of national life, while the band played "The Star
Spangled Banner" and all the men and boys among the spectators,
including several on-looking Army officers, uncovered their heads,
standing rigidly at attention. It was an awe-inspiring moment to
one who could feel the thrill of patriotism. This whole ceremony
of dress parade had about it the impressive solemnity of religious
worship.

There were yet some more formalities. Then the young men were
marched back. A few minutes after the sunset gun the men were
once more in their own company streets, and, for all cadets except
those of the guard, the work day was over. In the evening there
was to be a cadet hop at Cullom Hall, at which many of the
bright-faced girls who had watched dress parade would be present.
The evening after there would be a band concert in camp. So the
nights of the cadet summer were passed.

But the hops were not for the plebes. They could dance only in the
day time, under the watchful eyes of the dancing instructor, for
every plebe must take dancing lessons in summer until he has been
pronounced qualified. To a cadet hop, though there is no official
rule against it, no plebe ever presumes to go. Nor may he, for that
matter, mingle in the social life with the young lady visitors at the
post. He may try it, of course, but no well-informed girl will allow
a plebe to take the chances. If a plebe is caught actually paying
attention to any young woman the upper class men take care of
him in their own effective way. A plebe, like any other cadet, must
show courtesy to any woman who addresses him; beyond that the
young man must not go during his plebedom. "Flirtation Week" is
close by, but no plebe ever dares to stroll there.

This being the night of the hop, the upper class men were busy
with their toilets as soon as they returned from supper; or as many
of them were as had arranged to "drag a femme" to the hop. This is
cadet parlance for escorting a young lady to the dance. However,
some upper class men notoriously avoid attending hops.

"It's a fine thing, isn't it," growled Greg that evening, "to take a
lot of dancing lessons every week, and then, when the night comes
around, to stroll through the company streets and listen to the
orchestra in the distance."

"I'm not complaining," Dick replied.

"Yet you used to be fond of dancing."

"I am now."

"Then why don't you yearn to go to a hop?"

"I do. But see here, Greg. The fellow makes the bes