I work with fury and delight, because I must get on, and I do get
on.
--BARON BUNSEN.
Morning by morning now the shortening roll of days makes part of the
cadet breakfast.
"Ninety-nine days to June!"
"Ninety-eight days to June!"
"Ninety-seven days to June!"
And all listen, and every heart takes a lighter bound. Ask any man,
from now on, what is the news, and the odds are that you will get for
answer:
"Ninety-six days to June!"--or forty-six, as the case may be. I had a
note once from a cadet, dated:
"Barracks. Sixty-four days to June!"
But then he forgot to sign his name. That did not matter.
* * * * *
It is a strong pull, each man for himself, for the next three months;
a sort of individual "tug of war." I think Magnus had never worked so
hard in all the time he had been at West Point. Perhaps chemistry and
wave motion had something to do with this, for our hero was no genius.
Nothing but honest work carried him on. Higher thoughts than of rank
lit up the musty pages, and made music for the dull company drills.
Truly he was not unmindful of the charms of an engineer post for
Cherry; but several born mathematicians stood between him and any hope
of that. Yet all he _could_ do, he would. The honour of the Christian
name, no less than Cherry's sweet life, was in his trust, to dim or
to brighten; and no man should ever adorn the tale with the name of
Charlemagne Kindred, when saying that religion spoiled men, and should
be left to women and children.
So Magnus had his own secret joy over every high mark. Never had he
enjoyed "maxing it," as he did that winter, and never had he done it so
often.
Some years ago, when the graduating class received their Bibles, and
Dr. Wm. M. Taylor made the presentation address, he bade every man
cull from his morning reading--no matter how brief it was--a sort
of rose-in-the-buttonhole word for the day. Something like that our
young cadet had learned to do. Nothing had hindered his daily reading
since furlough, hard as it seemed to spare the minutes, some days,
when work was unusually pressing. But perhaps that very pressure
taught him to dive right into the meaning of what he read; catch up
a message, and bear it away. Now a promise, now a precept, now a
prayer; a breath of joyous hope, a gleam of unearthly glory. That real
rose-in-the-buttonhole which dress coats and blouses may never wear,
would have drooped in the drill, fainted in the section room, and been
lost in the tan bark. But it seemed to Magnus as if his invisible
blooms grew only fairer as the day went on. The fragrance was royal, as
it came and went in such variety.
"Hopeth all things, endureth all things."--
"Ye are my witnesses, saith the Lord."--
"Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as unto the Lord, and not unto
men."--
"Nevertheless, the Lord stood by me."--
Nobody knew all this; few people read the signs; though they did
note the high marks, and could say that "Kindred" (in his own way)
was the gayest man in barracks. But I fear they deemed him a crank,
all the same. Rig would look up at the clatter caused by "Analytical
Mechanics," as it struck the corner of the room; and then see Magnus
with an odd smile on his face make a rush for the obnoxious volume, and
plunge into it again with all his might. "Studying like mad," as his
easy-going comrade phrased it; but Magnus only called it "heartily."
Or in the section room, with his wits gone a wool gathering, and his
ideas in May-day confusion; every thought he had, tangled up with those
last letters from home; desperately tempted to "bugle it," and let some
other man bear the brunt; then the sweet "royal law" he was wearing
that day gave its counsel, and braced him at once to do the right
thing. He would answer, ready or unready, when his turn came. No man
stumbled or doubted the truth of religion, because of any section-room
meanness or selfishness on the part of Charlemagne Kindred.
And so an unwelcome order, from perhaps a disagreeable man, turned
round in the wind and came first (for him) as the Lord's command. "Obey
them that have the rule over you, and submit yourselves." You will
easily guess that Cadet Kindred remained high in discipline.
And later on, first in studies also? No, by no means. Willet's Point
never showed its head on the horizon; the leaders in the class were not
men to be dislodged. And some studies came hard. Then (and now perhaps
it is well I am far away from some of my friends) Cadet Kindred would
have nothing to do with "ponies." Those seductive little frauds looked
just as enticing, maybe, to him as to other men; but common sense and
loyalty made him let them alone.
"Common sense--for what am I here for," he answered Rig one day, "but
to tread the paths of learning? And that does not mean going pony-back."
"You can sort of line out the ground, you know," Rig said; "and then
wear out your shoes all you want to at San Carlos."
San Carlos! What visions came with the name. For a moment Rig's face
showed through a golden haze.
"But besides," Magnus went on, bringing his thoughts back, "it's not
doing things 'heartily.' The Lord gave me this appointment to make just
the most out of it I could. I cannot look up to Him from a 'pony,' and
say I have learned my lesson."
"But the Bible says, He always helps those that help themselves,"
remarked Rig.
"No, it doesn't; not the first word. You have borrowed some man's
'pony' for that. It says 'Fear not, for I will help thee,'--" and
Magnus plunged into his lesson again. The Divine strength that is
trusted in, is a wonderful power; and Cadet Kindred pushed on and
pushed up, every now and then took some other man's scalp, and never
lost his own.
And he found the Sunday rest a great thing. Broken in upon, indeed, by
a guard-mounting and parade; by police calls, inspection, and now and
then guard duty; but between whiles full of quiet time to think.
It was such a pleasure to pile up the study books Saturday night, and
leave the dark mass untouched till Monday morning. It took faith--a
good deal--in some crises of work, but it paid well. The free time was
so good. Not hours snatched unlawfully, but taken of right, according
to that most wise and blessed law of the Lord: "In it thou shalt not do
any work."
In fine weather Magnus kept himself much out of doors, letting the dust
of the week clear all away from eyes and heart and brain, till the
balance of things, so often confused in the weekday rush, swung steady
and true once more.
"I don't see how you do it, Kin," said Randolph one day. "Do you run a
light after taps?"
"Never," said Magnus. "I study all I can Saturday, and as early as I
can Monday morning."
"Always ready for eight o'clock?"
"I will not say the details are always just as clear as they were on
Saturday, but then my head is so much clearer. I get along, somehow."
"Well, I should say you did!" commented Rig. "Maxing it every blessed
day last week."