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"What?"

"Only juber, or a sailor's hornpipe." "Good! give us juber."

Smitth arose from the chair, bent over, and as Julian struck up, commenced patting with hands and feet; then carried away, perhaps, by virtue of reaction from the late gloom, or no less by the spirit that lurks in fid-❘ dles, our friend fell into a regular "break-down."

Redesdale threw down his poetry, and kept time with his own hands, saying it was equal to a plantation dance.

Their fun was rudely interrupted by a loud rap, as if with the butt of a musket, and in walked the sentinel. He brought his musket to a charge bayonet, and routed the party, fiddle, chairs, slates, blankets and all. After chasing the plebes about the room to his heart's content, he left them, with the injunction to keep silence during study hours, and triumphantly bore off the violin as spoils of war. But he quickly returned, and addressing Redesdale, the quietest of the culprits, said"What were you reading?” "Poetry, sir."

"Poetry-humph!"

ious to be in time, that they were an age too soon. Roll call over, in the grey dawn, they flew back to their rooms, drove through their toilet-over a tin washbasin-placed their seven-by-nines for inspection, and sunrise beheld the heroes at morning drill.

Glory at sunrise does not sit well on an empty stomach. But, beneath the plastic hand of the squadmarcher, who was moulding them into statues, Smitth bore up better than his two fellows. Redesdale felt all things blackening around him, and soon that young gentleman fell fainting to the ground. He was carried back to quarters, and Smitth cut breakfast to stay by him-which was very good of Smitth.

During that forenoon, Philip went to his first recitation. The plebes were divided into sections. The section with which he went, was composed of youths of all ages, sizes, apparel and breeding. Phil was one of the smallest. The Cadet who presided at the pedagogic desk, was himself a mere chit-scarcely turned sixteen-but smart of his years, forward in his class, and of first rate importance, in his own estimation.

It was quite laughable to behold the little fellow perched up there instructing the plebes-many of whom

Stepping on the piazza, he leaned over the balcony, were much older than, he, and some of them already and called

"Corporal of the guard-number three."

graduates of college. But he did it with all possible gravity and immeasurable unction. And yet the urchin

The corporal came. They confer together some time. made the mistake to suppose-indeed he was quite sure A knock at the door, and the corporal enters. -that out of West Point was nothing known. There

"Which young gentleman in this room was reading had he learned his little all, which to him was proof a book of poetry?"

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positive that the rest of the world was a sort of Nazareth, from whence came never a prophet. This sort of thing wears off, however, as do most things which cause men and boys to put on airs.

Yet, reader, laugh not too hastily at the little Sir Oracle, if, indeed, it be any fit subject for laughter. There were many minds there inferior to his, whom Sir Oracle could well instruct and did instruct—and Philip was one of them. Philip's arithmetical knowledge lay all in a chaotic state, in sharp, angular, broken frag

With the most serious air he took possession of the ments, in no wise regularly piled, but tumbled roughly contraband goods, and departed.

The loss of his book and the treachery of his friendthey were brought up together-equally harassed the young Virginian, while the capture of his dear fiddle completely overwhelmed Mr. Julian.

now.

But Smitth was ready to die with laughter. The two discomfited knights regarded him with haughty displeasure. Hitherto they had lowered themselves to an equality with Smitth. It was quite time to hold up, Again the old moody silence oppressed the room till tattoo beat, and the trio began to undress for bed. Redesdale, like a lad of spirit and independence, was not ashamed to kneel in the corner and say his prayers. But again Mayberry interrupted him. He came just before taps, with the lost volume and the lost violin. He had no time for advice this time. Taps was at hand.

Reveille awakened the plebes. Down they scrambled, making blankets fly, and clothes carefully made ready the night before, for the most hasty summons, were tossed on as they hurried down the stairways, so anx

into his mind at the Olympian district school. And as for his reading, spelling, and writing, they were more vigorous than correct, and caused some smiles in the section room at Smitth's expense-smiles that tiny Sir Oracle reproved severely with his eyes. And there were many who considered themselves quite above the trifling details of language and arithmetic, who can yet remember the sly touching-up they received at the hands of diminutive Sir Oracle, particularly on the score of proper pronunciation, or the unthought-of why and wherefore in so simple a thing as simple division.

So it need not be thought strange that Philip trembled already for his own Olympian vernacular, when he heard so accomplished a scholar as Redesdale himself corrected for calling there, thar, and where, whar; and the sprightly Julian, who boasted of having mastered Euclid, caught now in Division.

