In the eyes of the yearling corporal, a plebe is habitually wrong, so that for a few trying minutes the benighted sentinel endeavors to “take charge of his post and all government property in view,” while his preceptor picks him to pieces, his bearing, his accoutrements, his knowledge, admonishing him at intervals, to “Drag in his chin--way in.” But soon, the solitude of the night begins to work even upon the yearling corporal constraining him to indulge in a partial intimacy with the plebe, adding in softened tones: “Mister, where are you from?” “South Carolina, sir,” proudly responds the sentinel, touched by the upper-classman’s near-cordiality. With a gruff “Pretty fine State, mister,” the corporal virtuously departs to interrogate his next victim. How welcome now is the first faint tread of the relief as it makes its bi-hourly round to take the sleepy sentinel back to the guard tent where a bed of camp stools awaits his aching muscles. * * * * * The tour of guard of a new cadet is sometimes made uncomfortable by the pranks of the upper-classmen, although since the abolition of hazing at West Point, this form of diversion has greatly diminished. The regulations against hazing have been made so stringent that few cadets indulge in the practice. As a matter of fact hazing no longer exists at the Military Academy. A few heedless chaps from time to time, forgetful of the future, unconscious of the heartburns that they will suffer later on, indulge in hazing the plebes, but they pay the price for their fun. Formerly, hazing was tolerated among the cadets because some of its features were not harmful or objectionable, but, as in all cases where a little liberty is granted to lads of immature judgment, license followed. The practice was carried too far and moderation ceased to exist. In 1901, at the instance of a former cadet’s parents, Congress ordered an investigation of hazing conditions, with the result that the Superintendent was directed to abolish all semblance of mistreatment of plebes by upper-classmen.