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Updated: May 17, 2025
"Greg must hear of this," muttered the new plebe. Going down the street at military stride, Cadet Prescott turned in at the north sally port, stepped briskly along one of the walks, bounded up the steps and in at the outer door of the subdivision in which he dwelt. Up the stairs with considerable speed went Cadet Prescott, still revolving in his mind the news upon which he had stumbled.
"But nothing else?" "I can read a bit more." "From the uniform?" he asked. I nodded. "You're a veritable Daniel," Courtney laughed. "What saith the writing or rather, what saith the uniform?" "It's very simple to those who read uniforms." "So!" said he. "I await the interpretation." "It's too easy," I retorted. "A Point Plebe could do it.
He got up with an alacrity that he did not feel, but which was the result of the new soldierly habit. Mr. Briggs threw on his campaign hat and a raincoat, but, by the time he was outside of the tent, Holmes was just disappearing under canvas up the company street. "I guess I'm in for it," muttered the plebe sheepishly, as he strode up the street.
Briggs was still grinning broadly as he remembered the roar with which Anstey had acknowledged the big splash. But of a sudden Mr. Briggs's grin faded like the mist, for Greg was at the doorway. "Mr. Briggs, your presence is desired at once at Mr. Furlong's tent." "Yes, sir," replied the plebe meekly.
"You may not want to box, but you can down Frank Merriwell just the same," declared the big plebe. A moment of silence followed Bascomb's distinctly-spoken words, and the eyes of nearly every one were turned on Merriwell, to whose face the hot color slowly mounted. "What's the matter with you, Bascomb?" he finally asked. "What do you want to draw me into this affair for?
“Well, for one thing, the cadets of the upper classes haze the plebe cadets a good deal.” “Humph! That’s fun for all but the plebes. Who are the plebes, anyway?” “The new cadets; the youngest class at the Academy,” Hal replied. “What do they do to the plebe?” Eph wanted to know. “I guess the only way you could find that out, Eph, would be to join the plebe class.”
"That's so, Briggsy," affirmed Greg. Before going off on their furlough both had been compelled to regard Briggs as an unfortunate plebe, with whom it was desirable to have as little to do as possible. Then it had been "Mr. Briggs"; now it was "Briggsy"; that much had the round little fellow gained by stepping up from the fourth class to the third.
"Now, I've just been talking with a young cit. fellow, who's visiting one of the officers on post," continued Anstey. "He tells me that, every year, some of the yearlings slyly waylay a plebe whenever they can catch him pacing on number three post late at night." "What do they do to him?" questioned Prescott. "Oh, they don't do a thing to him, I reckon," drawled the Virginian.
Singling out the little plebe, he took a station at the opposite side of the table, observing: "It is really too bad anybody should haze a pretty boy like him. Look at the tender blue in his eyes, and the delicate pink in his cheeks. Isn't he just too sweet to live! Oh, the fellows won't do a thing to him here not a thing!"
He is merely fifteen months on probation with his upper class comrades. Unhappy as the lot of the freshman is at some of our colleges, the plebe at West Point is of far less importance in the eyes of the upper classes. Early every morning cadet corporals marched squads of new plebes out into the open and put them through the mysteries of the Army "setting-up" drills.
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