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Updated: June 20, 2025
Then all of them conquered the desire to laugh and returned to the inquest with added severity. The late questioner turned to one of his classmates, remarking scornfully: "Touge!" "Very touge, indeed" replied the one addressed. A "touge" plebe, in Naval Academy parlance, is one who is wholly "fresh."
Any fellow that thrashes Dave is almost certain to carry away a few mementos himself!" As soon as Henley and his seconds were seen to be approaching, Dave slipped off his blouse. Within five minutes after that both men were ready and faced each other. The word was given. "Now, Mr. Touge," warned Henley, "guard that striking face of yours!"
"Very touge, indeed," assented the other three youngsters. "Why did you bring out your handkerchief, mister?" "Just obeying orders," replied Dan, with another grin. "Wipe that grin off your face, sir! no, not with your handkerchief!" So Dalzell thrust the handkerchief away and applied his blouse sleeve to his face. "Stop that, mister! "Yes, sir," replied Dalzell meekly.
"Talk less and fight more, Mr. Touge!" warned the referee. "Very good, sir," Dave retorted. "But it's going to be hard on Mr. Henley." "Bah!" sneered Henley. "Woof!" The latter exclamation followed when Dave's fist cut Henley's lip a bit. But that indignity stirred the first class man to swifter, keener efforts.
Dan's first impulse was to grin, his second to laugh. Yet something in the tone and look of the last speaker made "touge" Dalzell feel that the simplest way out of difficulty would be for him to obey as carefully and speedily as he could. So, with a hurried "very good, sir," Dalzell turned in quest of his basin. He brought it, just about half full, for the inspection of his imperious visitor.
"Stop your talk, mister," commanded Midshipman Ferris, of the second class, who was present to officiate as referee. "On the field you talk with your hands. Don't be touge all the time, or you'll soon have a long fight calendar." "Very good, sir," nodded Dan, his manner suddenly most respectful as far as appearance went.
He failed to score heavily on the fourth class man, however; but, just before the call time for the first round Henley's nose stopped a blow from Darrin's fist, and first class blood began to flow. "Mr. Touge is a hard fighter," muttered the time-keeper to the referee, while the seconds attended their men. "We've plenty of fellows at Annapolis who can punish Darrin," replied Midshipman Bailey.
These two young misters are the tougest lot we've had to deal with. In fact, sir, they're ratey!" "Still," rejoined Dan Dalzell, "I think you are keeping it up pretty late in the year, even if they are ratey." A midshipman who is "ratey," as has been explained in an earlier volume, is a much greater offender than a midshipman who is merely touge.
"I hope you have your wish," murmured Conners. "What do you mean?" "Just what I said." "Do you think I'm going to have any trouble whatever about finishing up that touge youngster!" demanded Tread well sarcastically. "No; I don't imagine you will.
It doesn't sound exactly gallant." "Oh, well, you know," laughed Dave, "we poor, despised, no-account middies must have some sort of sincere language to talk after we get our masks off for the day. I suppose we like the privilege, for a few minutes in each day, of being fresh, like other young folks." "What is your name for 'fresh' down at Annapolis!" Belle wanted to know. "Touge."
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