Dave Darrins First Year at Annapolis | Page 9

cadet petty officer in
charge of them. "In the new up-to-date Naval Academy there are now
more than one thousand regulations. You are all expected to appreciate
this merciful decrease in the number of things you are required to
remember."
There were also two periods of drill, that afternoon, and what-not more.
Supper came as a merciful release. When the meal was over, while
many of the upper class men remained outside in the warm June air, the
plebes were ordered to go to their rooms and start in making
themselves familiar with the thousand-and-more regulations.
"Thank goodness they give us some time for light reading," muttered
Dan Dalzell, as he stalked into his room, hung up his uniform cap and
sank into a chair. "Whew! What a day this has been!"

"I've rather enjoyed it," murmured Dave, as he sank into the chair on
the opposite side of the study table.
"Huh! You have liberal ideas, then, about enjoyment. How many
hundred rules are you going to commit to memory tonight?
"I don't know," returned Dave. "But I do know that my head is in a big
whirl, and that I'm going to rest it for a few minutes. By the way, Dan,
there's one thing I hope you remember."
"What is that?" demanded Dalzell.
"What did they tell us this lower deck was named?"
"Dunno," grunted Dan. "But I have my own name for it. I call it the
pinochle deck."
"I'm afraid 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