Dave Darrins First Year at Annapolis | Page 9

that won't do to repeat," laughed Dave.
At that moment the handle of the door was turned. Five upper class midshipmen entered, closing the door behind them. Then they stood there, glaring at the two poor plebes in "cit." clothes.

CHAPTER III
A TASTE OF HAZING
"Good evening, gentlemen," nodded Dave pleasantly, as he rose and stood by the study table, waiting to hear the pleasure of his visitors.
Dan Dalzell favored his callers with a nod, but remained seated, both hands thrust deep in his pockets.
"Get up on your feet, mister!" ordered one of the midshipmen, so sternly that Dan obeyed like a shot.
"Excuse me," he began hastily. "I didn't know you came here in an official capacity. I thought--"
"Silence, mister!" commanded another of the visitors. Dan subsided.
"What's your name, mister?" demanded the last speaker, as he favored Dave with his next glance.
"Why, my name is Dave Darrin," replied that plebe pleasantly.
"Say 'sir,' mister, when you address an upper class man. When asked your name, reply, 'Darrin, sir.'"
"Darrin, sir," replied Dave promptly.
"Stand at attention, both of you!" commanded another visitor.
Both plebes obeyed. Now still another caller wheeled upon Dan.
"What's your name, mister."
"Dan Dalzell."
"Dalzell--Sir!" thundered Dan's questioner.
"Dalzell, sir," Dan responded meekly enough.
"It is plain enough that both of you plebes need a good deal of practice in the use of the word, sir. Therefore, in your next answers, you will be careful to employ 'sir' after each word that you utter in your reply. Mister," to Dave, "what did you come to the Naval Academy for?"
"To, sir, become, sir, a sir, Naval, sir, officer. Sir."
"Very good, mister. Mister," to Dalzell, "why did you come here?"
"For sir, the same pur--"
"Sir, sir, sir, sir!" interrupted the quizzer. "Now, try again, mister."
"For, sir, the, sir, same, sir, purpose, sir."
"Now, mister," continued the quizzing visitor, transfixing Dalzell with a look of tremendous sternness, "can you talk French?"
Dan's eyes twinkled briefly.
"I don't know, sir. I never tried, sir," replied Dalzell, in pretended embarrassment.
For a moment it looked as though Dan had turned the tables of mischief upon his tormentors. His reply was so absurd that all of the upper class men, for a moment, betrayed signs of twitching at the corners of their mouths. Then all of them conquered the desire to laugh and returned to the inquest with added severity. The late questioner turned to one of his classmates, remarking scornfully:
"_Touge!_"
"Very touge, indeed" replied the one addressed.
A "touge" plebe, in Naval Academy parlance, is one who is wholly "fresh."
"Mister," continued Dan's quizzer, "we find you too full of levity for one who intends to embrace the profession of quarter-deck lounger. In our belief it will be necessary for you to let some new ideas soak into your head. Mister, get your wash basin and fill it exactly half full of water. Remember, mister--neither a drop nor less than exactly half full."
Dan's first impulse was to grin, his second to laugh. Yet something in the tone and look of the last speaker made "touge" Dalzell feel that the simplest way out of difficulty would be for him to obey as carefully and speedily as he could. So, with a hurried "very good, sir," Dalzell turned in quest of his basin. He brought it, just about half full, for the inspection of his imperious visitor.
"Place it there on the floor, beside the wall," ordered the tormentor
Dan obeyed.
"Now, mister, stand on your head in that water!"
Dan flushed hotly, for an instant. He even clenched his fists. Then, with a sudden rush of good sense to the head, he bent over to carry out the order that he had received.
It was not as easy a feat as might be supposed, even for a rather well trained and hardened athlete like Dan Dalzell.
He got his head into the bowl all right, and rested his hands on the floor on either side of the bowl. It was when he tried to throw his feet up against the wall that he came to grief. His feet slid along the wall and came down to the floor again.
Dan fell out of the bowl with a good deal of splash.
"If, at first, you don't succeed, mister," began Midshipman Trotter, who had constituted himself chief of the tormentors, "try, try some more."
"I'll make it, sir," responded Dan cheerily, and his very manner, now, inclined his tormentors to go a little more lightly with him.
At the third trial, with his eyes closed, just below the level of the water, Dalzell succeeded in standing very solidly on his head.
The upper class men, who were all third class men, or "youngsters" as they are unofficially termed, watched the performance with interest.
"Rather well done, for a beginner," commented Midshipman Trotter. "As you were, mister."
Dan, unfortunately, tried to be a bit "smart." He made a half somersault forward, trying to spring up on his