During the night preceding the obsequies a guard of honor of the plebes, fantastically dressed, kept a running watch over the fast-stiffening rodent. Next day, after drill, came the funeral. Orders were issued by the upper-classmen for all plebes to attend and for those having musical instruments to appear with them. One plebe was detailed to act as chaplain and prepare the funeral oration, another as leader of the band, another as chief mourner. The remainder of the plebes were the afflicted relatives whose weeds were the most bizarre and fantastic costumes that they could create. In the procession, therefore, were plebes in underdrawers and dress coats buttoned in the rear, hats reversed, breeches with no shoes, shoes without breeches, ponchos over nature only, and sometimes _in puris naturalibus_. Each mourner, moreover, came with a galvanized bucket to catch his tears. First appeared the band composed of mandolins and guitars, a stray violin, and perhaps a lonely cornet, followed by the deceased borne upon a canvas stretcher strewn with dandelions. To the tune of Chopin’s funeral march, the grotesquely arrayed mourners followed the bier, chanting from time to time a parody written for the music and entitled “Somebody Hit Me with a Codfish Ball!” At a signal from the chief mourner the cortège halted to allow the plebes to deliver themselves with abandon to their grief. By order, they raised the galvanized buckets to catch the “tears that stopped the flood-gates of their eyes,” while they filled the air with agonized mournings and lamentations. If the sobbing and blubbering appeared too faint, the upper-classmen who lined the route increased the wailings by yelling, “Weep louder, you plebes!” At the grave, somewhere in the rear of the camp, the “chaplain,” “Daddy” Singles, spoke feelingly of the departed one’s nobility of soul. The gnawing grief of the multitude gave way once more to despair (and usually to laughter) as they lowered into the ground poor old Mr. Rat, whose rigid whiskers gave him an amused expression, as if he were enjoying his honorable end. * * * * * After two months’ training in camp, the cadets return to barracks to begin their academic duties. At once, all nonsense ceases, and the new cadet is in no wise interfered with, even in fun. The routine changes completely and the day becomes fuller. Reveille is a half hour later, but the work increases and there are fewer leisure moments.