West Point Colors

by Anna Bartlett Warner

Less picturesque, but more breathless in interest, was the cavalry drill on the plain and the grand charge.

In happy ignorance that surgeons and their attendants were in watchful waiting, the two girls found the whole thing just magnificent, and caught no hint of danger, even from other people's outcries. There was one lady in particular, handsome, well-dressed, and knowing everybody, whose son was in the drill, and whose fears were many and public. In the midst of the most harmless evolutions she was, as she phrased it, "on thorns"; and she danced about as if it were true.

Up on a seat to see better; down again that she might not see at all; with little cries and shrieks and groans of fright or expostulation—it was droll enough. Rose thought she would watch her when the charge really came,—and forgot her as July forgets December.

There had been a few minutes of seeming quiet, the squad all down by the library; but anyone who looked keenly could see this man examining his bridle, and that one tightening the girth. You could see them looking to their stirrups, or rising a little in the saddle to get a better seat. Then they began to move forward, slowly at first, then quicker, till the word was given:

"Charge!" and horses and men came tearing along like a Kansas cyclone upon the resounding road.

In some of the quieter moments before the charge, Rose and Violet had picked out two or three men they knew, noting their horses (they were not all dark then); and now, even in that dusty whirlwind, the grey and the black could be seen and followed. And—yes, certainly—Mr. Trueman's horse has leaped the Hotel fence, and the plucky rider puts him at it again, and comes bounding back. And Mr. Clinker's steed has swerved at the crossroad and gone dashing along towards Trophy Point, for freedom and Highland Falls. However, he missed in both, and everything came out right, and nobody was hurt; and the drill was pronounced in every way first-class. But for days after, when Violet shut her eyes, she seemed to see the flashing sabres, and hear again the ringing shout; and to watch that particular grey horse as he leaped the hedge.

Then came graduation; and Violet had the first sight of Mr. Trueman's diploma, as soon as he could step aside and show it. And Magnus was made first captain, and Mr. Bouché shone forth as adjutant; and even Mr. McLean found his arm adorned with three bright bars, to his own astonishment.

"All owing to Kin," he confided to the two sisters. "If he hadn't pinched me black and blue every day since Christmas, I should be on my way back to Kansas, to hoe potatoes for the rest of my life."

It may be said, in passing, that Mr. Trueman lingered at the post for a few days in "cits," and finally departed with a permit to show himself in the Western home, and plead his own cause there.

Mrs. Ironwood lingered, too, even longer, to let her charge have a taste of the pretty concerts and guard-mounting in camp; and then the girls packed their trunk, and saw the hills fade away in a mist that was all in their own eyes.