TOM WANTS TO BE COLONEL.
Had Tom been allowed to have his own way, he would have packed his
trunk and left the academy with the least possible delay. He was
already very much disappointed in it, for he had found it widely
different from what he imagined it to be. He had hoped that he should
find the students far below him in their studies, (although he
himself did not know how that could be possible,) so that he could,
without the least trouble or exertion, take his shoulder-straps and
assume the honors of an officer, without having any one to oppose
him. But the parade he had just witnessed had discouraged him, and
had also convinced him that if he expected to take a high position
among those sharp, lively students, he must work hard for it. He was
quite willing to believe what his friends had told him--that the
officers owed their positions not to the number of merit marks they
obtained, but to favoritism; and, after thinking the matter over, he
was induced to make a slight change in his programme. He had assured
his father that he would work hard for a commission, but that was
entirely unnecessary now, for his great object must be to secure
the good-will of the principal. Without that his efforts would be
utterly useless. But how should he accomplish this? The remark his
friend Rich had made, clearly pointed out the way, and he determined
to win the favor of the principal by playing the contemptible part
of tale-bearer. In order to further his designs, he desired to make
the acquaintance of the adjutant. He resolved to be with him as much
as possible, to listen to every word that fell from his lips, and,
if he could detect him in making any disrespectful remark about the
teachers or the academy, he would carry it straight to the colonel.
By this means, he was confident that he should be able to disgrace
the adjutant; and the principal, to reward him for keeping so close a
watch upon the interests of the academy, would certainly appoint him
in his stead.
“That will be the way to do it,” said Tom, delighted with the idea.
“Push yourself up in the world, even if you have to pull somebody
down in doing it. That’s my motto.”
A few moments serious consideration ought to have shown the new
student that his plan never could succeed. Suppose the principal did
break the adjutant! What chance was there for Tom to receive the
appointment, when he did not even understand the manual of arms? But
Tom did not stop to think of this. He wanted to be an officer, the
highest in rank in the academy; and, having decided upon the course
he ought to pursue in order to accomplish his object, he held to it
with the tenacity of a bull-dog.
Tom walked with his companions toward the gymnasium, and, as they
entered the building, the first object that attracted his attention
was the adjutant, who, having performed some evolutions on the
parallel bars, stood leaning against a post with his arms folded,
waiting to recover his breath after his violent exercise.
“Rich,” whispered Tom, “give me an introduction to that officer!”
“What, that Spooney?” exclaimed Rich, in surprise. “If that’s your
game, Newcombe, we might as well break ranks first as last. If you
are going to be friends with those fellows, we don’t want any thing
more to do with you. The set won’t like it.”
Under almost any other circumstances, Tom would have hesitated before
incurring the displeasure of Rich and his companions; but if he
accomplished the object he had in view, it would, he thought, more
than make amends for the loss of their friendship. So he replied:
“I don’t belong to the set yet, and I don’t care whether they like it
or not. I know what I am about.”
“So do I,” said Miller. “You’re going back on us; that’s what you are
about. I didn’t think that of you, Newcombe.”
“Better keep away from every one that wears a shoulder-strap,” said
Martin; “you’ll only get yourself into trouble if you do not.”
Tom, seeing that they were not disposed to assist him in making
the acquaintance of the adjutant, walked off, leaving his three
friends vexed and disappointed. They disliked the idea of his
becoming intimate with the young officer, for he was one whose
influence and example had won more than one student from the “set;”
and knowing that Tom could be easily led in any direction, besides
being unacquainted with the object he had in view, they feared that
they were about to lose him forever. It was too late to recall him,
however, for Tom walked straight up to the adjutant, who extended
his hand, saying:
“Your name is Newcombe, isn’t it? I thought so. I have heard of you,”
he continued, as he led the new student to a seat; “and a few moments
ago the colonel ordered me to take charge of you. I am to drill you
in the broadsword exercise. I know it isn’t exactly my place to act
the part of a drill-master, but I am comparatively a new student
here; and, as I am working for something higher, I want to improve
every opportunity to learn my duties.”
“You are working for something higher!” repeated Tom, in surprise.
“Why, I thought you were the highest officer in the academy.”
“O, no!” replied the adjutant, with a laugh. “A captain ranks me.
Look here!” he added, taking his coat down from a nail over his head,
“I have only one bar in my shoulder-strap, you see, while a captain
has two. I am only a first lieutenant.”
Upon hearing this, Tom thought that he had no desire to become
better acquainted with the adjutant. If he was nothing but a first
lieutenant, he might keep his position, and welcome. He did not want
it; he must have something higher. His next step must be to scrape an
acquaintance with some captain, and try his designs upon him. As he
arose to his feet, intending to act upon his resolve without delay,
an idea struck him; and, turning to the adjutant, who was somewhat
surprised at his strange behavior, he asked if the rank of captain
was the highest in the academy.
“O, no, not by a long way!” was the answer. “First comes the
colonel--that’s the principal, you know. If he wore a uniform, he
would have eagles in his shoulder-straps. But, as he never wears
any thing but citizen’s clothes, he allows the lieutenant-colonel
to sport the eagles. The lieutenant-colonel is the best scholar in
school, and the highest in rank. I tell you, it takes merit-marks,
and the hardest kind of study, to get that position. Every body is
working for it, but George Smith holds the honors and the eagles in
spite of us. Next comes the major. He’s the second best scholar, and
wears a silver leaf. Here comes the colonel now!” he continued, as a
tall, pale-looking youth advanced toward them. “He’s a fine fellow,
and I know you’ll like him.”
When the colonel came up, the new student was introduced to him; and,
when Tom saw the silver eagles he wore on his shoulders, he made up
his mind that he had got hold of the right man at last. The young
colonel appeared to be a very jovial fellow, and talked and laughed
at such a rate that Tom soon began to feel perfectly at home in his
company.
The hours from four until six in the afternoon were devoted to
recreation, and all the students were then off duty. No respect was
shown to rank during “play-time,” but the boys all met on a footing
of perfect equality. To the officers, especially, this was a season
of relief; for, being free from military restraint, they were at
liberty to throw off their assumed dignity, and mingle freely with
their companions. Tom, however, had not been at the academy long
enough to understand this, and he was astonished that one so high in
authority as was the colonel, should condescend to laugh and joke
with his inferiors. He thought that when he should be entitled to
wear the eagles, he would stand more on his dignity.
Tom could be a very pleasant companion if he chose, and, having
now laid his plans against the colonel, he exerted himself to the
utmost to work his way into his good graces. He resolved to carry
out his ideas immediately, and commenced by requesting the officer
to give him some instructions in his duties, hoping that he would
accidentally let fall some word derogatory to the character of the
academy or of the teachers. He watched him as closely as ever a cat
watched a mouse, but all in vain. The colonel uttered no expression
that could be used against him; but, on the contrary, he appeared to
be perfectly contented, and satisfied with every thing in and about
the academy. Finally, becoming weary of exercise in the gymnasium,
the colonel put on his coat and strolled about the grounds with Tom,
who, thinking that if any thing was said that would be of use to him,
it would be necessary to have a witness to prove the fact, managed to
keep the adjutant with him. The two officers, who, of course, never
imagined what was passing in Tom’s mind, good naturedly answered his
questions, gave him all necessary instructions, and not a little good
advice. While thus engaged, the ringing of a bell called them in to
supper.
“Now go to your dormitory and march down into the dining-room with
your company!” said the colonel. “Don’t forget what we have told you.
Study hard, obey all the rules and regulations, and go in strong for
a commission. I would like to see you an officer.”
“So would I,” said Tom to himself, as he ran up the stairs toward his
dormitory. “But I’ll bet I don’t study very hard for it. I know an
easier way to get it; and, if you don’t look out, Colonel Smith, I’ll
have those silver eagles on my shoulders in less than a month.”
When the students belonging to dormitory H had all assembled, they
were formed in line by a sergeant, and marched two abreast down
into the dining hall--a large room, in which there were spread a
sufficient number of tables to accommodate all the boys at once. When
Tom had been shown to the seat he was to occupy, he looked about him,
and discovered that his mess-table was but a short distance from the
one occupied by the officers. The lieutenant-colonel sat at the head
of the table, the major on his right hand, the ranking captain on
his left, and so on down to the foot. Tom thought that matters could
not have been arranged to suit him better, for, after listening a
moment, he found that, in spite of the clatter of knives and forks,
and the conversation going on all around him, he could distinctly
hear every word uttered by the lieutenant-colonel. The latter,
little dreaming how closely he was watched, talked and laughed with
the officers, but, to Tom’s disappointment and disgust, said not a
single word against either the teachers or the academy. This was very
discouraging, for Tom, having decided to be a colonel, wished to
assume the honors as soon as possible.
At length there was a lull in the conversation, and the major, who
had been closely examining his glass of milk, set it down before the
colonel, saying:
“Smith, don’t you believe there’s water in that milk? Just see how
blue it looks.”
The colonel took the glass, and holding it up to the light, slowly
turned it about, and finally, set it down on the table again, Tom all
the while closely watching his motions, and impatiently waiting for
his reply. It came at length, and the new student almost jumped from
his chair with delight.
“I know there is water in it,” said the colonel. “That milk-man is
swindling us. Let’s catch him some day, and duck him in the harbor.”
“That would be unofficer-like conduct,” said the major, “and a
court-martial would be the result.”
“O, hang your courts-martial,” said the colonel, who had engaged in
so many that he was really tired of them. “I wish such a thing wasn’t
known in this academy.”