Small Sir Oracle did no small service to the section. He planted them, as it were, upon their legs. They paused over statements made beneath that critical eye,

and began to consider the reason for things, when he took nothing for granted. Seeing what they were to avoid, they thus began to go straight. He held up points, by which they, too, were taught to erect landmarks in their demonstrations. Philip saw, at once, how much more satisfactory knowledge is that comes to hand ship-shape-a fact, perhaps, too little heeded at many high seminaries in the land. And the brightest scholar of the Olympian district school went back to his quarters that day, quite a dunce in his own estimation. At his room Philip found a fresh comer, who, if tradition is to be believed, was a marvellous curiosity. From what corner of the world such a creature came, why he came, in the name of whom he came, would have puzzled you to tell. A great, gor-bellied, round-shouldered, ungainly creature, in blue bombazine coat, burnt brown pants, both a world too short, and green morocco slippers. He had the thickest of gristle for lips, the sharpest and longest of fangs for teeth, the dullest of holes for eyes. His hair, uncombed and dusty, was a mass of gunny bags. He looked at least thirty-five. He had a shocking bad hat. This last new cadet, Julian at once christened Colin Clout. Colin said he came from Tar River.

"In what State?"

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Hem, hem! Yes, sir, thar's such a man down thar. He keeps a saw-mill."

Mayberry, Redesdale, and Julian laughed. Colin and Philip wondered at what.

66 Possibly some connection."

"Hem, hem! sort of kin; he married my Cousin Mi randa."

Again, the three laughed, and the two wondered at what. But "old cadet" Mayberry began to feel dubious whether he was quizzing the monster, or being quizzed. Would you

"Those clothes--latest fashion, eh? lend them to a fellow to wear down to Benny's?" "Yes, sir! They were reckoned pretty peert clothes down whar I came from. I'll lend 'em, this minute."

He was already taking off his coat for the purpose. But, Mayberry thanked hin, laughing. He did not want them yet. He would come some night.

way, so far as he might.

Sometimes the pupil's pupil would grow furious at being required to explain things.

Smitth leaned over, in heart, towards Colin. He knew not why. Colin Clout may have been a schoolmaster at home, but he was certainly no scholar abroad. Philip had it in his power, perhaps, to show the stranger some kindness other than words. Philip's words were few. Colin manifested a rough way of jumping at correct conclusions, but his manner of "cyphering it out," "Hem!-North Car'lina-everybody knew that." much less of demonstrating, was still more uncouth, and It was suspected that he had come on in the place not so satisfactory. Smitth knew that would never of his son. Or, might he not have purloined his war-pass him, and set about instructing him in an unofficious rant from somebody else? Might he not have met the actual owner of the warrant in the forest somewhere, and slain him? No, sagacious reader-you should have seen Colin, a glance would have shown that he was too honest to steal, too good-natured to kill. But he owned up to having taught school. Possibly he came on in the place of one of his scholars. Possibly the good M.C. of Colin's district sent the warrant blank, for Colin to fill with the worthiest name in his school, M. C.'s are commonly so disinterested-and Colin had inserted his own name. No-Colin evidently was not versed in the stock exchange. Conjecture is wholly at loss to account for Colin's presence there with the war-friendless Colin Clout along with him. rant. But there he was, in the seven-by-nine, with three others, and scarcely room enough for Colin alone to stretch out on his blanket.

Mayberry comes in to see his plebe, Redesdale. Julian arose and introduced the distinguished stranger, as "Mr. Colin Clout, who lived next door to Fairy Land, on the Tar River." Mayberry is very much struck with his unique appearance, and falls into conversation with the distinguished stranger. The latter hemmed and hawed, and placed his hand upon his mouth when he spoke, as if it were the door of his heart-honest fellow-and he fain would lift the latch of it.

Mayberry inquired, "Do you chew?"

Colin hemmed twice, put one hand to his mouth, the other to his pocket, and drawing out an unbroken plug of genuine twist, offered the whole to Mayberry. He said nothing; the latch of his heart opened in a preferable way. Mayberry again inquires:

"Hem! plain as two and two make four. A man's a fool that can't see that!"

Then would Philip pat the monster gently, as it were, and kindly go over the explanation for him—a hundred times, if necessary.

It helped Philip. In leading the other to the root of things so often, he learned the way better himself.

The examination for admission came, and proved a double triumph to Smitth. He passed, and the poor

CHAPTER VII.

