D UKE UNIVERSIT Y 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
i^DDRESS, ESSAY. 
 
 THE HOWITZER 
 
 /J 
 
 Hundredth NiAt EntertainiDent 
 
 GIVEN BY THE 
 
 CORPS OF CADETS, U. S. M. A 
 
 xu February 23, 1884,^s^ 
 
 MANCHESTER, 
 
 JOHN B. CLARKE, 
 
 18S4. 
 
 N. H.: 
 
 PRINTER. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Programme ......... 5 
 
 Opening Address 8 
 
 Essay 12 
 
 The Howitzer 17 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2015 
 
 .https://archive.org/details/addressessayhowi01hale 
 
PLAN OF OPENING BATTLE 
 
 OP THE 
 
 HUNDRED DAYS' CAMPAIGN. 
 
 WATCHWORD : 
 
 "One Hundred Days to June." 
 
Hdqrs. Council of War, 
 West Point, N. Y., February 23, 1884. 
 
 GrENERAL OrDERS ) 
 
 No. 1. j 
 
 It is believed that tbe enemy will be found en masse in tbe 
 Cadet Mess Hall this evening. The following detailed plan of 
 attack will be observed : — 
 
 I. — The U. S. M. A. Band will be posted in a commanding 
 position on the left, and will open the action at 7.30 p. m., by a 
 simultaneous fire from all the pieces. 
 
 II. — Marshal Hale will throw forward a line of skirmishers 
 to ascertain the strength and disposition of the enemy's forces, but 
 will, under no circumstances, allow himself to be drawn into a 
 prolonged engagement. 
 
 III. — Commodore Noble will send a gunboat, under the com- 
 mand of Captain Russ^ to proceed up the river (with guns firing and 
 bands playing " The Tar's Farewell") with a view to diverting the 
 attention of the enemy's right. 
 
 lY. — When this is accomplished, Greneral Simpson will make 
 a direct attack on the enemy's center, will push forward in spite of 
 the storms of applause from the enemy's line, and will break through 
 the center and attack the left in flank and rear. 
 
 Y. — The Light Batteries under Colonels Thayer and Walton 
 will keep up a lively fire along the whole line. 
 
 YI. — The Heavy Battery under Major Chittenden will pour 
 in a hot fire of solid shot and shell on the redoubt, on the enemy's 
 left, and will not cease its fire until their batteries are completely 
 silenced. 
 
 YII. — The Reserve will now be brought up, and if necessary 
 all those in the Hospital capable of bearing arms will take their 
 places in the ranks. 
 
 YIII. — The U. S. M. A. Band will now redouble its fire on 
 the enemy's right, to prevent its effecting a juncture with the left, 
 against which the main attack will be directed. 
 
7 
 
 IX. — The Howitzer, in cliarge of G-nnner Gillette, will be 
 unlimbered and prepared for action. The enemy's line of retreat 
 having been cut off by Sanford's Cavalry, accompanied by ClarUe s 
 Engineer troops, who will destroy all bridges and other means of 
 escape, the Howitzer will open fire. Grunner Gillette is particularly 
 cautioned not to be deceived by any apparent exhibition of weak- 
 ness on the part of the enemy, but to continue the fire until the 
 ammunition is exhausted. 
 
 X. — The enemy being completely demoralized. Trumpeter 
 Ramsey will sound the recall. 
 
 XI. — The troops will assemble as before the battle, the lines 
 will be carefully inspected by their respective commanders, and those 
 who have not fired their pieces will be reported. To complete the 
 victory and sweep the enemy from the field, the whole command 
 will move forward at double time, colors flying, bands playing, and 
 troops shouting the watchword, — One Hundred Days to June! 
 
 By order, 
 
 FALL OUT, 
 
 Best! 
 
ADDRESS BY IRVING HALE. '84. 
 
 Ladies and Gentlemen : — 
 
 We ask you to congratulate us this evening on having reached 
 this landmark in our cadet existence. Landmarks are always inter- 
 esting, always pleasant, especially when we are tired. To be sure, 
 they do not make the road shorter, or its hills less steep, or its rocky 
 places less hard, or the burden less heavy ; but we know it to be a 
 fact that when the weary pilgrim reaches some well-known landmark 
 that tells him just how far he has journeyed, and just how far he 
 is from home and friends, he takes great satisfaction in looking back 
 over the long, dusty road he has traveled, with all its obstacles that 
 he has overcome, and feeling that he has surmounted them and that 
 they are things of the past ; and then, blinding himself half uncon- 
 sciously and half intentionally to the difficulties that are still ahead 
 of him, he feels an exquisite pleasure in looking ahead, over and 
 beyond those difficulties, to the welcome that is awaiting him at the 
 end of his journey. 
 
 With us, landmarks are especially interesting, partly, perhaps, 
 because they are so scarce, partly because there is such a crying need 
 of something to make our lives more joyous. So, when we reach an 
 epoch like the present, when we can look back over the road we 
 have traveled, winding along over " warped surfaces " and " equipo- 
 tential surfaces," around precipices with " momental ellipsoids" in a 
 state of " unstable equilibrium " toppling over us, and avalanches of 
 rolling cones " threatening to sweep us to destruction, over torrents 
 the equations of whose flow must be deduced before they can be 
 crossed, through dry, barren deserts of " interpolated sheets," 
 through gloomy forests in whose leaves the winds, moving, of course, 
 "in left spirals closing inwards, and right spirals opening outwards," 
 whistle and seem to whisper at every breath, "atomicity" and 
 
9 
 
 "quantivalence." "jurisdiction of federal courts" and "Unification of 
 Italy, " enjoying now and then a pleasant little digression on the 
 action of heat on airs.'" but always coming back into the hard, dusty 
 road more tired than when we left it, — when we look back at all 
 these things, we feel a grim satisfaction in saying, "We have con- 
 c^uered you, and we are through with you for eyer."' And then for- 
 getting, for the moment, that there are difficulties still ahead of us^ 
 that there are enemies lying in wait for us in positions of their own 
 choosing, and behind fortifications that they have been years in 
 building and strengthening : surrounded by obstacles of every 
 description to bar our progress, entanglements of •■' stretched strings," 
 palisades of "tuning forks," abatis of "' Iialysitida3 and Cyatlioph- 
 aloids," "glacis planes" and "planes of polarization" and "'any 
 plane whatever," frowning batteries of "open organ pipes " loaded 
 with 1.5's and destruction. cavaliers." "' caponnieres." "teuailles," 
 and " ramps," — forgetful of all these, it is pleasant to let our 
 thoughts wander to the future and to dream of yearling camp and 
 chevrons, and the class of '83 : of furlough with all its joys, which 
 will surpass your brightest dreams: of first-class camp, with its hops 
 and hand-spikes, and fair faces and blistered faces, and true-lovers' 
 knots, and " clove hitches," and walks and " balks," and all its 
 pleasures which must be experienced to be appreciated ; of shoulder- 
 straps and one-company-posts and longevity pay. and more directly 
 of the last ride, the last parade, the " good-bye boys," of welcome 
 and home and rest. But . perhaps we are too much given to 
 thoughts like these. We meditate too much on the difficulties of 
 our cadet life, and do not properly appreciate its benefits. While I 
 hardly think that any one of us will ever look back on his career at 
 West Point with any craving desire to try it over again, yet I do 
 firmly believe that the most of us. in after life, will look back at the 
 four years we spent at this academy as the best four years of our 
 lives ; the four years in which we did the most hard, honest, con- 
 tinuous work : the four years that did the most towards training our 
 faculties and molding otir characters, and making us what we are 
 to be for life. 
 
 When we consider the object for which this instittition was 
 founded, the principles on which it is conducted, and the service 
 that its graduates are expected to render the country, we must be 
 
10 
 
 impressed with the idea that of all educational institutions this insti- 
 tution ought to turn out men. If it does not enjoy this reputation, 
 it is a duty that every cadet and every graduate owes to himself, his 
 friends, his alma mater ^ the army, and the nation, to so conduct him- 
 self as to earn for it that reputation before the people of the coun- 
 try ; if it does enjoy and deserve that reputation, it is the duty of 
 every cadet and graduate to demonstrate it. 
 
