on the morrow," (Acts xx. 7.); where we see, they did not only break bread, or administer the Sacrament of our  Supper upon the first day of the week, which we, from St. John, call the  Day; but upon that day they came together for that end and purpose. It is true, St. Paul being to go away next day, he took that opportunity when they were met together for that end, to give them a Sermon. But that was not the end of their meeting together at that time. They did not come to hear a Sermon, though St. Paul himself was to preach, but they came together to administer and receive Mystical Body and Blood; which plainly shews, that this was the great work they did every  Day: and that they came together then on purpose to meet with, and to partake of Him at His own table. And seeing that the Law itself required, "that none should appear before the Lord empty, (Exod. xxiii. 15.); therefore St. Paul requires, that upon the first day of the week, when Christians thus met together to receive the Sacrament, "every one should lay by him in store, as God prospered him, for pious and charitable uses," (1 Cor. xvi. 2.) And hence proceeded that custom which is still continued in our Church, and ought to be so in all. That whensoever we appear before the at His own table, we, every one, according to his ability, offer up something to Him, of what He had bestowed upon us, as our acknowledgment of His bounty to us, in giving us whatsoever we have, and of His infinite mercy in giving Himself for us.

Now seeing the Apostles themselves, and such as they first converted and instructed in the faith of, usually received this Holy Sacrament every day in the week, and constantly upon the  Day; it cannot be doubted, but that they looked upon themselves as obliged by command to do so: and that when He said, "Do this, as often as ye do it, in remembrance of


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 trained a band of Southwark boys to play in the Hall. It was now proposed that the walls of the Hall should be decorated with representations of peaceful heroism; and Mrs. Russell Barrington enlisted Walter Crane's help in the matter, who most generously designed the pictures. The first of these was that of Alice Ayres the servant girl, represented in the act of rescuing children from a fire in Southwark. Her connection with the neighbourhood greatly interested the tenants.

In 1898, Octavia was much encouraged by the growth of appreciation felt for her work, which was shown by the presentation to her of her portrait painted by Sargent. A large number of friends had subscribed for this; and, at the presentation, Mr. Loch was the spokesman. Some of her words in answer will be quoted at the conclusion of this book. She was much touched by this proof of affection; and the large gathering of friends included those who had known and worked with her for years, and the descendants of others. But, important as were the developments in her work in the houses, perhaps the most notable of all the events of this period was connected with the Open Space movement. By the efforts of Sir Robert Hunter and other friends, "The National Trust for Preserving Places of Natural Beauty and of Historic Interest," was founded, which undertook to buy or accept from donors places described by the above title, and to care for and manage them for the people. And Canon Rawnsley became Hon. Secretary.

A special outcome of this movement, in which Octavia was much interested, ought to be particularly noticed; the acquision of places in the Lake district, secured partly on account of their beauty, and partly to provide access to the lakes, for the general public.

A different kind of open space, in a very different neighbourhood, was the "Postman's Park" a recreation ground secured near the General Post Office, where deeds of heroism are recorded by Watts, though without the addition of such pictures of the heroes as were painted in Red Cross Hall. This time saw the band of foreign imitators of Octavia's work


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advance along the corridor leading to Dick's room was announced by his rendering of the tune "The Star Spangled Banner," which he ended with a spirited bugle call.

"Did you send for me, Mr. Hamilton?" he asked as he came in.

"I did, Toots,' said Dick. "I thought maybe you would like to have dinner with me here. I'm lonesome, and I suppose you are, too."

"Bless your heart, not exactly lonesome, Mr. Hamilton, but I'm glad to come just the same. You see I'm too busy to be lonesome. I've got lots to do, cleaning up all the rooms against the cadets coming back in a couple of weeks."

"Then maybe you haven't time to spend an hour or so here."

"Oh, I reckon I have. But it's agin the regulations for me to eat here. I'm supposed to eat with the other servants."

"We'll make our own regulations for the time being," said Dick. "Here comes Mrs. Fitzpatrick


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Rh with the grub. I hope you're hungry, for I'm not particularly."

"Well, I can eat a bit," admitted Toots. "I say, though, that is a spread!" he exclaimed, as he saw the good things the housekeeper was bringing into Dick's room, where she set them on a table.

"Well, it's Christmas," observed Dick, "though I can't eat much myself. However, it'll do me good to see you put it away."

"And I can do that same," admitted Toots cheerfully.

Dick, under the doctor's orders was allowed only a bit of the white meat of the turkey, and none of the "stuffing," so he could not make a very substantial meal, but Toots ate enough for three.

"I don't suppose you got this sort of thing in the army," ventured Dick, wishing to have his odd friend talk somewhat of his experiences, for he had learned that Toots had once been janitor at a military post.

