Military Training Camp for Business and Professional Men (Plattsburgh, N.Y.); Military education -- Fiction; New York (State) -- Fiction
So I brought it from the Y. M. C. A. Now the topography of the camp is
thus. Just within the enclosure, and parallel with the street outside,
runs the officers' street, their tents along one side of it, each with
its little sign bearing the occupant's name. From the other side, toward
the drill ground and the lake, lead away the company streets with double
rows of khaki tents facing each other. All were on a thin and barren
soil, where between the tents some few weeds straggled, while everywhere
else men's feet had killed all growth. No! For in front of one of the
tents, under the protection of its ropes, grew a half-dozen thrifty pansy
plants, all in bright bloom. But elsewhere all was brown sand that looked
as if it might blow dust in clouds, but which also, I was glad to see,
looked as if it might absorb all ordinary rains. The street, about midway
of its length, rose a little, then dropped, and straddling this ridge I
found Tent 8, in the best possible position should the weather turn wet.
As I entered, stooping, I peered about the shadowed interior.
The dry floor was ploughed into holes and ridges by the feet of the last
occupants. One man, bearded and grizzled, was sitting on a cot in one
corner, exploring the interior of a big blue canvas bag; a professor or
doctor person, who gave me one keen glance, briefly said "Good day," and
went on with his occupation. A second bed, already neatly set up and
equipped, stood in another corner. Its owner, lithe and keen, a fellow of
about twenty-five, was watching a third, man-sized but boy-faced, who was
struggling with a cot in its chrysalis stage, being apparently quite
unable to unfold it. I knew the lad at a glance, young David Ridgway
Farnham 3d, whose cousin Walter was in my class, to whom I was best man,
as you remember, some five years ago. Now young David has been the
laughing stock of the family, spoiled with riches and an indulgent mamma.
Walter told me that many tutors, on princely salaries, just managed to
get him through Harvard this year. And here he was at Plattsburg!
However, he couldn't know me, so I disposed my things in a corner.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account