The other photograph had been taken the
moment after Sam's immersion in the tub. He could see his hands
clutching the rim, while his legs were widely separated in the air.
"It might be General Meriden as well as me," he cried joyously. "Nobody
could tell the difference."
"That's so," said Smith.
"I shall always carry them next my heart," said Sam. "How can I thank
you enough? I am sorry that I can't black your boots this week."
"Oh! never mind," said Smith magnanimously, looking down at his feet.
"Cleary does them pretty well. You'll be out before long."
When Sam was discharged from the hospital the cadet corps had struck
camp and gone into barracks for the year. The summer maidens, too, had
fled, and East Point soon settled down to the monotony of winter work.
Every cadet looked forward already to the next summer: the first class
to graduation; the second to the glories of first-class supremacy in
camp and ballroom; the third class to their two months' furlough as
second-class men; but the fourth class had happier anticipations than
any of the rest, for they were to be transformed in June from "beasts"
into men, into real third-class cadets, with all the rights and
privileges of human beings. Sam's dream was also irradiated with the
hope of winning the affections of the fair Miss Hunter, to whom he had
never addressed a word, but of whose interest he felt assured.
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