Cadet Kindred stopped short and faced him.
"Yes," Mr. Wayne said, answering the look; "I know all about it. But the Lord said: 'He that gathereth not with me, scattereth'. And if you think it will be easier to take positive ground and begin positive work for Christ among a lot of strange officers at your first post, I think you are mistaken."
XLI
UP CROWNEST
Crowds of bees are giddy with clover,
Crowds of grasshoppers skip at our feet:
Crowds of larks in their matins hang over,
Thanking the Lord for a life so sweet. —Jean Ingelow.
If Cadet Kindred rose up next morning with the very spirit of the Crusades astir in his heart; ready to charge down upon the Saracens, lance in rest; he said to himself as the day went on, that if Mr. Wayne had ever been a West Point cadet, that gentleman would know some things he did not know now.
Here had Magnus been dreaming all night how he knocked a bumper out of Randolph's hand; how he had run Rig up to the first section in French; and how he had pitched Clinker back over the Commissary wall, just in time to prevent his being missed and "skinned." Also how he himself had been publicly thanked for these exploits by the Academic Board in full session. But, alas! "the stuff that dreams are made of" fades in the morning sun, and from these pleasing nocturnal visions Mr. Kindred passed to a particularly tough recitation, with corresponding low marks, and thence to the stubbornest horse in the hall, that would not take the hurdles, and made him instead take the tan. And now, as he sat in his room, tired and growly, the mail brought him nothing but a desperately perfumed pink note. Magnus said "Phew!" and moved to the window.
"Sent the whole shop, hasn't she?" said Rig. "That's Mrs. Newcomb, a mile off."
"Just listen, will you?" said Magnus. "She wants to give a picnic on Crownest, and tells me to bring men enough for five girls! How many apiece, do you suppose?"
"Unknown quantity; all depends on the girls. Who are they?"