 Members of the class of '87, you can demonstrate it by the way 
 you treat the "plebes" next summer. It is not necessary to pre- 
 scribe a detailed mode of treatment, but if you treat them as men 
 should treat each other, if your object in every thing you do is to 
 change them from boj^s into men, and if, when their first camp is 
 over and they have had a little time to recuperate, they look upon 
 you as a class of men, you cannot have gone far wrong. 
 
 Members of the Furlough Class, you will have a thousand oppor- 
 tunities to demonstrate it on furlough, when your friends will look 
 upon you with critical though kindly eyes, to see what changes the 
 past two years have wrought. 
 
 Members of the coming first class, you can demonstrate it by the 
 way you bear your authority next year, by the standard of honor 
 that you set up for the classes below you, and by the manner in 
 which you perpetuate the state of cordial good feeling that now exists 
 in the corps. 
 
 But more, perhaps, than all, to the graduates of the academy be- 
 longs the duty of demonstrating this truth, if truth it is. Whether 
 in the society of a metropolis or around the camp-fire on a western 
 Indian trail, in peace or in war, in the army or out of it, or wher- 
 ever they may be, it is their duty to demonstate it by their fearless- 
 ness, dignity, honor, and integrity. 
 
 And if it can be said of this or any other institution, that it turns 
 out men, — men in their physical capacity to do and to endure, men 
 in the depth and grasping power of their intellects, men with minds 
 which, whether crammed with facts or not, have their faculties so 
 trained and under control that they can grapple with any subject 
 that presents itself ; men who can choose the right, and, having 
 chosen, have the stamina to maintain it, cost what it may ; men with 
 manly ambitions to do something more than sit still and wait for 
 promotion, and rust, — if it can be said of any institution that it turns 
 
11 
 
 out men in tlie liigliest sense of tlie word, no better praise can be 
 bestowed. 
 
 But all tliis has nothing to do with the fact that we are here to 
 demonstrate to-night, — the fact that it is only one hundred days to 
 June. 
 
 We make no apology for this entertainment, for you who know 
 West Point know that we have no time for such things, and you 
 who do not know it now, will find it out before the eyening is over. 
 All we ask is, if any of you came with an idea of being edified, give 
 it up ; if any of you came with an intention to criticise, don't. We 
 simply ask that you prepare yourselves for a couple of hours of 
 nonsense and jollity in celebration of the glorious truth that it's 
 only one hundred — only ninety -eight days to June. 
 
ESSAY BY H. M. CHITTENDEN, '84. 
 
 "PERSONAL EQUATIONS." 
 
 It is not expected that the subject of this essay will excite any 
 particular curiosity. In fact, there is no more certain proof that a 
 book or an essay will not be read than to have the word equation 
 appear in its title. This remark, it is true, has a peculiar application 
 to this audience which it would probably not have to any other ; at 
 least it is to be hoped that no one who is not or has not been a cadet 
 can possibly feel the aversion for this little word that a cadet generally 
 does feel. And this aversion is not without cause. The cadet, as a 
 rule, is not actuated by any craving desire for work to do. He, in 
 common with many other people, regards it as an alloy in the pleas- 
 ures of life which, in no small degree, diminishes their value. In 
 his whole course of study at the academy, there is no one word more 
 expressive of the continuous work to which he is held than this 
 word equation. To begin with, in that study which, as is well 
 known, is not pursued for pleasure's sake alone, it is his principal 
 enemy. It starts up before him on every occasion. He finds it 
 concealed in every line or surface or other thing which mathematical 
 genius can devise ; and to rid himself of it, he looks to his furlough 
 with a longing second only to that with which he will at a later date 
 look to his graduation. 
 
 That furlough comes ; and, in the oblivion of its pleasures, he 
 hopes to bury not only all memory of but all future connection with 
 this enemy of his past two years. It is needless to state that, in 
 this respect, he is doomed to disappointment. The happy days of 
 that vacation glide by. He returns and resumes his work with a 
 feeling of dejection which no one but a furloughman can appreciate; 
 and before a month has passed over his head, in the very midst of 
 
13 
 
 his homesickness, lie is astounded, frightened, enraged, at the unex- 
 pected encounter with that jumble of letters which the book calls 
 " Equation A." 
 
 And this is more than any ordinary equation. The philosopher 
 says that it includes every thing ; that it involves not only all physi- 
 cal actions, but even individual happiness and prosperity. 
 
 This last statement, by the way, is, to many cadets, quite irrec- 
 oncilable with the life and death sti-uggle with that equation to see 
 which will come out ahead in the following January examination. 
 
 Yes, the philosopher enlarges on the hidden treasures of this 
 equation. He really succeeds in exciting an interest in the cadet, 
 who. for the time being, begins to feel that he holds at last the key 
 to the problem of life ; that all he has to do is to apply Equation A 
 to his difficulties and they will disappear. 
 
 But. in the midst of this transient enthusiasm, the philosopher 
 interposes that condition, so often fatal to anticipated pleasure, that 
 other word, no less repulsive than the word equation^ — if. All 
 these things Equation A would do. '•{/'we could integrate it.'' But 
 we cannot. Thus the cadet, like Tantalus of old, sees almost within 
 his grasp the fruit of so much valuable knowledge, but is never per- 
 mitted to taste it : and Equation A soon becomes the unique symbol 
 of what might be, but never is. 
 
 Surely there is abundant cause for the aversion which cadets feel 
 for this word, and no doubt I ought to apologize to them for inflict- 
 ing the sound of it upon their ears to-night. 
 
 But I had started to say something of '-personal equations.'" and 
 the subject was suggested by the inquiry. What parallel can be 
 drawn between our course of stud}' here and the course which is 
 to begin on that day in anticipation of which this meeting is held 
 to-night ? 
 
 We all of us — cadets, I mean — must by this time be convinced 
 that there is not a line or path or other thing in nature which has not 
 its equation ;. and hence it would seem reasonable that that path which 
 we figuratively call the " path of life '" should have its equation also. 
 This, I imagine, is the only one most of us will ever have to de- 
 duce ; but this one we shall, and. unwittingly or not. every action 
 of our lives will be a step in that deduction. As we pass along that 
 axis which shall number the successive years of our lives, and meas- 
 
14 
 
 ure off from it the acliievements which shall mark those years, what, 
 then, will this path represent ? The answer to this question each of 
 us can give only when the deduction is complete ; but what the' 
 character of that path should be each can answer now. 
 
 We are not, as in the section-room, tied down to certain given 
 conditions which our equations must fulfill, but it rests entirely in 
 our own hands to impose such conditions as we choose. Upon that 
 choice will rest the character of our lives. Let us inquire what 
 some of these conditions should be. 
 
 To the soldier, the prime virtue of his profession is honor ; honor 
 in every action, minute or great ; fidelity to his duty, his officers, 
 and his country. He early learns that upon it rest, not only the 
 minor duties of his profession, but oftentimes events the importance 
 of which his country will recognize. This, then, must be one 
 condition. 
 
 Another is that quality always associated with the profession of 
 arms but which may equally adorn any other, — courage. I do not 
 mean courage in the superficial acceptation of the term, not merely 
 courage to face a physical enemy, but courage to meet those ene- 
 mies who continually beset us, whose strategy is perfect, whose tac- 
 tics never err, and whose restless activity exacts our utmost energy to 
 meet. We have examples of graduates from this institution, and — 
 be it said with sorrow — their number is increasing, whose courage to 
 meet their enemies, perhaps not ours, has failed at the critical mo- 
 ment, and has brought disaster upon their lives ; and, without any 
 sentimental theory, we cannot but know that our daily life will pre- 
 sent us ten thousand chances to display true courage where the bat- 
 tlefield will one. 
 
 Another condition which I would impose, and which, to us who 
 are happy in the thought that we are soon to throw off the burden 
 of our work, may not be a very acceptable one, is industry. None 
 of us can doubt that this condition is pretty thoroughly imposed 
 upon us here. How will it be when we have no longer the strong 
 hand of authority to impose it for us ? Shall we then throw it off 
 entirely ? No other example than our course in this academy need 
 be sought to show the progress industry secures. The brevity of 
 life is a sufficient injunction to us not to waste its valuable hours. 
 
