I was now certain there must be some distinguishing mark, but I could see none, and was much puzzled how I should again distinguish one from the other. A bugle again sounded, and I ascertained this was the warning-bugle for dinner-parade. Our division fell in in front of the building as before, the names of the cadets were called, and we were then marched into the inner square, where an officer came, and, having heard the cadets were all present, gave the word, “Right face! quick march!”
I was in the rear of the division, and dressed in plain clothes; my hat was what modern slang would term “a top hat,” and what in those days we called “a beaver.” This beaver I was rather proud of; it was only the second one I had possessed, a cap having previously done duty for the covering of my head. As I approached the dining-hall, a cadet who was a neux in my division whispered to me, “Look out for your hat!” Thinking that this meant that my hat might be spoilt if I let it rest on the floor instead of hanging it up, I said, “All right!” and marched on in the crowd of cadets, who now broke their ranks as they entered the portico leading to the hall.
Suddenly, and without any warning, a heavy blow was given on the top of my hat, which sent it down over my ears and eyes, and at once prevented me from seeing anything. As I raised my hands to force the hat up, half-a-dozen more blows were showered on my head with no light hand. I succeeded in pushing off my hat, the crown of which was knocked in, but could not see who had struck me—all the cadets looking much amused, but no one appearing to have been the guilty party.
Every cadet at once sat down at a table, there being about twenty tables in the hall; but, being uncertain where I ought to go, I stood in the middle of the hall, a mark for compressed balls of bread, a shower of which quickly rained around and on me.
The officer on duty, who had been detained outside to speak to a cadet, now came into the hall, and each cadet stood as rigid as a statue till the officer, calling to the senior cadet, said, “Say grace?”
The senior cadet in a loud voice shouted, “For what we’re going to receive may we all be thankful!” and the cadets then sat down.
I had remained standing all this time, and the officer, now remembering me, came up and said, “You take a seat at this squad.”
I sat down at the squad where there were four cadets on each side, and one old cadet at the head of the table; they were all strangers to me, and I looked all round the hall to find Fraser or the others of Mr Hostler’s who had come up for examination, but I could see none of them.
“Now then, sir,” said the head of the dinner-squad, “how much longer are you going to stare about before you peel the potatoes?”
I was surprised at this request, but the cadet opposite me pushed a plate of potatoes towards me that had been boiled with their jackets on, and signed to me that I was to peel these for the head of the squad. I commenced the operation, but was very clumsy at it, never having attempted such a performance before. I finished, however, after a fashion, and passed the plate up the table, and received in exchange a plate of meat which the cadet at the head of the table had cut for me.