"No, indeed," replied Toots. "We did get a little extra at holiday times, but nothing like this."

"How did you come to be at the military post?" asked Dick.

"Blessed if I know. I was always a sort of a rover, and I suppose I wandered out west. I'm going to join the army some time. I'm a good shot, you know. Did you ever see me shoot?"

"Yes," replied Dick, trying not to smile, as he


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154 thought of how far Toots had come from hitting the target.

"Yes, I'm a good shot," went on the janitor. "But I'm going to improve. I'll practice on the range this winter at odd times. You're a pretty good shot yourself, ain't you?"

"Fair," admitted Dick, as he watched Toots put away the roast turkey and the "fixings."

"A-ker-choo!" suddenly sneezed Toots, pulling out his handkerchief. "Aker-choo-choo! Guess I put too much pepper on my potatoes," he said.

Something fell to the floor, as Toots pulled out his handkerchief. It lay in sight of Dick, who was propped up in bed.

"What's that?" he asked. "You dropped something."

The man picked it up, and Dick saw that it was a marksman's bronze medal.

"Let me see that," he said, quickly, and the janitor passed it over.

"Why this was given to some soldier, for good shooting," went on our hero, as he tried to decipher the name on it. "Where did you get it, Toots?"

"Blessed if I know, Mr. Hamilton. I've had it a long time. It was given to me by some friend, I expect. I found it the other day in my trunk. I'd forgotten I had it. But if it's a marksman's badge, I'm going to wear it. I'm a good shot."

Dick looked more closely at it. Besides the


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Rh name of some soldier the badge contained the name of the command to which he had belonged, but everything save the letters "mie, Wyo." were obliterated by dents and scratches.

A sudden thought came to Dick. It was in connection with Toot's half-recognition of the picture of missing Bill Handlee. It was evident that Toots knew something of the captain's son, but he could not straighten out the kink in his memory, and possibly this marksman's badge might be a clue. Dick hoped so, and he decided to try to learn from what fort or command the medal had been given.

"I wish you'd let me take this for a few days, Toots," he said. "I'll take good care of it."

"All right, Mr. Hamilton, but don't lose it. If it's what you say it is, I'm going to wear it, to show I'm a good shot. Then I won't have to be telling people all the while. They can see it for themselves."

"Can't you recollect where you got it?" asked Dick again.

Toots shook his head.

"It's like—like the time you asked me about his picture," he said, pointing to the photo on the mantle. "I get all sort of confused in my head. Maybe I always had it. Maybe someone gave it to me when I was janitor at the fort out west."

"What fort was that?"

"I've forgotten. It's a good while ago. But


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156 don't lose that medal, Mr. Hamilton. I'm going to wear it."

"Poor Toots," thought Dick. "All the medals in the world will never make you a good shot."

He put the badge carefully away, resolving to ask Major Webster, at the first opportunity, from what military post it was likely to have come.

Thanks to the jolly companionship of Toots, Christmas was not as gloomy as Dick had feared it would be. The dinner over the janitor left Dick to himself, and our hero fell into a refreshing sleep. When he awoke he felt much better, and the doctor said he could be out in a couple of days, if the weather moderated.

The first of the year dawned; a fine bracing day, and, as there was no biting wind, Dick was allowed to stroll about the campus a short time. This brought the color to his cheeks, and completed the cure begun by the surgeon's medicine.

"Well, things will be lively a week from tonight," said Toots one day, as he came in to make up Dick's room.

"Why?"

"The boys will be back then. Vacation will be over."

"I'm glad of it," commented Dick, and then, with pain in his heart, he wondered if the coming term would bring him more fellowship than had the preceeding one.

Major Webster was among the first of the instructors to arrive, in anticipation of the return


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Rh of the students, and to him Dick showed the medal.

"Why, yes; that's one given out years ago, at Fort Laramie, Wyoming," he said. "I can send it to a friend of mine for you, if you like. Possibly they may be able to trace the illegible name from the fort records."

"I wish you would," said Dick. "Maybe I can get a trace of Captain Handlee's son for him."

"I doubt it," replied the major, shaking his head. "I tried all the sources of information I knew, and it was useless. Still you may have better luck."

The medal was sent off, but, fearing nothing would come of it, Dick did not say anything to Captain Handlee about it, though he wrote to the veteran in answer to a letter the old soldier sent him.

The holiday vacation came to a close, and, one morning Dick awoke to a realization that, on that day, the cadets would come pouring back.

It was nearly noon when the first of them arrived. Among them was Paul Drew,

"Well, how are you, old chap?" he cried, rushing into Dick's room.

"Pretty good. How about you?"