GOING INTO OAM P.

AFTER taps one night, Mayberry came for Colin's clothes. After drawing the sunburnt browns and the blue bombazine over his grey uniform, there seemed room enough to stow away half the corps of cadets, and to spare. The moon shone in at the window, showing Mayberry off before the eyes of the plebes in a ludicrous light. But when he topped off with Colin's hat, what a roar they burst into!

Their merriment, however, was stopped by a rap at the door, and in walked an inspecting officer. A tall, gaunt, copper-colored, old infantry Indian fighter, apparently. He held up the dark lantern usually carried

"Do you know a man down your way by the name by such ghastly visitors prowling about the cadet's bedof Caliban ?"

sides, at night, and the red glare lit up the faces of the

young gentlemen, one after another, except Mayberry's, who hid himself beneath the flap of Colin Clout's great uncouth cap.

The officer stepped up to him, and turned off the cap from his face, by which he held the lantern closely. "Mr. Mayberry!"

The youth had nothing to say.

"What are you doing here, sir?-disguised, too! Whose citizens' clothes are those you have on ?”

Even the possession of citizens' clothes was against the regulations.

The officer threw the light up and down the grotesque figure, which, shrinking from his gaze, turned away its face, and trembled. He could scarce control his risibilities at the sight, but stern duty, etc.

"Mr. Mayberry, you are well aware that visiting anywhere after taps is strictly prohibited, and most of all, in the new Cadets' quarters. Your example before these inexperienced youths is positively shocking— ahem! I've said it-positively shocking!

"Again I demand whose clothes are these?" Mayberry kept silence. The plebes lay on the floor, looking aghast over their blankets. The monster figure of Colin Clout began to heave uneasily, as Mayberry stood transfixed by the ray of that lantern, and standing mute.

"Gentlemen," spoke a figure with musket and belts, "I am sergeant of the guard. Does new Cadet Orson " -that was Colin's real name, my friends-"live here?" "O, hem-hem!" groaned beneath a blanket. "What?" repeated the polite sergeant.

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No," growled out Julian.

"Tell me all your names.' ""

"Redesdale, Smith, Clout, and myself Julian."

"Clout-Colin Clout! That'll do. He's the man. Rise, sir. Rise and dress yourself." The sergeant put the point of his bayonet in Colin's blanket and tossed it off, displaying his uncouth person sprawling on the floor. He seemed in no hurry to rise, till the sergeant touched him with the cold steel. Then Colin jumped up. He hem'd, and whimpered, and drew on his garments slowly and reluctantly. The sergeant served him with a gentle reminder of speed with a prick of his bayonet.

"Je-ru-sa-lem!" cried Colin, "I wish I had you down on Tar River!"

"But as you haven't, and as we have you here at West Point, to make a soldier of you-learn dispatch, and don't mind the scratch of a toasting iron. Come, sir, are you almost dressed ?"

And the gallant sergeant pricked Colin again.
The victim threw his eyes wistfully upon a chair, as

"Hem!" said Colin, putting his hand to his mouth- though he'd like to convert it into a pine knot for some "Don't tell." extraordinary purpose, then glanced woefully at the "Are these your clothes, sir?" said the inspector to armed sergeant and the two men at the open door, with poor Colin. their bayonets gleaming in the moonlight; then went on dressing.

"Hem! hem!"

"Mr. Clout," said the sergeant, when the prisoner had completed his hasty toilet, "It is my duty to

"Speak, sir! Are these your clothes?" thundered the copper-colored old infantry ghost. "Je-ru-sa-lem! yes!" cried Colin, sitting up in his blindfold you." bed, excitedly.

"Look a-here, stranger, down whar I live, folks don't come in at night, waking folks up-thar's the door!" "Consider yourself under arrest, sir-under arrest ahem! I've said it! You, too—Mr. Mayberry-go to your quarters, under arrest-ahem! I've said it!" Exit the old officer.

"That's old Eyes Right, the commandant of Cadets!" was the terrible announcement Mayberry made, with a wry face, as he pulled off the clothes.

"Whew! we are bound to catch it now."

And the corporal left the room. Philip, Redesdale, and Julian ready to die with laughter-Colin in a state of consternation. Our little friend was the first to check his mirth, and helped to soothe the great massy bulk agitated between its two blankets, at his side. It really seemed a serious matter to have addressed the commandant after such a fashion. Colin sprang up several times with a view to desert the place while it was yet night and be safe-plunge into the river or the mountains, and escape the dreaded punishment-dismissal-shooting-hanging-what not. But the three youngsters advised so strongly against so rash a manœuvre, that Colin remained.

