PREAMBLE.—Should any member of the academic staff be so overcome by the refining nature of the performance as to feel a desire to sign the temperance pledge, he will find one in the cupboard of a little room in rear of the dining room of the officers’ mess. When a cadet expected to “cut a meal,” that is, not go to the Mess Hall for it, or when he wanted a lunch between meals, he would butter a breakfast roll or two pieces of bread, fold the lunch in his handkerchief and put it in the breast of his coat, and then throw his shoulders forward to hide it, so as not to be reported for carrying food from the Mess Hall. In winter I often carried a roll to my room and put it on the steam coil under the marble slab. The heat melted the butter and made a luscious evening lunch. Whenever a cadet had not provided a lunch for himself and he wished to attend a “fight” at Fort Clinton a classmate would bring him something from the Mess Hall. Once in a while some of the cadets would try their hands at cooking; they would get such articles of food from the Mess Hall as they could conceal about their clothes and other articles from the Dutch Woman’s, and after taps put a blanket up to cover the window, attach one end of a rubber tube to the gas jet and the other to a burner under a pot or pan, using candles for light. About the time the dainty dish, called “hash,” was ready the invited guests would arrive, and then such a feast. Once in a while an unexpected visitor in the form of a tactical officer would happen around, and then such scampering; the unlucky ones always paying dearly for the fun by walking “extras” on Saturday afternoons. There were two of my classmates who lived together, and one of them was a famous cook, but they were both “found” in January, and the one who was not the cook told me that he himself would not have been found had he not had a cook for a room-mate. The paraphrase, by T⸺n of the class of 18—, gives a good account of “a cadet hash” and the results following it: A CADET HASH—(With Apologies to “The Raven.”) Once upon a morning dreary, Whilst I pondered sad and weary, Over the remains of cooking And the grease upon the floor, Suddenly there came a tapping, As of Kent or Piper rapping, Rapping at my chamber door; Only this and nothing more. What I said I will not mention When I heard the “stand attention” Coming from my chamber door. Up I jumped nor word did utter, As with many a snuff and splutter, Came the giant form of Henry Gazing at my greasy floor; Only this and nothing more. And behind him came a creature, Human as to form and feature, Whom I recognized as Jakey, Gazing, too, upon my floor. When I heard this creature vicious Putting on a smile malicious, Mutter, “You’ve been having cooking, That is what has greased your floor.” Only this and nothing more.