ee cadets, who were
seated in the room, simultaneously sprang to their feet and welcomed me
somewhat after this fashion:

"Well, sir, what do you mean by coming into this office in that manner,
sir? Get out of here, sir."

I walked out, followed by one of them, who, in a similar strain, ordered
me to button my coat, get my hands around--"fins" he said--heels
together, and head up.

"Now, sir," said he, leaving me, "when you are ready to come in, knock
at that door," emphasizing the word "knock."

The door was open. I knocked. He replied, "Come in." I went in. I took
my position in front of and facing him, my heels together, head up, the
palms of my hands to the front, and my little fingers on the seams of
my pantaloons, in which position we habitually carried them. After
correcting my position and making it sufficiently military to suit
himself, one of them, in a much milder tone, asked what I desired of
them. I told him I had been sent by the adjutant to report there. He
arose, and directing me to follow him, conducted me to the bath-rooms.
Having discharged the necessary duty there, I returned and was again put
in charge of the orderly, who carried me to the hospital. There I was
subjected to a rigid physical examination, which I "stood" with the
greatest ease. I was given a certificate of ability by the surgeon, and
by him sent again to the adjutant, who in turn sent me to the treasurer.
From him I returned alone to barracks.

The reception given to "plebes" upon reporting is often very much more
severe than that given me. Even members of my own class can testify to
this. This reception has, however, I think, been best described in an
anonymous work, where it is thus set forth:

"How dare you come into the presence of your superior officer in that
grossly careless and unmilitary manner? I'll have you imprisoned.
Stand, attention, sir!" (Even louder than before.)
"Heels-together-and-on-the-same-line, toes-equally-turned-out,
little-fingers-on-the-seams-of-your-pantaloons, button-your-coat,
draw-in-your-chin, throw-out-your-chest,
cast-your-eyes-fifteen-paces-to-the-front,
don't-let-me-see-you-wearing-standing-collars-again. Stand-steady, sir.
You've evidently mistaken your profession, sir. In any other service, or
at the seat of war, sir, you would have been shot, sir, without trial,
sir, for such conduct, sir."

The effect of such words can be easily imagined. A "plebe" will at once
recognize the necessity