A rude rap at the door, next sent a new shiver across him, especially as it was preceded by the regular heavy tramp of armed men on the balcony.

Colin grasped the chair nervously, then relaxed his hold. He was blindfolded. They led him out on the balcony, placed him between the files. "Escort, forward, march!" and three regular tramps blended into one, and one irregular shuffle of Colin's slippers echoed along the piazza, till the sounds died away.

Julian proposed at once to rise and follow, and see what was next to be done with Colin. But he was persuaded out of it by the two others, on the score of danger to himself—out of quarters after taps being proclaimed a heinous offence.

It was long ere either of the lads fell asleep-not till after a world of wondering surmises, each one condemned as unsatisfactory in solving this midnight problem. They knew not what time it was when Colin was brought back, waking them all from a feverish nap, but resolutely refusing to go beyond, "Hem! hem!" in reply to their eager inquiries, the latch string of his confidence being drawn in.

Colin said that it was nearly daybreak when he returned, on their questioning him next day; but obstinately persisted in his silence as to anything beside. Philip only, who sympathized with him, refrained from asking questions. All other plebes in the class, were vexing the unfortunate night and day. Colin felt Philip's silent sympathy, and was drawn nearer to him. He ardently wished to unbosom himself, but was kept

back by some powerful motive. He took a "powerful a question, or answer it-if you have politics, or no shine," as he expressed it, to the boy-was never far politics-if your hat is cocked up, or cocked down-do from him, and often the silent two might be seen, child you clean your old cadet patron's musket, or don't you; and giant, groping disconsolately about, seldom, if ever, no matter what you are-what you do-where you go speaking. Equally solicitous concerning each other-how you look; eyes right, or eyes left-you are and himself, to keep what they knew and felt, hidden devilled. The best way is, undoubtedly, to thrash the from the babbling world of youngsters. first man that looks at you-provided you don't get thrashed. They don't devil Colin Clout." "Don't!" echoed Philip.

At release from quarters, when the "old cadets" rushed through the sally port to the south side of South Barracks, to delight themselves at the expense of the plebes, Smitth had heard his name called repeatedly, by a most villainous, squeaking voice.

"Smitth! Smitth!"

But, on going towards the group of young gentlemen,

"No-do they?" Philip relapsed into his usual silence.

"I'd as soon have a mummy for a tent-mate! Smitth, go to the devil!"

Julian consoled himself on his violin. These two and asking who called, he was always met with a gene-roommates had been assigned to the same company, and ral shout, accompanied by the query: "Do you think yourself the only Smitth?"

The voice would come always from some one behind, who, on his turning to see, would vanish, or keep dumb.

"Smitth! Smitth! Smitth!" with a-tt, was one day heard, as usual. The next moment there was a yellColin Clout had discovered the varmint; rushed among the old cadets, and seized him with the grasp of a blacksmith's vice. Colin's eyes-oh, how they glared! He shook the cadet, as a polar bear would shake a young Greenlander. He boxed his ears, and shook him till the boy grew black and blue in the face.

became tent-mates. Redesdale had fallen elsewhere, and Colin in a still different division; for the corps of cadets was divided into four companies.

Yet Philip and Colin preserved their intimacy. Instead of going now to the gentleman spoken of by the fiddler, he went to Colin's tent; and the two sauntered down upon the rocky cliffs, to see General Scott depart on the steamer. They now were in grey uniform. Their drilling had begun to tell well upon them. Colin looked twenty-five, instead of thirty-five. A fondness for order and regularity began to develop. Philip's first perception of Art, was order. The lives of the cadets, in their manners, dressing in ranks, bar-marching to direct or fixed points, or wheeling in precise curves, together with the rules and habits observed in their tents-their clothing and bedding folded, and every article in its right place-produced among the young cadets a new-born zeal, a perfect epidemic for order; but that is a healthy fever.

"To the rescue, old cadets!" was shouted over racks. As soon as Colin heard this, he flung his victim away upon the grass, and looked wildly around him. "Je-ru-sa-lem!-who's skeered?" said he. Little Philip, Redesdale, and Julian, came to his side. All rolled up their coat sleeves, and a general fight was at hand. But the officer of the day came in, and spoilt the anticipated fun of thrashing the plebe class, en masse.

