"It is the pinch that shows what a man is," said Mrs. Gresham. "If you must run, run before the firing begins."
Magnus laughed.
"I'll remember," he said.
"But remember, too," said Mrs. Gresham, "that here as everywhere else: on the Hill Difficulty of West Point, no less than among the Delectable Mountains at home, you are to be a witness for Christ."
"Yes, ma'am—you would think so," said Magnus excitedly, "and so mother thinks. But how are you going to do anything here? Religion don't count, in this old camp."
"Religion may come in and stay, even where she is not fêted and caressed," said Mrs. Gresham.
"That is true enough," said the boy, colouring. "All the same, you can't guess, as I said, what a hard time she has. And now guard duty begins; and it'll be drill and walk post, walk post and drill, night and day. Your shoulders poked in, and your feet kicked out. Skinned if you don't skin somebody else, and nearly skinned actually if you do. Told forty things a day that you don't understand, and then given extra tours because you don't. That's what they say. Why, there are six hundred and sixty-eight separate regulations that we are supposed to keep!"
"Six hundred and sixty-eight!" said Mrs. Gresham. "Well, it must take a very lively imagination to 'suppose' that three hundred boys will keep six hundred and sixty-eight regulations."
"They know we can't do it," said Magnus hotly. "But we're bid to, all the same. And they punish us if we don't."
"Good-evening, Mrs. Gresham," said another voice, and Cadet Main (alias Mean) came up and shook hands. "What work of charity have you in tow now?"