THE "BAZOO" MAKES TROUBLE
"Sir, the brigade is formed," reported the brigade adjutant, the
next day, as the midshipmen stood in ranks, ready to march into
the mess hall.
"Publish the orders," directed the cadet commander.
Then the brigade adjutant rattled off the orders, reading them
in a quick monotonous voice.
"For coolness, judgment and remarkable bravery displayed in an
accident encounter in the sinking and foundering of a sailboat
under his command, which accident was not any way due to his own
negligence or incapacity--"
Dave started, then crimsoned, as the brigade adjutant continued
reading:
"Midshipman David Darrin, fourth class, is hereby specially commended,
and his conduct is offered as an example to all his comrades in
the brigade of midshipmen."
A moment later the crisp marching orders rang out, and the brigade
was marching in by classes.
Dave's face was still flushed, his blood tingling somewhat. It
was pleasing, doubtless, to be thus reviewed in orders, but Dave
was not unduly elated.
In the Navy, though courage may sometimes be mentioned in orders,
not much fuss is made over it. All officers and men in the Navy
are expected to be brave, as a matter of course and of training.
Dan, in fact, was more pleased over that one paragraph in orders
than was his chum.
"Of course everyone in the Navy must brave," thought Dalzell,
to himself. "But old Dave will always be one of the leaders in
that line."
In accordance with custom a copy of the order giving Darrin special
commendation was mailed to his father, as one who had a right
to know and to be proud of his son's record at the Naval Academy.
Not a doubt was there that the senior Darrin was proud! So many
of the elder Darrin's friends were favored with a glimpse of the
official communication received from Annapolis that the editor
of the Gridley "Blade," heard of it. Mr. Pollock asked the privilege
of making a copy of the official communication, which contained
a copy of the paragraph in orders.
Mr. Pollock, however, was not contented with publishing merely
a copy of the official communication from the Naval Academy authorities.
The editor printed a column and a half, in all reminding his
readers that Midshipman Darrin was one of a recently famous sextette
of Gridley High School athletes who had been famous as Dick &
Co. Not only did Dave receive a flattering amount of praise in
print. Dan came in for a lot of pleasant notice also.
Dave received a marked copy of that issue of the "Blade." He
fairly shivered as he read through that column and a half.
"Danny boy," shuddered Darrin, passing the "Blade" over to his
roommate, "read this awful stuff. Then help me to destroy this
paper!"
Dan Dalzell read the column and a half, and reddened, grinning
in a sickly sort of way.
"Just awful, isn't it?" demanded Midshipman Dalzell.
"Awful?" muttered Darrin uneasily. "Why that doesn't begin to
describe it. If any upper class man should see that paper--"
"He won't see this copy," proclaimed Dan, beginning to tear the
offending issue of the "Blade" into small bits.
In the parlance of Annapolis the newspaper from a midshipman's
home town is known as the "Bazoo." Now, the "Bazoo" has an average
inclination to print very flattering remarks about the local
representative at Annapolis. While the home editor always means this
as pleasant service, the detection of flattering articles by any
upper class man at Annapolis always means unpleasant times for the
poor plebe who has been thus honored in the columns of the "Bazoo."
The torn bits of the Gridley "Blade" were carefully disposed of,
but Dave still shivered. Through a clipping agency, or in some
other mysterious way, upper class men frequently get hold of the
"Bazoo."
Four days passed, and nothing happened out of the usual.
On the evening of the fifth day, just after the release bell had
rung, there was a brief knock at the door. Then that barrier
flew open.
Midshipmen Jones, Hulburt and Heath of the second class filed
gravely into the room, followed by Midshipmen Healy, Brooks, Denton,
Trotter and Paulson of the third class.
Dave and Dan quickly rose to their feet, standing at attention
facing their visitors.
With a tragic air, as if he were an executioner present in his
official capacity, Youngster Paulson held out a folded newspaper.
"Mister," he ordered Darrin, "receive this foul sheet. Unfold
it, mister. Now, mister, what depraved sheet do you hold in your
hands?"
