"Oh, yes, Stanard! The Parson! Let's get him."
The idea took with a rush. It would be so much more fun to fool the learned Parson! And in a minute or two half the party, including the lord high chief quartermaster, was on its way back to barracks to hunt up the new victim, while the rest stayed to resuscitate Indian and to write out a list of questions for the "mental examination."
CHAPTER VII.
THE EXAMINATION OF THE PARSON.
The "examining board" had the good luck to come upon the Parson in a secluded spot near the Observatory. The Parson had left the library for a walk, his beloved Dana under his arm and the cyathophylloid coral in one of his pockets. The "committee" made a rush at him.
"Mr. Stanard?" inquired the lord high, etc.
Mr. Stanard bowed in his grave, serious way, his knees stiff, and his head bobbing in unison with his flying coat tails.
"Mr. Stanard, I have been sent by the Army Board to read the inclosed notice to you. Ahem!"
Mr. Stanard peered at the speaker. His mustache fooled the Parson, and the Parson bowed meekly.
Once more the cadet took out the official envelope and with a preliminary flourish and several "ahems!" began to read: