You have all heard how the piper of Hamelin played the rats out, where none were seen before; and something like that happened now. The camp was for all useful purposes asleep. But as soon as the inspiring notes of "The Red, White, and Blue" broke up the stillness, there came a stir.
At quick step, and to a full-blast medley of national airs, the band passed through the camp; up A Company Street and down B Company Street; and as they went, out poured a chance-medley crowd to match. A crowd of plebs, wrapped in sheets, in blankets, in every sort of harum-scarum costume; with brooms for muskets, and the strict orders of upper classmen for regulations.
With all other cadet eyes peering through tent curtains to watch, the crazy throng came after the band in full procession. And even when the officer in charge woke up to the state of things, these agile boys kept out of the way; slipped through between tents to the next Company street, and then re-forming and marching on joyously, until, as the band came round to its starting point, and "Yankee Doodle" filled all the air, the queer contingent drew up in order before them, solemnly presented arms (alias broom-sticks) scattered, dived, and disappeared. And only the most sedate and orderly faces could be seen at roll-call.
That was great fun. Better than the Fourth of July dinner, Magnus declared.
The usual festivities graced the morning. The muster, and the march across the plain to the old trees before the library. The band played, Magnus read the "Declaration," and Mr. Bouché made a speech which proved him, in theory, a model patriot.
Then the midday salute of forty odd guns thundered out among the hills; returned by them in six times as many echoes; and the work of the day was done. Once upon a time, when powder was cheap, there used to be a salute at sunrise, too, and at sundown.
Magnus strolled away to one of his haunts by the river, and sat himself down to watch the tide come in. It was almost full flood; the water creeping silently up, hiding every mud-stained rock, floating off the drift from every corner. One could see how it picked up its freight of chips and sticks and sawdust; but the current was so strong, the water so bright, that the dark streaks hardly counted. In fact, Magnus enjoyed the whole process, finding fair images for himself.
"Just so," he thought, "would the June-tide set in, when:
"Whatever of life has ebbed away
Comes flooding back, with a ripply cheer,
Into every green inlet, and creek, and bay."
Bearing away then, of course, to parts unknown, all the disagreeables of life; studies, drills, and regulations. Wave motion giving place to Cherry. "It is so pleasant," said one of these pre-graduates to me, "to think of never again having to do anything I don't want to do!"