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They tell tales among themselves of the life of a middie and the fun of the "fo-castle," and watch the waves leaping up over the pier-head with a wild longing to sing 'Rule Britannia. Every ship in the offing is a living thing to them, and the appearance of a man-of-war sends them sleepless to bed.
"Why, it's Jetson! Well, he has one accomplishment that I really envy him!" Midshipman Jetson was now going through some rapid evolutions, first hanging head downward, and then, after developing speed, raising himself and turning over the crossbar. It was really work of which any athlete might have been proud. "Say, Jim," muttered one attendant to the other, "that middie has me nervous for fair."
When I look at the Pump pasture now, in afternoon like this, or in Spring with vi'lets, or when a circus show's there, it don't seem to me it could 'a' been the same place. I kep' 'em together the best I could some of 'em beggin' for 'Mr. Middie Mr. Middie, the man, I judged, that was dead.
But as fast as their blue little hands was warm an' pink again, one or two of 'em begun to whimper, natural an' human, an' up with their arm to their face, an' then begun to cry right out, an' some more joined in, an' the rest pipes up, askin' for Mr. Middie. An' I thought, 'Sp'osin' they all cried an' what if Abel Halsey stayed away hours. I donno. I done my best too.
"Who did that?" demanded Frank again. The big French middie who had tripped the lad stepped forward. "I did it," he replied, thrusting out his face. "What of it?" "Just this," replied Frank, and started forward. Jack stopped him. "Here's where I get into this," he said quietly. "I tried to keep out, but it's no use. Stand aside, Frank, can't you see you are no match for him."
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