"The Gridley 'Blade', sir," replied Darrin, his face crimsoning.
"The--_what_, mister?"
"Pardon me, sir--the Gridley 'Bazoo.'"
"Have you seen another copy of the 'Bazoo' lately, mister?"
"Yes, sir," admitted Dave, his face growing still redder.
"Ah! He saw it--and still he did not die of shame!" murmured
Second Class Man Jones.
"Shocking depravity!" groaned Midshipman Hurlburt.
"Since you have already scanned the 'Bazoo,'" resumed Midshipman
Paulson, "you will have no difficulty in finding the page, mister,
on which the editor of the 'Bazoo' sings his silly praise of you.
Turn to that page, mister."
Dave further unfolded the paper, coming to the page on which the
fearful article was printed. As he glanced at it Dave saw that
the article had been marked in blue pencil, and many of the paragraphs
numbered.
"Since you admit having read the 'Bazoo's' infamous article, mister,"
continued Midshipman Paulson, "tell us whether any of the scurrilous
charges therein are true?"
"The quotation from the official report, sir, being correct as
a copy, is bound to be true--"
"Official reports at the Naval Academy are always true," retorted
Paulson severely. "Proceed, sir, to the comments which the ink-slinger
of the 'Bazoo' has made concerning you. Mister, read the paragraph
numbered 'one.'"
In a voice that shook a trifle Dave read:
_"Dave Darrin is, beyond any question or cavil, one of the
brightest, smartest, bravest and most popular boys who ever went
forth into the world as a true son of old Gridley."_
"Mister," declared Paulson, "you may gloss over some of the slander
in those words by singing them to the tune of 'Yankee Doodle.'"
Dave flushed. There was a momentary flash in his eyes. Dan,
watching his chum covertly, was briefly certain that Darrin was
going to balk. Perhaps he would even fight.
True hazing, however, does not aim at cruelty, but at teaching a
new man to obey, no matter how absurd the order.
In another moment the grim lines around the corners of Dave's mouth
softened to a grin.
"Wipe off that ha-ha look, mister!" warned Youngster Paulson.
"I'll sing, gentlemen, if you think you can stand it," Dave promised.
"You'll sing, mister, because you've been ordered to do so," reported
Paulson as master of ceremonies. "Now, then, let us have that
paragraph to the air of 'Yankee Doodle.'"
Dave obeyed. To do him justice, he sang the best that he knew how,
but that wasn't saying much for quality. Dave had a good voice for
a leader of men, but a poor one for a singer.
Somehow, he got through the ordeal.
"Now, cast your eye on the paragraph marked as number two," directed
Mr. Paulson. "Mister, the 'Bazoo' in your left hand. Thrust
your right hand in under the front of your blouse and strike the
attitude popularly ascribed to Daniel Webster. No comedy, either,
mister; give us a serious impersonation, sir!"
This was surely rubbing it in, but Dave gave his best in attitude
and pose.
"Effective!" murmured Midshipman Jones. "Very!
"Superb!" voiced Mr. Hurlburt.
"Now, for the declamation, mister, of paragraph number two," commanded
Youngster Paulson.
In a deep voice, and with a ring that was meant to be convincing,
Dave read the paragraph:
_"Since a school consists of pupils as well as of instructors,
the brightest student minds may be said to make the life and history
of a famous school. It has been so with our justly famous Gridley
High School. Mr. Darrin, in the past, has aided in establishing
many of the traditions of the famous school that claims him as
her own son. The young man's heroism at Annapolis, under the
most exacting conditions, will surprise no one who knows either
Mr. Darrin or the splendid traditions that he helped establish
among the youth of his home town. In the years to come we may
look confidently forward to hearing the name of Darrin as one
of the most famous among the newer generation of the United States
Navy. David Darrin will always be a hero--because he cannot
help it."_
As Dave, his face flushing more hotly than ever, read through these
lines he was conscious of the jeering gaze of the upper class men.
He was interrupted, at times, by cries of fervid but mock admiration.
"I feel," announced Mr. Hurlburt, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief,
"that I am indeed honored in being one of the humbler students
at this great school on which our beloved comrade has shed the
luster of his presence."