"Oh, I had a dandy time, home. I almost hated to come back, but I wanted to see you, and then I know we'll have some sport this winter. Say, there are a lot of new fellows. We're not


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158 so fresh as we were. There are others. There's going to be hazing to-night, I understand. Thank fortune they won't bother me. I don't fancy cold water down my back on a winter night."

"Hazing, eh?" remarked Dick. And he wondered if his turn would come.


text: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 19

title: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 19


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the rest of that day cadets continued to arrive at Kentfield Academy, and there were lively scenes on the snow-covered campus, in the assembly auditoriums, students' rooms, and in the mess hall.

Several new cadets stood about, looking rather miserable, Dick thought, and he spoke to some of them, telling them where to report, and what to do, for he appreciated what it meant to be a stranger among a lot of lads who ignored newcomers, not because they were heartless so much as that they were thoughtless.

Dick rather hoped Dutton would not return, but that cadet was among the first he encountered as he strolled over the white campus.

Dutton nodded coolly, and Dick as coolly acknowledged the bow. Then Dutton saw a freshman standing near the saluting cannon. It was one of the unwritten rules of the school that none below the grade of sophomores might stand near the cannon.

"Here, fresh!" cried Dutton roughly, "stand away from that gun!"


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160 The lad, a small chap, did not seem to comprehend.

Dick put in a word.

"You can't stand near there until you're a second year," he told the lad. "It's a school rule, that's all."

"I say, Hamilton, I guess I can manage my own affairs," said Dutton, angrily. "You mind your own business; will you?"

"I guess I've got as much right to speak as you have," said Dick hotly. "I was only telling him what to do."

The freshman looked from one to the other. Quite a group had gathered by this time, attracted by Dutton's loud voice. The new lad moved a short distance away from the gun.

"Don't you know enough to mind when you're spoken to?" demanded Dutton, advancing toward him. "I'll teach you manners, you young cub! Why don't you salute when an officer speaks to you? Now get back," and, with that he gave the lad such a shove that he went over backward into a snow bank, made by shoveling the white crystals away from the gun.

"That's not right, Dutton!" exclaimed Dick.

"You mind your own affairs, or I'll do the same to you, Hamilton," retorted the bully.

"You'd better try it," said Dick quietly. "If you want to fight with me, you know what to do. Just lay a finger on me."

He took a step toward his enemy, and stood


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Rh waiting for him. But Dutton knew better than to attack Dick. He had felt the weight of his fists once, and he knew he had no chance in a fair fight.

So he strode away, muttering to the lad whom he had knocked down:

"You keep away from this gun, after this, fresh."

Dick did not think it wise to say anything further on the side of the mistreated one. Already he saw some unpleasant looks directed toward him by Dutton's friends, and he realized that by interfering in what was considered one of the rights of upper classmen, to assume a bullying attitude toward those in the lower grades, he was not adding to his popularity. I am glad to say that such characters as Dutton were in the small majority at Kentfield, and that though some of his cronies applauded his action in knocking the newcomer down, most of the lads were not in sympathy with the bully.

But there were so many things occurring, so many cadets arriving, some of whom wanted to change their apartments, to get new roommates, or be quartered in other sections of the barracks, that all was in seeming confusion.

Colonel Masterly and his aides, however, had matters well in hand, and by night, when the cadets lined up for the march to mess, affairs were in some sort of order.

"Do you want to make a shift, Paul?" asked


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 to think his old lady friends were right when they cautioned him against it, as he had found all his girl protegées, with the exception of Ockey, "very sufficiently troublesome." She met him the same day at Dulwich, and he was very kind; and if she can have a little bright weather, so as to get on with her Dulwich work, she will be in good spirits again, I think.

4, Russell Place, December 19th, 1858.

Now for Ruskin. Minnie has told you something about the evening; but nothing about the sketches. The first we saw was one of an old walled and fortified town in Switzerland, with little arched gateway guarded by towers and wall; the moat is dried up and filled up; long grass and buttercups grow there. Then he showed us a view of the cliffs which form the banks of Lake Lucerne; their tops are for the most part inaccessible, quite lonely, haunted only by the eagle. "Fancy, Octavia," Ruskin said, "walking up there, where one can get among chestnut glades, along winding paths, bringing you suddenly to the edge, and looking down on the blue water." He showed us two sketches of Morgarten. Then he showed us exquisite sketches of Bellinzona, where the three Forest Cantons had each a castle built on a high rock. He has done the whole thing in the loveliest way, making a kind of plan of the whole, and sketching large and carefully in colour each bit of it, even the little rows of leaves on a bank. But nothing can explain to you the sense of size and space and grandeur conveyed by the drawing of hundreds of pines, chestnuts and poplars, yet each seen as part