"
There being no "business," the time was taken up with speeches
from several plebes who wanted to be heard. The subject of their
treatment by the yearlings came in for much attention. Many of the
speakers expressed burning indignation at the "small show"
accorded to the plebe class.
"Hasn't our president something to say on this subject?" called
some one.
"I shall be glad to speak on this very matter," smiled Cadet
Prescott, rising. "Gentlemen of the class, I know that we are
traveling over a road that, even under the most genial conditions,
would be a rough one. Many of us feel that the yearling class is
devoting all its energies to making that road a still rougher one."
"Hear! Hear!" cried a dozen at once.
"But, gentlemen," continued the new class president, "next June
we shall be yearlings. There will be a new lot of plebes here, and I
feel rather certain that we shall treat them just about as we are now
being treated."
There were murmurs of dissent at this.
"For generations," continued Cadet Prescott, "the plebe at West
Point has had to rough it. You are all familiar with the truism that
a soldier must learn to obey before he is fit for command.
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