"It seems almost profane to look at such a young man, except through
smoked glasses," protested Midshipman Heath.
"What's your name, mister?" demanded Midshipman Brooks.
"Darrin, sir," Dave answered, with the becoming meekness of a
fourth class man.
"Any relative of the Darrin mentioned in the elegy you have just
been reading?"
"I hope not, sir," replied Dave, fighting to stifle a grin, though
it was a sheepish one.
"Mister," stormed Midshipman Denton, "you are attempting to deceive
us!"
Dave gazed meekly but inquiringly at the last speaker.
"You are trying to evade the fact that you are the real Darrin,
the identical hero whom the 'Bazoo' so lovingly, so reverently
describes. Deceit fills your system, mister! You will stand
on your head long enough to let it run out of you."
Midshipman Paulson, though an inveterate "runner" of fourth class
men, had some regard for the dangers of overstaying the visit, and
kept his left eye on the time.
Darrin, standing on his head, became redder of face than ever,
for all the blood in his body seemed to be running downward.
At last he became so unsteady that twice his feet slipped along
the wall, and he had to return to his attitude of standing on
his head.
"Better let up on the beast, Paulson," murmured Midshipman Brooks.
"Yes," agreed Paulson. "The warning bell will go in a minute
more. Mister, on your feet!"
Dave promptly returned to normal attitude, standing respectfully
at attention.
"Mister," continued Paulson, "you will be allowed to retain this
marked copy of the 'Bazoo.' You are warned to keep it out of sight,
ordinarily, that none of the discipline officers may find it.
But you will continue to refer to it several times daily, until
you are sure that you have committed all of the marked paragraphs
to heart, so that you can reel them off in song or in declamation.
And you will be prepared, at all times, to favor any of the upper
class men with these selections, whenever called for. Good night,
mister!
"Good night, sir."
Dave returned the salutations of each of the departing visitors.
Just as Brooks, the last of the lot, was passing through the
doorway, the warning bell before taps sounded.
For a moment Dave Darrin, his face still red, stood behind the
closed door, shaking his fist after the departing visitors.
"Why didn't you shake your fist while they were in the room?" asked
Dalzell bluntly.
"That would have started a fight, as the least consequence," replied
Dave, more soberly.
"A fight, eh?" chuckled Dan. "Dave, I don't know what has come
over you lately. There was a time when you didn't mind fights."
"I have fought three times since coming here," Darrin replied
soberly.
"And I have fought seven times," retorted Dan.
"Puzzle: Guess which one of us was found the fresher," laughed
Darrin.
"I never thought you'd stand anything such as you've endured at
Annapolis, without pounding your way through thick ranks of fighters,"
mused Dalzell aloud. "Dave, I can't fathom your meekness."
"Perhaps it isn't meekness," returned Darrin, wheeling and looking
at his chum.
"If it isn't meekness, then what is it? And, Dave, you used to
be the hothead, the living firebrand of Dick & Co.!"
"Danny boy, if hazing has lived nearly seventy years at Annapolis,
then it's because hazing is a good thing for the seedling Naval
officer. I believe in hazing. I believe in being forced to respect
and obey my elders. I believe in a fellow having every grain
of conceit driven out of him by heroic measures. And that's
hazing--long may the practice live and flourish!"
"Why, what good is hazing doing you?" insisted Dalzell.
"It's teaching me how to submit and to obey, and how to forget
my own vanity, before I am put in command of other men later on.
Danny boy, do you suppose it has cost me no effort to keep my
hands at my trousers-seams when I wanted to throw my fists out
in front of me? Do you imagine I have just tamely submitted to
a lot of abuse because my spirit was broken? Danny, I'm trying
to train my spirit, instead of letting it boss me! Many and many
a time, when the youngsters have started to guy me unmercifully
I've fairly ached to jump in and thrash 'em all. But, instead,
I've tried to conquer myself!"
"I reckon you're the same old Dave--improved," murmured Midshipman
Dalzell, holding out his hand.