"That's square; you'll have nothing to put in it."
"And I've got three confinements to serve out the first thing," said Crane, in front.
"All right—you went in for them," said Magnus, with a comfortable consciousness of his own clear score.
"Didn't; I went out."
So the talk went on, and Magnus sat vaguely listening, seldom joining in, his whole self reaching back towards that beloved region whither he could not go. He longed to have the talk stop, the train stop, the world stop—almost: anything, to change the pitiless rush and roar with which he was speeded away from all he loved best.—Mile after mile, hour after hour; till he felt ready to start up and cuff somebody, if only so he could make a change. They talk of homesick plebs, and those fellows have it hard enough; but I doubt if it compares with the mal de pays of the furlough men when they come back.
Cadet Kindred fought it, wrestled with it; then suddenly turned and began to fight himself. For was not this West Point life the very thing singled out just now for him? The surest, best, and quickest way in which he could win education, position, and the means to live? The shortest road to that fair home for Cherry which tinted even his dreams? Had it not been the Lord's appointment, far more than that which dated back to Congressman Ironwood? I do not think the ache died out, a bit; but the antagonism did. Ready for duty, ready for all that might come with duty; yes, that should be true of him. As clearly as to-morrow he would answer to his name at roll-call, so now in his heart Charlemagne Kindred said: "Yes, Lord, here!" What were they all praying for him at home? Not only, not chiefly, that he might win the honours; but that his daily life might be an honour to the cause of Christ.
The miles did not shorten after that; home still shone oh, how vividly! and shoulder-straps looked dim and hazy in the distance, and graduation but a myth; but the brave heart addressed itself to wait, and to work, and to endure.
The great city was reached, and trunks and men conveyed across to where the swift steamer lay taking in her living freight. The whole class, gathered now from all sides of the great country, mustered in "cits" for the last time.
As I think, it was a happy thing for these young schoolmen, that in the year of which I write, the "rush" was still in its glory; not yet found out to be unmilitary and dangerous. But now the first classman is supposed to forget that he ever was a boy.
For my part, I am glad to know this for a clear fallacy. No power on earth, not even time, can ever drive the mischief out of some men, or kill the frolic that lies hid behind those sober suits of grey. The most sedate bearing may belong to the plotter of the most consummate exploits; and the gravest men take your breath away telling what they have done. Ah, it is not the boy in them that needs watching, but the undisciplined man.