15 
 
 and our course when we leave the academy ought not, in this respect, 
 to be doubtful. Though we as yet know little of the service at large, 
 yet, if we can believe what we hear, we do know this : that it pre- 
 sents to the young officer strong temptations and a good opportunity 
 to while away his life in idleness and its consequent vices. 
 
 Are these conditions enough to determine the paths of our lives ? 
 Yes ; they draw with them all others that are necessary in life. The 
 life whose ruling principle is honor and integrity can never be 
 marked by deceit, fraud, or infidelity to duty. The life actuated by 
 true courage will not succumb beneath tempation. The industrious 
 man will not be the victim of evil habits. Drinking, gambling, and 
 the hundred other evils which follow in the train of idleness have 
 nothing to do with him whose time is devoted to the work of his 
 life. I do not mean to imply that all men's lives which fulfill these 
 conditions will be the same. Their characters will be the same. 
 Through any three points one circle and only one can be made to 
 pass ; and although for every change in the position of those points 
 there will be a different circle, yet the character of the curve will 
 still remain unchanged. So here, talent, opportunity, peculiar cir- 
 cumstances, may modify our lives, but cannot change their character. 
 This is the one solid fact which we should seize and retain with 
 an iron grasp. Whatever may be fortune's attitude toward us, — 
 whether she be lavish or penurious with her gifts, whether she sur 
 rouDd us with influential friends or leave us to rely wholly upon our- 
 selves, whether she spread golden opportunities in our way or leave 
 us to make them alone, — upon her caprices the formation of character 
 can never be made to depend. In this respect every man can. if he 
 choose, stand before the world the equal of every other man. 
 
 One hundred days from now and the thirty-seven paths of the 
 class of '84 will have one point in common ; the completion of this 
 course is the one achievement common to us all. Thenceforth they 
 will diverge, and time alone can tell how great that divergence will 
 be ; but let us hope that it will not be increased by any disregard 
 of these three conditions of life. Human experience shows that we 
 shall not all have equally long to make this great deduction. Life 
 is not certain for a moment. But. sustained by that hope for futu- 
 rity so natural to every mind, we may confidently expect that our 
 
16 
 
 work will not terminate with the termination of our lives ; and if, 
 as Longfellow says, — 
 
 " Death takes us by surprise, 
 
 And stays our hurrying feet; 
 It the design unfinrshed lies, 
 
 And our lives are incomplete ; 
 Yet, in the great unknown. 
 
 Perfect their circles seem, 
 Even as a bridge's arch of stone 
 
 Is rounded in the stream." 
 
 This much, at least, rests in the power of each of us, that when 
 the equation of his life is integrated, no negative quantities shall 
 exist to diminish the final whole ; and when at last he submits to 
 the great Instructor of life the memoir of his work, that he may 
 receive thereon the satisfactory indorsement, 
 
 " Examined and Approved." 
 
THE HOWITZER. 
 
 DISCHARGED ANNUALLY- LEAP YEARS VOLLEY. 
 
 WEST POINT, N. Y., 100 DAYS B. J. [Before June.] 
 
 C. E. Gillette, 'Si, Chief Editor. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 Wanted. — Two Spanish ponies for spring work. Must be accus- 
 tomed to one exercise a day. 
 
 Address Box 13 Howitzer, Up-Stair Office. 
 
 Lost. — A full head of hair. Finder will be suitably rewarded by 
 returning it to C. B. B., Sixth Division. 
 
 Found. — A large fragment of the fourth class, — last January. 
 BONER'S PATENT LiaHT RUNNING MACHINE. . 
 
 ABSOLUTE SECURITY GUARANTEED. 
 
 The whole apparatus is in a small box constructed so that a bright 
 light may be put in it, and, so perfect is the working of the machine, 
 that absolutely no light will be visible from outside the box. This 
 is one of the greatest inventions of the time, and no ambitious man 
 should be without one. 
 
 OPINIONS OF EMINENT MEN. 
 
 A. Boner, Esq. : — 
 
 Ml/ Dear Siy^, — It is with much pleasure that I express to you my 
 feelings on a subject that for so long a time has occupied my atten- 
 tion. I have been using your very original machine for some time, 
 
 2 
 
18 
 
 and I have come to the conclusion that you must be a very great 
 genius indeed, as your invention is nearly if not quite as good as my 
 own, that of putting a light under the bed-clothes. 
 
 Your fellow inventor, 
 
 Samuel Eeber. 
 
 A. Boner, Esq. : — 
 
 Sir, — I have had much experience in running lights. I have tried 
 every thing, even to putting bedding over the window in the ordinary 
 manner, and have met with extra — ordinary results ; but, Professor, 
 Captain, I mean Lieutenant, or rather I should say Mr. Boner, let me 
 assure you that, after its perfect safety, what I like next about your 
 machine is its astonishishing cheapness ; it is so cheap that even a 
 furloughman can alFord to have one ; this is indeed a great point in 
 its favor, as price is the objection to all the other methods of running 
 lights. 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 GrEORGE B. DuNCAN. 
 
 A. BoNER, Esq. : — 
 
 Dear Sir, — After a long trial of all the different methods of 
 running lights, even to the "pure gall method," the " polyconic 
 method," and the " methods by limits," I have come to the conclu- 
 sion that your apparatus is the safest and surest. 
 
 Cecil Stewart. 
 
 For price-list and further particulars address 
 
 A. Boner, Aftertaps, N. Y. 
 
 A scene or HORROR. 
 
 It is on the field of battle ; but a short time before, the frenzied 
 shouts of contending armies were resounding through the valley 
 where now many a brave soldier lies tranquil in the sleep which 
 knows no waking. The army, in retreat, has given up the field to 
 the dying and the dead. Here, grim Death, in his most revolting- 
 forms, has held high carnival. The earth everywhere is crimsoned 
 with gore ; thousands of mutilated victims of cruel war, lacerated by 
 cannon-balls or gashed with ghastly sabre-strokes, their bloody locks 
 frozen to their icy pillows, have found their last resting place on the 
 banks of the winding river that flows through this fertile valley. 
 
 Here, struck down by the hand of undeviating Fate, lies the youth- 
 ful warrior, all his bright hopes of the future hushed within his 
 placid breast. There lies the aged veteran who has willingly obeyed 
 the summons of that friend, with whose awful face he had become 
 familiar, and the calm expression on his countenance betokens that 
 quiet rest which his weary spirit had not found on this earth. But 
 
19 
 
 thrice fortunate they whom death has thus suddenly overtaken. 
 From every direction a wail of woe fills the ear. A chilling rain 
 has drenched the gory ground. Many of the wounded who have 
 painfully dragged themselves into the ravines and gullies to escape 
 the tempest of shot, the trampling of iron hoofs, and the crush of 
 artillery wheels, are struggling convulsively in beds of mire. Oth- 
 ers, who have tried to escape from this scene of horror by crossing 
 the treacherous ice on the river, are engulfed in its depths ; and the 
 wind, moaning through the leafless branches of the willows on the 
 bank, sighs their sad requiem. Twilight deepens, and one by one 
 the silent sentinels of night come out in the sky. The moon in radi- 
 ant beauty rises serenely in the east, looking down with her mild 
 reproof upon the terrible spectacle. 
 
 Near a small mound, a short distance from the river, lies, in the 
 agonies of death, a young soldier who but a few short weeks before 
 had been given up by a fond mother as a sacrifice on the altar of the 
 fatherland. May not the decrees of the Grod of battles be altered by 
 praying ? May not this poor unfortunate one be spared to the wid- 
 owed mother whose tearful supplication continually ascends to high 
 Heaven, imploring the Father of the fatherless to watch over the 
 safety of her child? But in vain ; the icy finger of death is on him, 
 and the dread ferryman is waiting to transport his lingering spirit 
 over the dark flowing river. The death-rattle is in his throat : he 
 thinks of home, mother, sister, then shrieks and — dies. 
 
 Near by is seen another poor victim stricken down in his vigorous 
 manhood. Anguish is depicted on his countenance. Can no aid 
 reach this one and alleviate his suff"ering? Yes, for he has simply 
 sprained his foot, and St. Jacob's Oil will cure him. 
 
 Price 50 cents a bottle. Sold by all druggists. 
 
 BOOK NOTICES. 
 
 Wave Motion. — A novel. By Peter S. Michie, professor of 
 natural and experimental philosophy in the United States Military 
 , Academy. Bound in cloth and illustrated. New York : D. Yan 
 Nostrand & Co. Price four dollars and eighty cents. 
 This exquisite and interesting novel was issued to us by the Cadet 
 Commissary some time ago, and it certainly merits a thorough 
 perusal. The j^lot is deep, and the characters are well portrayed. 
 In fact, the author seems to have diligently and faithfully gone, in 
 his search for data, into the most minute details, and with most 
 elaborate care. 
 
 The plot is laid in the Phil Academy, and although the date is 
 rather indefinite, the illustrations are numerous and elegant. 
 
 The heroine of the tale, Miss Mary Cule, or, as she is familiarly 
 
20 
 
 called, " Molly Cule," is a most attractice little thing. Though her 
 sphere is not large, she moves in it with untiring activity and the 
 utmost grace, and her power over those around her is unlimited. 
 
 The hero is Mr. Michael Roscope, — a name which is of course 
 abbreviated by his mates to Mike Roscope. He is of a very inquis- 
 itive turn of mind, — an earnest searcher after truth, and is most 
 assiduous in his endeavors to captivate Miss Molly ; but, sad to relate, 
 he is invariably unsuccessful. 
 
 The incidents of the tale are brought out with great force and 
 admirable novelty, and the descriptions are perfect. Numerous 
 jokes are interspersed throughout the text, taken mostly from the 
 Greek alphabet. Some of the passages are of such surpassing 
 beauty and flow of language, that we cannot refrain from a selection. 
 
 "In a homogeneous medium the arbitrary displacement of a mole- 
 cule gives rise to elastic forces whose intensities depend on the de- 
 gree and direction of the displacement, and whose directions are not 
 in general those of the displacement, and as we have seen that the 
 displacements must be made only in exceptional directions, in order 
 that the elastic forces varying with the degree of displacement should 
 be wholly in those directions, if the orbit of the displaced molecule 
 be curvilinear, it is evident that at each point of its path the elastic 
 forces developed should vary both in direction and intensity, and 
 thus the general problem becomes one of extreme intricacy." 
 
 What a depth of feeling ! What pathos ! Is it to be wondered 
 at that second-class men should become so intensely, madly inter- 
 ested, and that they should forsake "The Colonel's Daughter," and 
 "Won at West Point," and turn with eagerness to this, the novel 
 of novels, and sit up till long after " taps" studying the character 
 of Miss Molly or reading of the adventure of Mr. Roscope ? We 
 heartily commend the book to those who are in search of something 
 novel, and may they enjoy it as we have. 
 
 PERSONALS. 
 
 "You're another." 
 
 Mr. Potter is said to be the homeliest man in the United States. 
 (We refer him to our fighting editors.) 
 
 The shoemaker says that Mr. Thompson is a good customer. He 
 never stands on trifles. 
 
21 
 
 FrXNY COLUAiy. 
 
 Josh Billings. 
 Artemus Ward. 
 Lewis. I. X. 
 Reber. 
 
 A GEM FROM JOMINI. 
 
 There are five things thai the modern soldier never wants to be 
 separated from, — his bed, his breakfast, dinner and supper, and two 
 pounds of tobac-co. 
 
 Congress seems to be having considerable trouble in obtaining a 
 proper party to send north to find Lieut. Greeley. The Howitzer 
 siTgo'ests that they St-nd the Academic Board, They can find him, 
 
 INTERVIEW WITH A RETURNED EURLOrGHMAX. 
 
 A reporter of the Howitzer called upon a returned fuidoughman 
 the other day. and the following is the result: •• TTell. G-eorge S.. 
 what did you do on furlough ? ■■ Oh. nothing, but - spoon." 
 
 A coxrxDRrM. 
 
 Why is the sentinel on the color line like Fitz Juhn Porter ? 
 Because he attracts a great deal of attention calling for relief. 
 
 TWO SCENES ERCOI THE LIFE OF A LUDE, 
 Sceiie I. Chemical LoJjoratory , 
 
 Instructor beamingly . — ■■ Mr. H.. can you give a simple method 
 of making a magnet of a bar of iron 
 
 Mr. H. thoughtfully , — ■•Yes. sir. Tl' magnify a bar of iron 
 you drive the north end of an iron poker into the maenetic meri- 
 dian with a wooden mallet,'" 
 
 (Curtain, 
 
 >^cene II. Temple of History, 
 
 Instructor. — Mr. H.. you may give a brief account of the origin 
 of Mohammedanism. 
 
 Mr, H. — Yes. sir : Mahomet was a man embarrassing pause} ; 
 he was born in Mecca. He used to go out to a cave to muse. 
 He didn't like the Arabian religion, so he got one up of his own. 
 
22 
 
 They persecuted him in Mecca, so he took his wife Hegira and fled 
 to Medina. 
 
 (More curtain.) 
 
 OTHER SCENES FROM HISTORY. 
 
 Mr. C. (reciting). — " Now this country, Phoenicia, was between 
 the river Lebanon and the sea." 
 
 Instructor. — "Was Lebanon a river, Mr. C. ? " 
 
 *' No, sir ; Lebanon was not river — but — Phoenicia was between 
 Lebanon and the Mediterranean." 
 
 *' What was Lebanon, Mr. C ? " 
 
 " A city, sir." 
 
 ANOTHER. 
 
 Instructor. — Where, Mr. C, did you say the temple of Diana 
 was?" 
 
 Mr. C. — "It was — a — was — a — " 
 
 Instructor (with a kindly helping suggestion as he supposed). 
 "Yes ; you remember, no doubt, the phrase in the Bible, ' Great is 
 Diana of the — " 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir ; G-reat is Diana of the Phoenicians." 
 
 (Curtain again.) 
 
 PROBLEM FOR THIRD CLASSMEN. 
 
 Find the perspective of the shadow cast by coming events. 
 
 ANOTHER CONUNDRUM. 
 
 Why are the new-style safety matches like Darius Green's flying 
 machine ? Because the trouble is when you come to light. 
 
 " Hutch" inquires, " Why is a coming event like a dog's tail ? " 
 The answer is, " Because it is something to occur." 
 
 Our devil replies, " Why is Hutch's cap like wave motion ?" 
 " Because it is something to a void." 
 
 There was a young man from Kentucky 
 
 Who thought himself very unlucky; 
 
 At every new " break " 
 
 He expected a "make," 
 
 And soldierly attitudes struck he. 
 
23 
 
 1884. 
 
 This being leap year, the duty of making matrimonial proposals 
 will devolve upon the opposite sex, so we deem it advisable to point 
 out a few " eligible " young ladies, shall I say ? with a short description 
 of each, and the best method of approaching them. Among the 
 most prominent belles are : — 
 
 Miss Freddie Palmer. This charming young lady has a delicate 
 blonde complexion and a lithe, willowy form ; is quiet and demure 
 when not awake ; has a perennial smile of great range and clear- 
 ness. She will be difficult to woo and almost impossible to win. In 
 fact, she is a decided coquette. 
 
 Miss Cole, J. A. A tall stately blonde, with a queenl}- carriage 
 and high soprano voice ; speaks French fluently, also Irish ; as 
 shy as a pheasant in one of her native Wisconsin woods. She will 
 probably die an old maid. 
 
 Miss Morse. A petite brunette ; most bewitchingly sweet, but 
 a desperate flirt. We warn everybody against her. 
 
 Miss Hutcheson. Another flirt ; a light, angular blonde with a 
 celestial countenance, a profusion of golden hair ; rather a3sthetic. 
 Is difficult to understand, and may appear captured when really 
 scarcely interested. 
 
 Miss F. Sayre. A picturesque young lady with a smile remark- 
 able for its sweetness and breadth. The citadel of her heart can only 
 be captured by a regular siege, with a complete system of parallels 
 and approaches. Our advice is, go slow and don't do any thing 
 suddenly. 
 
 Miss Gretchen Cress. A rosy-cheeked damsel with soft blue 
 eyes. Will be a great heiress in case some one leaves her a large 
 fortune. 
 
 There are many others, but our space is limited. 
 
24 
 
 NED GILPIN'S EIDE. 
 
 A first-sergeant named Ned is well known in the corps; 
 Well known for Lis "skins," which he counts l^y the score; 
 For hi3 brace, and his voice, and above all his fall, 
 "Which happened quite recently down at the hall. 
 
 He was going around at a moderate pace, — 
 
 There 'd have been some excuse had he been in a race, -— 
 
 And was cutting at heads as they lay on the ground, 
 
 Not expecting his horse to go off at a bound 
 
 And leave him behind, plowing bark with his ear, 
 
 A little ashamed of the way he'd appear 
 
 To the ladies who watched all the riders below, 
 
 And laughed when they saw that Ned's horse was so slow. 
 
 But such was the case ; for at one little swerve 
 
 He tottered and tell, describing a curve 
 
 Not mentioned in Calculus, neither in Phil., 
 
 But sometimes described by a man 'gainst his will. 
 
 But Ned had been raised on army rations, 
 
 " With all of their marvelous manifestations ; " 
 
 So up he arose with his usual grace, 
 
 And brushing the tan-bark off his face. 
 
 He sheathed his knile with deliberate care, 
 
 Put on his cap and smoothed his hair. 
 
 And strode across the tan-bark hall 
 
 As though he'd never had a tall; 
 
 His head erect, and his shoulders back. 
 
 While his horse went on around the track. 
 
 He captured his steed at the opposite squad, 
 
 After chasing it round for many a rod ; 
 
 And putting his hands on his back and his mane, 
 
 With many a struggle he mounted again. 
 
 With no loss of his dignity, — •* nary a smile," — 
 
 Which shows him a thoroughly disciplined file. 
 
 He was mounted again, not only astride 
 Of his razor-backed horse, but his sabre beside; 
 And finding his seat most uncomfortably rare, — 
 A little akin to the " verge of despair," — 
 Atter glancing around at his fortunate neighbor, 
 He lets go of the reins and clutches his sabre. 
 
 Oh ! wasn't he there in a perilous plight, 
 That warrior bold all armed tor the fight! 
 As he clung to his sabre instead of the rein, 
 His horse started out on the rampage again. 
 
 But e'en though his steed had a mud-turtle gait, 
 Ned thought it too fast, and concluded to wait; 
 So, taking a header without any cause. 
 He lit in the bark amidst shouts ot applause. 
 
 This tale has a sequel : in two years at the most, 
 When Ned is assigned to a cavalry post, 
 His " throws " will be costly, — in fact, they'll come high; 
 It'll take all his salary for " Mumm's Extra Dry." 
 
25 
 
 KETTLE-DRXJM. 
 
 One of the most "recherche" gatherings of the present season 
 took place last week. It was a leap-year kettle-drum, given by Miss 
 Edwina Babbitt and Miss Emma Ayer, at their palatial residence, 
 " The Tower," situated in the most aristocratic portion of the First 
 Division. Yery elaborate preparations had been made for the occa- 
 sion. The mansion, notably one of the most sumptuous, was 
 arranged with exquisite taste. A word as to the residence itself 
 may not be out of place. The architecture is that of a Norman 
 castle. There is a prominent structure in Sing Sing built and run 
 on similar principles. The internal decorations of "The Tower" 
 combine Spartan simplicity with commissary curtains. The walls 
 are of a peculiar, dazzling, kind of a russet-white color, made by 
 applying a liquid solution of calcium hydrate, a rare and more or 
 less costly substance. The floor and wood-work are of a precious 
 wood known as ^- Pinus variahilis^'^ a wood discovered by Prof. Ma- 
 han, " fine-grained, moderately resinous, strong and durable." Soon 
 after ten o'clock the guests began to arrive, and filled, first the bril- 
 liantly lighted salons, and then — themselves. After interchange 
 of the customary salutations, refreshments were served. Rare and 
 costly viands were provided, some of which had been imported at 
 considerable trouble from the cadet mess-hall. Great credit is due 
 for the success of this part of the entertainment to Miss Daisy 
 Shanks, who had been appointed toast-mistress — to make the toast. 
 Some of the costumes worn were superb ; some had never been worn 
 before (and many, it is hoped, will never be worn again). Miss 
 Babbitt, who did the delicate duties of hostess with her usual ex- 
 quisite tact, was attired in a costume of blue counterscarp, cut " en 
 barbette," with " cremaillere " lace in the sleeves and at the neck. 
 Miss Ayer, who assisted her, wore a dinner dress with casemated 
 sleeves and pontoon train. Miss Morse wore a costume of Pisa re- 
 vetment overlaid with a net work of gabions and fascines. For 
 ornaments a simple necklace of ordnance considerations. Miss 
 Jumbo Knight, who eventually took charge of most of the refresh- 
 ments, wore gray genouillere with enfiladed bastions. She carried 
 an elegant bouquet of Marechal Davoust roses. Miss Gaillard wore 
 a novel and picturesque attire of her own invention. It was made 
 
26 
 
 of heavy caponniere, cut " en magasin de poudre,^^ with blind em- 
 brasures scarped in front with delicate glacis work. On the whole, 
 the affair was a most brilliant one. 
 
 The Howitzer has received many contributions concerning the 
 after-sunset glow ; we have room only for the following : — 
 
 THE AFTER-SUNSET GLOW. 
 Air— The Wearing of the Green. 
 
 Come, boys, and take your glasses, 
 
 And stand up in a row ; 
 For a scientific singing, boys, 
 
 We're going for to go. 
 In the nortli's the fair Aurora, 
 
 With its radiant lightning how. 
 And in the west that frightful pest, 
 
 The after-sunset glow. 
 Chorus : The after-sunset glow-o-ow, etc. 
 
 You may aim your glass at Venus, 
 
 Have a squint at father Mars, 
 And with self-reliance take a shot 
 
 At trillion -mile-off stars ; 
 But if you want the substance 
 
 For a scientific blow, 
 Incline the glass's muzzle toward 
 
 The after-sunset glow. 
 Chorus : The after-sunset glow-o-ow, etc. 
 
 Then quickly take your Bai'tlett's Phil. 
 
 And closely scan it o'er; 
 Pick out these daisy subjects, boys, 
 
 Some three or four or more, — 
 The rolling cone and dog-house and 
 
 The punch-bowl's steady flow,— 
 And mix the mess together 
 
 For the after-sunset glow. 
 Chorus : The after-sunset glo-o-ow, etc. 
 
 Stir it up with Airy's rainbow. 
 
 Add a score of meteors bright. 
 Blow air in through an organ pipe 
 
 To make it " sound and light." 
 Let it stand for a lunation 
 
 Where the " stagnant torrents flow," 
 And you'll have an explanation 
 
 For the after-sunset glow. 
 Chorus : The after-sunset glow-ow-ow, etc. 
 
 MiKB." 
 
27 
 
 West Point, N. Y., February 22, 1884. 
 The Editor of the Hoivitzer: — 
 
 Sir, — I would respectfully state that when " Night let her sable 
 curtain down," its color was hired, and she has received orders to put 
 up curtains of the uniform pattern and color. 
 
 Very respectfully. 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 D. D. G., 
 Cadet Quartennaster. 
 
 West Point, N. Y., February 22, 1884. 
 The Editor of the Howitzer: — 
 
 Sir, — I have the honor to state that to the best of my knowledge 
 and experience, the after-sunset glow must be a reflection from the 
 rosy cheeks and ruby lips of the girls that are waiting to welcome 
 us home. 
 
 Respectfully submitted. 
 
 S. D. S., 
 
 Cadet Lieutenant and Adjutant. 
 
 West Point, N. Y., February 22, 1884. 
 The Editor of the Hov:itzer: — 
 
 Sir, — I have the honor to state that I have had an extensive 
 personal experience in the matter of glows, and it is my firm belief 
 that the after-sunset glow is entirely due to old SoFs getting a bad 
 case of the grins. 
 
 Respectfullv submitted. 
 
 J. D. B., 
 
 Cadet Quartermaster- Sergeant. 
 
 West Point, X. Y., February 22, 1884. 
 The Editor of the Howitzer: — 
 
 Sir, — I have the honor to state that I believe the true explana- 
 tion of the after-sunset glow is to be found in Holmes's lines : — 
 
 " Day has put on his jacket, and around 
 His hurning bosom buttoned it with stars." 
 
 I would respectfully suggest that Day be reported for '- jacket 
 unbuttoned at retreat." 
 
 Very respectfully, 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 W. E. C, 
 Cadet Sergeant-Major . 
 
 howitzer edition of poetry. 
 
 The Howitzer will soon issue an improved volume of poetry to 
 meet a long-felt want. Poets are proverbially careless in the matter 
 of explicitly defining the meaning of words and expressions, particu- 
 
28 
 
 larly technical ones whicti they use, and all editions of their poems 
 are singularly lacking in explanatory notes. This defect the How- 
 itzer proposes to remedy by publishing a volume of choice selec- 
 tions, with all doubtful or technical expressions carefully explained 
 in foot notes. To give a better idea of the scope of the work, we 
 cull a few selections at random : — 
 
 BYRON'S BATTLE OF WATERLOO IN CHILDE HAROLDE. 
 
 " And there was mounting in hot haste the steed ; 
 The mustering squadron and the hattle-car 
 Went rolling forward with impetuous speed, 
 And swiftly forming in the ranks of war." 
 
 Notes. — " Battle-car." Thepoetis slightly inaccurate; he probably means 
 either a caisson or a battery-wagon. The latter is a large rectangular box 
 covered with painted canvas, and supported on three side rails (Gaillard). 
 Its use is to transport implements lor armorers and laboratorians ; also 
 carries both axes and spai-e axes. 
 
 " Impetuous speed." Double time, — the rate being 165 steps to the minute. 
 
 " The steed." The horse transports his load in two ways: 1st, as a draft- 
 horse; and 2d, as a mule. For a pack-horse the mule is a better horse than 
 the horse himself, as, being shorter, the bending moment is less. 
 
 "The mustering squadron." Each captain, as the inspecting officer ap- 
 proaches, causes sabres to be drawn and commands "Attention to muster." 
 
 " Mounting in hot haste." A very felicitous expression. Byron must have 
 seen Mr. Palmer in the riding-hall. 
 
 Another selection. 
 
 BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE. 
 
 "Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, 
 As his corse from the rampart we hurried," etc. 
 
 Notes. — " From the rampart we hurried." The reason for the haste in get- 
 ting away from a rampart was doubtless due to the fact that they had been 
 studying " Wheeler's Permanent Fortifications." 
 
 " Not a drum was heard." The Oflicer of the Day could not find the orderly. 
 
 THE FORT THAT JACK BUILT. 
 
 This is the fort that Jack built. This is the re-entering place-of- 
 arms of the fort that Jack built. This is the parapet of the redoubt 
 of the re-entering place-of-arms of the fort that Jack built. This 
 is the interior crest of the parapet of the redoubt of the re-entering 
 place-of-arms of the fort that Jack built. This is the salient of the 
 interior crest of the parapet of the redoubt of the re-entering place- 
 of-arms of the fort that Jack built. This is the reference of the 
 salient of the interior crest of the parapet of the redoubt of the 
 re-entering place-of-arms of the fort that Jack built. 
 
 A BLOOD-CURDLING INCIDENT. 
 
 ' Twas a beautiful, balmy, sleepy, Sunday afternoon. The Corps 
 had fought a noble battle at dinner that day, and now, after their 
 
29 
 
 usual Sunday portion of roast pork and mince-pie. had sought tte 
 solace of their couches, and had sunk into a refreshing slumber. 
 
 The Fifth Division was peaceful and quiet as the grave ( Baker, 
 D. J., was absent on permit ), save that ever and anon were heard the 
 measured breathings of the happy sleepers, while from Simpson's 
 room proceeded a deep, regular, lower Gr snore that made a not 
 unpleasant accompaniment to the whole. 
 
 Bright visions of graduating leaves, camp, and furlough were 
 flitting through the minds of the happy dreamers. Palmer, in his 
 dreams, was explaining to some poor unfortunate his latest prospect 
 of gaining a file in class standing : there's no telling how many 
 stripes, arcs, etc., Riche would have had on his sleeve had he been 
 present, but he was taking his Sunday-afternoon recreation on the 
 river: and Fuller — but the deacon had eaten too much dinner 
 and wasn't dreaming at all : while Poore believed himself in that 
 fair country where the sergeants cease from skinning and the 
 yearlings are at rest. 
 
 All of these bright visions are in full blast, when — Horror.'! 
 "What is that awful, marrow-freezing, spine-chilling, flesh-creeping 
 sound that breaks in upon the Sabbath calm ? Each would-be 
 slumberer springs from his bed. his hands instinctively chitcliing the 
 rifle or sabre nearest him. while visions of Indian massacres and the 
 war in Egypt flit through his startled brain. 
 
 Again that awful, horror-inspiring sound comes rushing up the 
 iron stairway. AYith a groan of relief ( and other remarks j the re-as- 
 sured sleepers drop their weapons and again seek their beds. They 
 have heard that sound before. It was the thundering voice of D " 
 company's martial captain, echoing this sweet and sonorous strain 
 ■"Hugh Grallagher-r-r." 
 
 The following cogent explanation was submitted by a member of 
 the first class : — 
 
 West Point, N. Y., November 31, 1883. 
 Report. — Light in quarters after 11 p. M. 
 
 Explanation. — I would respectfully state that my room-mate was 
 Officer of the Day, consequently I was entitled to a light after 11 ; 
 and that I was not orderly, and so not responsible for it ; also I was 
 in the hospital at the time, and therefore could not have put it out. 
 
30 
 
 I would further state that there was no light in my quarters alter 
 11 p. M. 
 
 Respectfully submitted. 
 
 Napier Ten Eyck, 
 Cadet Pvt. Co. 1st class. 
 
 To Lt. Col. H. C. Hasbrouck, 
 Com. Corps Cadets. 
 
 To the Editor of the Hoivitzer:-^ 
 
 It has been a time-honored custom for some one blest with a Jules 
 Vernian imagination to manufacture a dream to order, and impose 
 it on the unsuspecting public through the columns of the Howitzer 
 as a genuine mince-pie vision. On this occasion I have been placed 
 on the dream detail. 
 
 Whatever may be the apparent discrepancies of this dream, how- 
 ever closely it may verge on the improbable, let it be remembered 
 that it is genuine, and that no attempt has been made to reconcile 
 inconsistencies at the expense of truth. It is not offered as a prize 
 dream, but is given just as it was dreamed, and for what it is worth. 
 
 I dreamed that I dwelt in marble halls, third division, second floor, 
 left hand area room. I had been reported for " obtaining correct 
 answer to ordnance problem." I had stated in my explanation that 
 the offense was unintentional, and that under the excitement of the 
 moment I had lost my head, and while laboring under one of those 
 fits of mental aberration to which all men are subject at times, I had 
 committed the offense. Judge of my surprise when an order was 
 read at parade, stating that on account of the unprecedented charac- 
 ter of my offense I was sentenced to be beheaded. I at once served 
 out a writ of habeas corpus on the ground that said corpus would 
 be of no use to the government after the head was removed, and 
 further objected to the sentence as unconstitutional, since the con- 
 stitution provides that no person shall be twice placed in jeopardy 
 of life or limb for the same offense, whereas, as stated in my expla- 
 nation. I lost my head at the time the offense was committed. The 
 objection was not sustained, it being held that the head is not a 
 limb within the meaning of the law, and that, furthermore, there is 
 nothing in the constitution giving the federal courts jurisdiction in 
 the matter. 
 
31 
 
 When it was known that the decree was irrevocable, my friends 
 crowded round me, and with tears in their voices plead for a first on 
 my white pants. Such devotion overcame me. and for the first time 
 I wept. Feeling that there was no longer hope. I stibmitted a per- 
 mit craving the boon of being my own executioner, stating that it 
 would not interfere with academic duties, and that no undue advan- 
 tage would be taken. The next morning I was sent for by the Offi- 
 cer in Charge and informed that the permit had been granted, but 
 that it had been decided to offer me an alternative punishment, 
 namely, light prison for life. My blood boiled. What, sir." said 
 I, can you sttppose for an instant that I could revel in luxury the 
 remainder of my life while the Officer of the Day suffered for my 
 crime ? He seemed to gather, for he left the room without a word, 
 beckoning me to follow him. He led the way to a dark opening in 
 the side of the mountain just behind the commissary building. We 
 entered and groped otir way along the dark underground passage, 
 and finally emerged into a small chamber, •'■ Your last alternative," 
 said my guide, "is to rt-main a prisoner in this subterranean cell 
 until yoti dig for yourself a passage to the outer world,"' at the same 
 time handing me an intrenching bayonet. I had used a similar tool 
 before. I was about to hand it back to him with the remark that 
 if it was all the same to him I would prefer a Cjuicker and less pain- 
 ful death, when there seemed to appear before me a sweet face, with 
 sad reproachful eyes, that bade be make one more effort for life. I 
 said I would accept the terms, and immediately was alone. 
 
 From the angle of our descent, I judged that the chamber must 
 be directly under the ditch of Fort Put." and about three hundred 
 feet below the stirface. A passage from a favorite author flashed 
 across my mind. •■ An ordinary soldier, armed with such a tool, can 
 excavate fotir cttbic yards of earth per dav." A hasty calculation 
 told me I wotild be out in time for graduation. With a cheerful 
 heart I plunci'ed the"* implement into the earth. It struck a stone 
 slab set in the wall. Passino- my hand over it I found that it bore 
 an inscription. Letter by letter I traced it oitt. As I proceeded a 
 cold sweat appeared on my brow, the bayonet dropped from my 
 nerveless fingers, my blood ran cold until it seemed to freeze in my 
 veins, and when I reached the last three letters, and the terrible 
 
32 
 
 truth flaslied upon me, I sank on my knees in despair, for I knew 
 the task was hopeless. The terrible inscription read : — 
 
 CAPONNIERE, 
 
 Constructed for the defense of Fort Putnam Ditch, 
 under the direction of 
 D. D. G. 
 
 I dashed out through the dark passage, rushed to my room, seized 
 a sabre, laid my head on an Indian club, stepped back two paces 
 and executed " left cut against infantry." The head rolled on the 
 floor. I picked it up, hung it on a hat-peg, and looking it stead- 
 fastly in the eye, calmly awaited the silent messenger of death. A 
 footstep strangely soft and weird was heard outside ; it approached 
 my chamber ; some one entered ; it was not the silent messenger, it 
 was an orderly. He said the Officer in Charge wanted to see me. 
 I obeyed the summons and was addressed as follows : — 
 
 " It has been decided that your punishment is far too light for 
 the off'ense, and the sentence has therefore been changed to three 
 days consecutive attendance at Spanish." Seeing my look of horror 
 he hastened to state, that in order to render the execution of the sen- 
 tence possible I would be excused from all other recitations and 
 from marching to meals, and would be allowed a light until 1 a. m., 
 and that the sentence as thus mitigated would be duly executed. 
 At that moment the bugle blew and I hastened from the room and 
 fell in ranks. 
 
 Troubles seemed to multiply. The officer of the day gave me 
 three reports, for which I submitted explanations as follows : — 
 
 Report : Hanging head in ranks marching to Spanish. 
 
 Explanation : I would respectfully state that the report is a mis- 
 take. I hung my head on a cap-peg in my quarters. 
 
 Report : Hair cut by some one other than the cadet barber. 
 
 Explanation : I would respectfully state that I had a permit to 
 cut off my head and supposed the hair was to go with it. 
 
 Report : Cap on side of head marching to academic building. 
 
 Explanation : I would respectfully state that I think the report 
 is undeserved for the following reasons : — 
 
 First, I wore no cap. 
 
 Second, I had no head. 
 
 Third, the cap was a new one and of the latest pattern, and as I 
 
33 
 
 had not had time to cut it down, its center of gravity was so far 
 above the point of contact as to put it in a state of unstable equilib- 
 rium. 
 
 All the reports stuck. 
 
 At this point the dream became confused. An appropriate and 
 thrilling ending might be invented for it, but it would be a pity to 
 mar its marvelous beauty and truth by any thing savoring of fiction 
 or exaggeration, so — 
 
 Just as it is, without one plea, 
 
 Except its sweet simplicity, 
 
 And that 'twas never dreamed by me. 
 
 This production is most respectfully submitted. 
 
 Abou Ben Adam. 
 
 LETTER FROM A CANDIDATE. 
 
 Sand Hill. Herkimer Co., Ark., 
 
 February 10, 1884. 
 
 To the Editor of the Howitzer : — 
 
 Dear Editor, — Having been appointed a cadet to the West 
 Point College, I thought I would write and ask you some questions 
 about the place, and whether you think I would do for a soldier. 
 
 How large a town is West Point ? How many stores and black- 
 smith-shops are there there ? Are cadets allowed to go out much 
 at night ? Do you have to study much ? Could I get rooms with 
 the proprietor of the college ? If not, could I get any better rooms 
 by coming early ? Do you have real guns and cannon ? How about 
 revolvers ? I have two and a bowie-knife. Will I need them ? The 
 paper the congressman sent me don't say any thing about them. 
 What is a black stock, and what is a gray cloth coatee ? Is the 
 superintendent the proprietor? How many vacations do you have a 
 year ? Do you think I will do ? I am eighteen years old, and five 
 feet, eight inches high ? I was born in New Jersey. Would that 
 prevent my being appointed from Arkansas ? Is influence any use 
 in getting admitted to West Point ? My father is postmaster here, 
 and keeps a grocery; he is also coroner and notary public and 
 magistrate. Would that help any in getting in ? Do cadets all 
 study the same studies, or can each one select what he wants to 
 study ? If you answer these questions you will confer a favor on 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 J. B. Henderson. 
 
 Sand Hillj Herkimer Co., Ark. 
 3 
 
34 
 
 Yes, Mr. Henderson, we will be only too glad to answer your 
 questions, and give you all the advice in our power. 
 
 In the first place, your expression " Dear Editor," is all right 
 applied to us, but be careful and don't use the expression too often to 
 others. Never speak to the superintendent as " Dear Greneral," or to 
 the instructor as "Dear Lieutenant," or, above all, never speak to 
 that brass-buttoned monster who takes charge of you on your arrival 
 as " Dear Corporal." Perhaps this latter caution is unnecessary. 
 
 As to your questions : West Point is not a very large town, and 
 there are few stores and blacksmith-shops. Cadets are not allowed 
 to go out very much at night. They are obliged to study a little 
 once in a while. The proprietor, as you call him, has at present no 
 rooms to spare, and you will probably be obliged to live in a build- 
 ing called barracks, of which you will learn more hereafter. 
 
 As to the cannon, etc. : We have heard it said by fourth-classmen 
 that there was most decided reality to certain brass pieces near camp. 
 Bring your bowie-knife and revolvers by all means. You ought also 
 to have a double-barreled shot-gun, both for aggressive purposes and 
 for hunting snipe in the area of barracks on Saturday afternoons. 
 This area is a wild piece of ground much frequented by sportsmen. 
 
 No, the superintendent is not the proprietor, but he is a very 
 influential man in the academy. You will probably follow a great 
 deal of his advice. We have two vacations each year : one in June, 
 when we vacate barracks ; and one in September, when we vacate 
 camp. Your father's influential position will help you wonderfully. 
 You should make a statement of it in your examination papers. 
 Your being born in New Jersey would not prevent your being 
 appointed from Arkansas, but it would from any other state in the 
 Union. 
 
 Any further advice or information we will be happy to give you. 
 
 SUNDAY READING. 
 
 THE PARABLE OF THE REEKLESS DEACON. 
 
 And at that time there dwelt in the city of Ottawa, in the land 
 of Illinois, James, the son of Zedekiah, of the house of Long, a 
 youth, who, having sojourned for a time among the upright and vir- 
 tuous at the military academy, had since departed therefrom and 
 
35 
 
 fallen into the ways of the wicked ; yea. even had become a drum- 
 mer. And it came to pass that in the twelfth month, and the 20th 
 day of the month, he arose and said unto himself : Gro to. hast thou 
 forgotten all the companions of thine innocence? And. in the full- 
 ness of his heart, he answered and said unto himself : Xay. even so 
 there is one Deacon the Fullerite. who still dwelleth in the land of 
 milk, but of no honey : and I will rejoice his heart, for will I not 
 send him of frankincense, and of myrrh, and of fine gold, whereof 
 he hath much need ? And he said : Xay. not of these, but rather 
 of that for which his soul yearneth : yea, of that which is called 
 '• Lightning of Xew Jersey." And he arose and put on his shoes, 
 and went forth unto them which dealt in malt liquors and strong 
 wine. And he drew forth one shekel of brass and saith unto them ; 
 ^' Give me the value thereof."' And having received and sampled 
 it. he went his way rejoicing. 
 
 So. it came to pass in the twelfth month and the 27th day thereof, 
 that there came unto Deacon the Fullerite one who saith unto him : 
 ■• Behold, the Officer in Charge hath need of thee. So straightway 
 he arose and arrayed himself in his purple and fine linen, and gat 
 him forth and stood in the inner court of the guard-house, over 
 against the abode of the Officer in Charge. And it was so. that 
 when the Officer in Charge saw Deacon the Fullerite standing in the 
 court, he found favor in his sight, and he said unto him : Where- 
 fore standest thou without ? "* So the Deacon drew near and an- 
 swered him. saying: •■ Here am I."' Then said the officer unto 
 him : Behold, there hath come from afar that which seemeth thy 
 property. Here it lieth. Knowest thou thereof?"' And the 
 Deacon seeing that there was written thereon in large characters. 
 '-DUE 5," saith: '-Verily. I know it not.'" 
 
 Xow. that the law might be fulfilled, as it is written, the Officer 
 in Charge said unto him : Open, that we may know the contents 
 thereof."' And it was opened. 
 
 Xow. when the C)fficer in Charge saw that it was Jersey Light- 
 ning, yea. even the finest corn juice of Ottawa, he said unto him : 
 Get thee hence." And he got him henceward. and went away 
 exceeding sorrowful, and arrayed himself in sackcloth and ashes. 
 And behold, the Deacon read the following day upon the skin-board : 
 Deacon the Fullerite. breaking the law of the 110th chapter of 
 
36 
 
 the Book of Regulations, wlierein it is written : Thou shalt not drink 
 of the fruit of the vine, nor cause it to be brought within the sanc- 
 tuary of cadet limits ; neither thou, nor thy room-mate, nor the 
 stranger that is within thy gates." 
 
 And thereupon the Deacon was exceeding wroth, and he smote 
 his breast and cried aloud, saying : "I will arise and go unto the 
 Commandant, and say unto him : • Colonel, I am innocent of this 
 whereof I am accused. Behold, it is the work of mine adversaries? 
 who go about seeking to do me evil.' " And the Colonel said unto 
 him : " Where are thine adversaries ? And he, answering, said : 
 " There are none to condemn me." Then the Colonel said : " Neither 
 do I condemn thee. Gro in peace." 
 
 EEVISED EDITION OF " POE'S DEMON." 
 
 1. Once upon a midnight fearful, 
 I did ponder long and tearful, 
 Over many a tough and tedious 
 
 Problem ot the covered way ; 
 And I labored, softly swearing, 
 Oft great locks of hair uptearing. 
 And my countenance was wearing 
 
 Old and harsh before my day ; 
 Growing bald and wearing old. 
 
 Thus I was before my day, 
 
 O'er this fiendish covered way. 
 
 2. Still I struggled, often starting, 
 With my patience fast departing. 
 Drew a host of lines in error. 
 
 Then disgusted looked away; 
 And as I looked, still bent on knowing, 
 I saw from out the darkness growing. 
 Two fierce eyes like fire coals glowing, 
 
 Gloioing with looks that seemed to say : 
 " Give up W^Y work, lay down thy pen. 
 
 Permanent works did never pay," 
 
 These glowing eyes did seem to say. 
 
 3. In my chair there, boldly turning, 
 Face to face I met those burning 
 Ej'es, that did bespeak such learning 
 
 Of those things which do not pay; 
 And beheld no vision flitting, 
 But to those orbs a strangely fitting 
 Form of demon, calmly sitting, 
 
 Sitting in my chimney way, — 
 Bolt upright on candle-box. 
 
 There he sat without dismay, 
 
 And on his front was writ " Noizet." 
 
37 
 
 4. Much and deep I speculated 
 Wliy this demon so elated, 
 
 And Tvith importance so inflated, 
 
 Dared to thus intrude this -^ay; 
 Then demanded "svhat his game "?vas; 
 And hOTv high and great his fame vrsis, 
 And would he tell me -what the name "^as 
 
 "Which they gave him far away? 
 How he dared, and what his 
 
 Xame was in the region without day? 
 
 And the demon said, " Xoizet." 
 
 5. Xow methought from off my paper 
 Up arose a sulphurous vapor, 
 
 A yellow, light, and odorous vapor, 
 
 Lifted up and rolled away. 
 Then did darkest fears assail me, 
 And "boldness did no more avail me, 
 And aU my courage 'gan to fail me, — 
 
 Fail me in this tragic play, — 
 In this midnight, solemn, quiet. 
 
 And strangely mystic sulphurous play, 
 
 "With demon here named " Xoizet." 
 
 6. But the demon quick assured me 
 
 That my conscience should have cured me 
 Of such idle, causeless fears, 
 
 Fears that turn the hair to gray ; 
 That he came with social feeling, 
 From the realm of bodies annealing, 
 Up to have some honest dealing, — 
 
 Dealing in the land of day; 
 That he sought a boon companion. 
 
 In the glorious land of day, 
 
 Did this demon, this " Xoizet." 
 
 T. Much I mused, this demon Frenchman, 
 This cunette fiend, the former tienchman, 
 Thus to hear discourse so glihl}-, 
 
 In faultless English of to-day. 
 And I said, " How is't, retainer 
 Of the devil and profaner 
 Of bright youth, thou art abstainer 
 
 From thine own tongue, light and gay. 
 Doth abstain from thine own language 
 
 And in English sing thy lay? " 
 
 But the Demon would not say. 
 
 8. "How 'scaped thou then," I asked, " those regions 
 Guarded by ten thousand legions. 
 Demon legions without mercy, 
 
 VTho do never sing and pray? 
 And if thou hast, thou arch defender, 
 Aught of news or good to tender, 
 Or of service, do it render, 
 
 Render now without delay. 
 Xews tl^ou hast ? Then haste to tender. 
 
 Tender quick and get away." 
 
 Then the demon, " This I say :" 
 
38 
 
 9. " In those regions down "below 
 I freely come and freely go, 
 For my work in life, above ground, 
 
 Doth absolve me there for aye. 
 So, leave thy work now, I invite thee, 
 And on the shores of darkness (a) light thee, 
 And on those black shores I'll requite thee. 
 
 And we'll throw our cares away. 
 Cease thy swearing and hair tearing. 
 
 And I'll charm thy cares away." 
 
 Thus the demon, named Noizet. 
 
 10. " Demon," said I, half persuaded. 
 
 My question thou hast not evaded, 
 And thy kindly invitation 
 
 Doth my mind right strongly sway ; 
 But tell me, in that happy place. 
 Do they use the bastion face? 
 Do they find the ravelin trace, 
 
 Ravelin trace and covered way? 
 Have they there a caponniere. 
 
 And a ravelin covei'ed way? " 
 
 Quoth the demon, " Why not, pray? " 
 
 11. " Demon," howled I, no longer tempted. 
 
 From further talk thou art exempted; 
 Get thee back into those regions, 
 
 Unto the place where is no day ; 
 Let thy presence leave no vapor, 
 Of this fiendish midnight caper. 
 Leave untarnished still my paper, 
 
 Seek some other youth to slay, — 
 Get thy form from oflf my box, 
 
 Seek some other youth to slay." 
 
 Quoth the demon, Not to-day." 
 
 12. And the demon, nothing fearing. 
 Still is peering, still is leering 
 On me from my candle-box. 
 
 And my friends across the way, 
 Coming over to console me, 
 And for my lost love to condole me, 
 Or on my punishment conjole me, 
 
 Seeing him do haste away ; 
 And in my dreams this demon seems 
 
 To laugh at those who haste away, 
 
 And whisper soft, '* Some other day." 
 
 Note. — Muggins. Demon on candle-box at Sunday morning inspection.'* 
 " 30 confinements." 
 
MKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES 
 
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