When the students belonging to dormitory H had all assembled, they were formed in line by a sergeant, and marched two abreast down into the dining hall—a large room, in which there were spread a sufficient number of tables to accommodate all the boys at once. When Tom had been shown to the seat he was to occupy, he looked about him, and discovered that his mess-table was but a short distance from the one occupied by the officers. The lieutenant-colonel sat at the head of the table, the major on his right hand, the ranking captain on his left, and so on down to the foot. Tom thought that matters could not have been arranged to suit him better, for, after listening a moment, he found that, in spite of the clatter of knives and forks, and the conversation going on all around him, he could distinctly hear every word uttered by the lieutenant-colonel. The latter, little dreaming how closely he was watched, talked and laughed with the officers, but, to Tom’s disappointment and disgust, said not a single word against either the teachers or the academy. This was very discouraging, for Tom, having decided to be a colonel, wished to assume the honors as soon as possible.
At length there was a lull in the conversation, and the major, who had been closely examining his glass of milk, set it down before the colonel, saying:
“Smith, don’t you believe there’s water in that milk? Just see how blue it looks.”
The colonel took the glass, and holding it up to the light, slowly turned it about, and finally, set it down on the table again, Tom all the while closely watching his motions, and impatiently waiting for his reply. It came at length, and the new student almost jumped from his chair with delight.
“I know there is water in it,” said the colonel. “That milk-man is swindling us. Let’s catch him some day, and duck him in the harbor.”
“That would be unofficer-like conduct,” said the major, “and a court-martial would be the result.”
“O, hang your courts-martial,” said the colonel, who had engaged in so many that he was really tired of them. “I wish such a thing wasn’t known in this academy.”
Here the subject of the conversation was changed; but Tom, who had listened almost breathlessly to every word of it, had, he conceived, heard enough to warrant him in making an effort to dislodge the colonel from his high position. The officer had said that there was water in the milk, had proposed to duck the milk-man, and had exclaimed, “Hang your courts-martial!” and, if that was not speaking ill of the academy, Tom thought he would like to know what was. Improbable as it may seem, he was highly elated, and he fully expected that he would soon be occupying the chair at the head of the officers’ table. If he was foolish, he was but a type of a large class of boys—and men, too—who, upon equally insignificant grounds, have reared just such great expectations.
Tom was hungry when he sat down to the table, but that had all passed away now, for he had something better to occupy his mind. He resolved to seek the principal immediately, and lay the matter before him. So, pushing his chair back from the table, he was about to walk out of the room, when a sergeant, belonging to his company, exclaimed: