Little by little, during the summer encampment, as soon as the newness of his surroundings begins to wear away, he finds himself undergoing a change of heart; he experiences a new feeling and appreciation of his work and a sort of exhilaration of discovering the progress that he is making in his daily tasks. For example, instead of going out to parade in a dazed and mechanical manner, he marches forth filled with pride that he is really a member of so _élite_ a Corps. He strives to do his bit with all his might. He lends a close attention to all commands so that no act of his will mar the appearance of his company, and does his utmost to assume the correct position of a soldier that is incessantly dinned into his ears by the ever alert file closers. He feels that he is changing, but does not understand just how. In reality his point of view is swinging around, it is clearing up, and the new cadet is beginning to be animated with the spirit of West Point. The scales seem to drop from his eyes. He is no longer concerned so completely with his troubles and difficulties, with his inability to get into his white trousers without mussing them badly, with his capacity for doing “wooden” things, or with all of the thousand and one little heartburns for things done and left undone. On the contrary, the incidents of his surroundings that are unrelated to himself begin to interest him. With quiet amusement he watches the antics of the yearlings, envying them their careless nonchalant air. His heart goes out in sympathy to some fellow plebe who has just incurred the displeasure of an upper-classman. He secretly admires the military bearing of the cadet officers, the fit of their blouses, their erect and graceful carriage. To him they represent the ideal in the flesh toward which he is striving. There is a certain something about the manner in which they perform their duties that inspires the plebe to extra efforts. In the hope of receiving a word of praise from the cadet captain at inspection before parade, an extra rub is given to the rifle or breastplate, and more care is taken in climbing into those stiff white trousers. He listens with the greatest interest to the chatter about the approaching Academic term and accepts with gratitude the counsels sometimes offered him by the cadet captain. As the camp draws to a close, not only the captain but all of the upper-classmen give the plebe gratuitous advice about the coming Academic year. At every formation while awaiting the sounding of the assembly, little groups gather in the company streets and interrogate the plebes as to their previous mental training. A note of restlessness begins to pervade the camp as the month of September draws nigh. Once again the books must be taken down from the shelves and hours of study devoted to the solution of problems.