CHAPTER VI.
THE YEARLING.
When we marched into camp again at the old site, which was this year named “Camp Geo. H. Thomas,” the yearlings were perfectly happy. We enjoyed the society of the plebes for awhile, but soon tired of that. We had been under such a strain during the previous year that we needed a rest, and we had it, too, as there was not much required of us for the first month. We seemed to need sleep, and we slept in the morning, again in the afternoon and all night, too. After we were rested we loitered under the trees near the guard tents during guard-mounts and band practice and mingled among the numerous summer visitors at the Point; to get acquainted was not difficult, as some of the visitors had relatives or friends in the corps, and, moreover, people get acquainted easier at a resort or a dance than almost anywhere else. Some of the yearlings never missed a hop, and there were three of them a week, from 8 to 11 p. m. Others of us who were not proficient in the art took dancing lessons occasionally, but generally found our pleasure in boating and in being with the ladies, or with one another, listening to the music; in promenading on “Flirtation Walk,” or calling at the hotel. We idled away the whole summer, and it did us good, for, when we returned to barracks, we were ready for study again. I don’t want to be understood that we had nothing to do during camp, because many hours were spent at drill, at inspections and on guard, just enough to keep us active and healthy.
On pleasant days when not on duty we often strolled on “Flirtation Walk,” that beautiful path winding through the trees and rocks between the camp site and the river to watch passing steamers or to see the objects of interest along this walk. There are some links of a huge chain on “Trophy Point” between Professor’s Row and the hotel that was floated on logs across the Hudson during the Revolutionary War from Gee’s Point at the big bend of the river to Constitution Island[43] near the village of Cold Springs on the east side of the Hudson. We used to examine the place near the lighthouse on Gee’s Point, where one end of this chain was fastened and wonder what effect such an obstruction would be to the gunboats of to-day. At other times we would linger about Kosciuszco’s Monument, a little south of Gee’s Point, and quench our thirst at the same spring that this noble Pole drank from more than a century ago when he built Fort Clinton—that is, nearby on the plain—while at the same time General Putnam constructed the numerous other fortifications on the neighboring hills. Then we would visit Battery Knox, near Kosciuszco’s garden, to see the beautiful view down the Hudson that this work commands, or go to see still another handsome view up the Hudson from Trophy Point or Siege Battery at the north, or rather the west end of Flirtation Walk. Battery Knox, and Seacoast, Siege and Mortar batteries are of comparative recent origin and were built by the cadets. There are many monuments, aside from those in the little cemetery, that have been erected at salient points about the grounds to heroes who freely sacrificed their lives in the cause of freedom. Some of those brave men shed their blood to give birth to our republic, others to wrest territory from the Indians or from Mexico, and still others that our Union might live. Then there are cannon and other relics of war on Trophy Point and in the “museum” that are silent teachers for all who see them. The very air about this historic spot teaches love of country, and the cadets absorb much valuable information that is not taught in the section room.
Cadets who were popular with the ladies often used to pin the “spooney buttons” on their coats, and when a cadet gave his spooney button to a young lady this act was equivalent to saying that she was the favored one.
“The ladies—may Heaven bless their faces!
They come here in summer sweet,
Each being loaded with graces,
And all have cadets at their feet.”
Lieutenant K⸺g was a popular tactical officer and quite a ladies’ man. He liked music, and at band practice he often requested the leader to play “Shoo Fly,” and so often that the cadets noticed it, and called him “Shoo Fly,” not to his face, of course, but among ourselves. Clara G⸺e, a little six-year-old girl, was a frequent visitor at camp, and she was a great admirer of Cadet W⸺e. One day he was officer of the guard and I was corporal of the guard. During dress parade my post was near the first guard tent facing the battalion, and it was my duty to see that visitors kept back of a certain line. Little Clara was out to see the dress parade, and, as Cadet W⸺e was at the guard tents, she was near him. W⸺e called me, and then told little Clara just when and where to go and what to say. There were many visitors present that evening. I took my post, and in a few minutes Lieutenant K⸺g stepped a dozen or so yards in front of me and of the line of visitors preparatory to taking post as officer in charge of the parade. Just then little Clara ran out in front of the visitors’ line, and in a loud voice called: “Lieutenant K⸺g! Oh, Lieutenant K⸺g!” which, of course, attracted everybody’s attention, and then she said, “What do they all call you ‘Shoo Fly’ for?”