It was all stopped by the drum as has been mentioned; the company wheeled by fours and marched down the street, leaving the plebes to an hour of rest. But oh! those same yearlings were thinking. "Oh, won't we just soak 'em to-night!"
And, strange to say, the same thought was in the minds of seven particular plebes that stayed behind. For Mark had a plot by this time.
CHAPTER XXXI.
"FIRST NIGHT."
Dress parade leaves but a few moments for supper, with no chance for "deviling." But when the battalion marched back from that meal and broke ranks, when the dusk of evening was coming on to make an effective screen, then was the time, thought the cadets. And so thought the plebes, too, as they came up the road a few minutes later, trembling with anticipation, most of them, and looking very solemn and somber in their dusky fatigue uniforms.
"First night of plebe camp," says a well-known military writer, "is a thing not soon to be forgotten, even in these days when pitchy darkness no longer surrounds the pranks of the yearlings, and when official vigilance and protection have replaced what seemed to be tacit encouragement and consent.
"Then—some years ago—it was no uncommon thing for a new cadet to be dragged out—'yanked'—and slid around camp on his dust-covered blanket twenty times a night, dumped into Fort Clinton ditch, tossed in a tent fly, half smothered in the folds of his canvas home, ridden on a tent pole or in a rickety wheelbarrow, smoked out by some vile, slow-burning pyrotechnic compound, robbed of rest and sleep at the very least after he had been alternately drilled and worked all the livelong day."
In Mark's time the effort to put a stop to the abuses mentioned had just been begun. Army officers had been put on duty at night; gas lamps had been placed along the sentry posts—precautions which are doubled nowadays, and with the risk of expulsion added besides. They have done away with the worst forms of hazing if not with the spirit.
The yearlings "had it in" for our four friends of company A that evening. In fact, scarcely had the plebes scattered to their tents when that particular plebe hotel was surrounded. The cadets had it all arranged beforehand, just what was to happen, and they expected to have no end of fun about it.
"Parson Stanard" was to be serenaded first; the crowd meant to surround him and "invite" him to read some learned extracts from his beloved "Dana." The Parson was to recount some of the nobler deeds of Boston's heroes, including himself; he was to display his learning by answering questions on every conceivable subject; he was to define and spell a list of the most outlandish words in every language known to the angels.