"That's what we want to find out," responded Mr. Trotter. "Now, then, misters, we warn you against approaching this noble sport in any spirit of levity! You are not to think that this work is for your own amusement, or for anyone else's. You must try yourselves out fairly and squarely. Our purpose is to find out which is the better oarsman, and also which rows with the more finish. Take your seats in your craft."
Dave and Dan seated themselves, with all possible gravity, in their respective wash basins.
"Up oars!" commanded Mr. Trotter.
As neither plebe knew just what was meant by this command they had to be shown how to sit holding their "oars" straight up in the air.
"Let fall!"
This time the two new men guessed fairly well. They went through the motions of allowing their toothpick oars to fall into row-locks.
"Now, at the outset, take your strokes from my count," directed
Mr. Trotter. "One, two three, four, five, six, seven—"
And so on. It was all ludicrously absurd, to see Dave and Dan bending to their tasks as seriously as though they were rowing real craft with actual oars.
One of the visiting plebes was stupid enough to giggle.
"Go over and stand by the window in arrest, mister," ordered Midshipman
Hayes. "You shall be tried later!"