Here the subject of the conversation was changed; but Tom, who had
listened almost breathlessly to every word of it, had, he conceived,
heard enough to warrant him in making an effort to dislodge the
colonel from his high position. The officer had said that there
was water in the milk, had proposed to duck the milk-man, and
had exclaimed, “Hang your courts-martial!” and, if that was not
speaking ill of the academy, Tom thought he would like to know what
was. Improbable as it may seem, he was highly elated, and he fully
expected that he would soon be occupying the chair at the head of
the officers’ table. If he was foolish, he was but a type of a large
class of boys--and men, too--who, upon equally insignificant grounds,
have reared just such great expectations.
Tom was hungry when he sat down to the table, but that had all
passed away now, for he had something better to occupy his mind. He
resolved to seek the principal immediately, and lay the matter before
him. So, pushing his chair back from the table, he was about to walk
out of the room, when a sergeant, belonging to his company, exclaimed:
“Newcombe, where are you going? Sit down!”
“I have business with the principal,” answered Tom, “and I am in a
great hurry to see him.”
“Well, it is not customary for students to go out in that
unceremonious manner,” said the sergeant. “We’ll all go before
long; but, if you want to go now, you’ll have to ask the
lieutenant-colonel’s permission.”
“I won’t do that!” said Tom to himself, as he reluctantly returned
to his seat at the table. “If I don’t request favors of him now,
he can’t ask them of me when I become colonel. I’ll fix you,” he
muttered, looking toward the sergeant, who, he thought, had addressed
him rather too abruptly. “I’ll take those stripes off your arm the
very first thing I do. You are not fit to be an officer.”
Tom was very indignant at being obliged to remain in his seat until
all the students had finished their suppers. It was a regulation
he did not like, neither could he see that it was of any use. As
soon as the colonel’s straps were on his shoulders, he would ask
the principal to abolish the rule. This, he thought, would serve
to render him very popular with the students, several of whom, he
noticed, having satisfied their appetites, were impatient at being
required to wait for their companions. They were not compelled
to wait long, however, for presently the order was given for the
students to return to their quarters. Tom’s company was the last
that marched out; and, as soon as they reached the dormitory, and
the command had been given to break ranks, Tom started below, to see
the principal.
“Newcombe!” shouted the sergeant, from the head of the stairs, “where
are you going?”
“I told you once before to-night that I wanted to see the principal,”
said Tom, impatient at being delayed.
“It is time to begin study, now,” said the sergeant. “Is your
business important?”
“Yes!” answered the new student; “it is very important.”
“Go ahead, then; but return as soon as you can, for I am responsible
for you now until you make your appearance in the school-room.”
“I’ll break that fellow the minute I am colonel,” said Tom, as he
hurried along the hall. “He sha’n’t be an officer any longer.”
Arriving at the principal’s apartment, he pounded loudly upon the
door; and, after a few moments’ delay, a voice from the inside bade
him enter. The new student opened the door, and found himself in the
presence of the principal, who greeted him with:
“Newcombe, this is a very unusual hour for a student to visit me. You
ought to be at work at your lessons.”
“I know it, sir,” replied Tom; “but I have something very important
to say to you.”
The principal did not exhibit the curiosity that the new student had
imagined he would, for he answered:
“I will listen to you this time, but hereafter, when you wish to see
me on business, you must do so when I visit your dormitory in the
morning. But what were you going to say?”
Tom’s expectations were considerable dampened by the stern, dignified
demeanor of the principal, and, for a moment, he wished that he
had never envied the colonel, for he began to fear that, perhaps,
his success was rather doubtful after all. But it was too late to
retreat; and, summing up all his courage, Tom replied:
“I have been informed, sir--the fact is, the lieutenant-colonel says
your milk-man puts water in the milk.”
The principal was evidently very much astonished at this revelation,
for he settled back in his chair, and looked at the new student
without speaking.
“Yes, sir; he said it!” continued Tom, who fancied that he saw
something encouraging in the principal’s look. “I heard him, and I
can bring plenty of witnesses to prove it. He also proposed to catch
the milk-man and duck him in the harbor; and when one of the boys
told him that he would be court-martialed if he did, he said, ‘Hang
your courts-martial.’ I don’t like to hear any body run down the
school; and if you will give me those eagles, I’ll make the boys stop
talking that way.”
Tom had reached the point at last. In so many words, he had requested
that the lieutenant-colonel might be broken, and the eagles given
to him. He imagined that he had done the principal a great kindness
in thus exposing an unworthy officer, and he hoped that the zeal he
had manifested in watching over the interests of the academy, would
insure him the coveted eagles. He fully expected that such would be
the result, for he did not see how it could be otherwise. If the
colonel wished to reward honest, well-meaning pupils, that was the
time to show it.
“Newcombe!” said the principal, sternly, “you have made a very bad
beginning. You have been in the academy scarcely three hours, and yet
you begin to carry tales. If you hoped to gain any thing by it, you
will be sadly disappointed. I will see you again tomorrow morning.
That will do, sir.”
Tom was utterly confounded. He had staked all his hopes on the result
of this interview with the colonel, and he had, indeed, been most
sadly disappointed. Choking back a great lump that seemed to be
rising in his throat, he picked up his cap, walked slowly out of the
principal’s room, and ascended to his quarters.