No doubt they would have done it for the old cadets were three to one, and possessed the grand moral of confidence: while the plebes had been browbeaten, and taken down in various ways, till there was scarce a whit of conceit left in them.

Next day, the whole body of cadets, old and new, marched into camp for the summer. Now commenced the grand sport of the season, "devilling plebes." If a devilled turkey could be alive and conscious, we doubt whether his sensations were worthy of comparison with those of a devilled plebe-such roasting! such basting!

Plebes on police, with broom and wheelbarrow there goes one general's, two governors', one senator's, and three poor men's sons, in one party, picking up chews of tobacco, which those youngsters, lolling in tents, toss in their way. Philip lived between the wheelbarrow and the guard-house, where he was thrown on the slightest pretence, real or fictitious. Redesdale and Julian fare scarcely better. Redesdale's friend, Mayberry, delights to "devil" his plebe-and Julian, like Philip and Colin, is now the better off for having no friend, whether pretended or not. No plebe escapes devilling, for the reason, that none before him ever did. "Whether," said Julian to Philip, "you step off or step on a sentinel's post-whether you refuse to answer

It is possible that out of order, beauty is born-or, at least, some dim perception of beauty; a very wee thing, struggling for existence, blind as a young animal, and groping for light. At any rate, for the first time, a sense of beauty stole upon Philip's soul, as he and Colin sat there on the Hudson Highlands. Yet, perhaps, his observations were not profound.

"Pretty fair!" quoth he.

"Hem! What!" asked his taciturn friend.
"The view," returned Philip.

"Hem! for those who like it."

"The still, shining river," said Philip, looking around to see they were quite alone, "makes me think of the old canal. The hills rising one upon another across yonder, and mingling away into the sky-I don't know what they do remind me of, but it's something. "Colin?" after a pause. "Hem! What, Philip ?"

"Isn't it queer how a thing will remind you of another thing you can never have seen before?" "Dream, perhaps. Hem!"

"That's what Nan used to say, and then at other times she'd say, on Sunday nights, as we lay together, talking, she'd say she believed it is something we've seen before in the sky-in heaven, perhaps."

"Hem! I guess so. I never could explain things. I never was peert. The children always stumped me

with their questions. I've an idea-hem!-that chil- | guard made this pretence to order Colin to walk slower. dren-hem-no, I haven't any idea."

"What?"

“Well, that children are men and women turned upside down, some way, as a man is when standing on his head, looking at the sky," said Colin, in an unusual burst of his confidence, tearing the latch-string all to pieces.

Then the two sat musing in silence till the band was heard, and the corps of cadets appeared after it, with the great revered general in their midst. At the wharf they formed two open ranks, facing towards each other, and the white-haired veteran passed between, with his hat off, leaning on the superintendent's arm. The steamer had just started, and was fast coming opposite the cliff on which they sat, when a voice behind them called

"Plebes, off limits! Fall in for the guard tent." They looked petulantly around-there was a patrol of the guard, ready to seize and bear them off.

Much as the two friends wished to wait till the boat passed, enabling them to obtain a nearer view of the general, their voice was not regarded, and accordingly they "fell in."

The ascent to camp was steep and rocky. Colin commenced marching fast; not to be outdone by a plebe, the guard quickened their pace, but Philip, unaccustomed to rocky hill-climbing, lagged behind, and the

The huge fellow seized little Phil around the waist, and strode easily up the toilsome steep, his companions puffing and perspiring well, at a half-run, too proud to find fault.

The party reached camp, appearing much as if the guard had been captured, instead of the prisoners, and dragged in, nolens volens, completely fagged out. The patrol was laughed at for their pains by the rest of the guard, and in their chagrin they resolved on having their revenge on the plebe yet. They could not detain him a prisoner long, because all this sort of deviltry is carried on unknown to the officers of the institution. So that, for roll calls, and other gatherings, the prisoners are released and turned back to their own tents.

It was to smoke the monster-Colin chewed-but said he did not smoke tobacco. The patrol and many others, among them, Mayberry, in the plot, gathered that night into his tent. Great, liberal-hearted fellow, he could refuse an enemy nothing-besides, it is a feather in your cap to have an old cadet visit your plebish tent. So Colin borrowed pipes and turned out tobacco freely, and the tent was soon filled with smoke. Philip was easily sickened, and begged to be let out. Their designs were not on him-he might go. They fastened the front of the tent together closely after him. (To be continued.)

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