I considered the permission granted, and hastily withdrew to take advantage of it.
Between breakfast and supper those of us who had been there at least a day had quite a pleasant time. We were not troubled with incessant inspections or otherwise. We either studied for examination or walked around the grounds. At or near seven o'clock, the time of retreat parade, we were formed near our barracks and inspected. Our ranks were opened and the cadet lieutenant inspected our clothing and appearance generally. A not infrequent occurrence on these occasions was:
"Well, mister, what did you shave with—a shoehorn?"
At this we would smile, when the lieutenant, sergeant, or corporal would jump at us and yell:
"Wipe that smile off your face, sir! What do you mean, sir, by laughing in ranks?"
If any one attempted to reply he was instantly silenced with—
"Well, sir, don't reply to me in ranks."
The inspection would be continued. Some one, unable to restrain himself—the whole affair was so ridiculous— would laugh right out in ranks. He was a doomed man.
"What do you mean, sir, by laughing in ranks, sir?"
Having been once directed not to reply in ranks, the poor "plebe" would stand mute.