The batch who heard this answer were ready to burst out laughing, especially when the officer who had asked the question, and who was rather deaf, said, “Tan ash and water—very good!”
An old officer, who was fond of a joke, was reported to have once asked the head cadet of the batch, “What would be the result, supposing an irresistible body came in contact with an immovable post on a plane?”
The cadet answered that the body would come to rest.
“No,” replied the officer; “you forget the body is irresistible, and therefore cannot come to rest.”
“It would carry away the post,” said the cadet. “No,” again said the officer; “the post is immovable.”
After a little hesitation the cadet said he didn’t know what would happen.
“Quite right, sir,” said the officer, “neither do I, nor any one else, for the conditions are impossible. I only wanted you to say, ‘I don’t know.’ Some men would have attempted long explanations.”
When the cadets had been publicly examined, the various prizes were given, and, after one or two speeches by the senior officers, the Academy broke up.
I started for London that afternoon by coach, which was one of about forty four-horse coaches that used then to pass over Shooter’s Hill every day en route from London to Dover, slept at a friend’s, and on the following day was carried by coach to the New Forest, and once more found myself in the quiet of home.
The change that had taken place in me during my first half-year at the Academy was very great. Instead of being a raw country boy I was now a somewhat experienced young man. The knocking about I had received at the Academy had forced me to use my perceptive powers in every way to save myself from being thrashed for neglect; and I had thus cultivated my observational faculties, so that I noticed far more than probably I ever should had I remained at home.