"Keep out of all dark ways, Mr. Renwick. You can have the Lord's help every time and all the time, on those terms." Renwick looked at him again. "Well, that's the first time I ever heard of getting through West Point _so_," he said. "Tiptop way, you'll find," said Magnus. "And that is your whole list of directions?" "Finished up with the first one: dig! You must work like all the beavers between whiles, or you'll never have the face to pray such prayers." "I heard you were odd," was Renwick's comment. "And now you think the half wasn't told you. Sound doctrine, nevertheless." "But mathematics!" said the boy; "and natural philosophy! and Spanish!" "Know them all through now, don't you?" said Magnus; "and so want no help." "No, no, sir! of course not. But I mean--Mr. Kindred, do all the head men get to the top of the class your way?" "Probably not." "Then why do you lay it out for me?" "Only sure way I know." "To push me up head?" "To put you somewhere where it's worth while for a man to stand," said Magnus. "You might come out head--and be a disgrace to the service. You might go down before French twistifications, get dropped--and live to bless the country some other way." "I thought you meant I should be sure to graduate," said Renwick, disappointed. "There's but one thing sure." And rising to his feet, Cadet Kindred chanted out a scrap of an old hymn. "Looking off unto Jesus, I go not astray: My eyes are on him And he shows me the way. The path may seem dark As he leads me along; But following Jesus, I cannot go wrong." "Does it ever seem dark to you, sir?" Renwick said wistfully. "Lots of times." "It is so hateful here," the boy burst forth; "the place, and the drills, and the cadets, and everything!" "Yes, isn't it!" said Magnus heartily. "I have felt just so. Why, there are days when I should like to shoot the cadets, burn down the barracks, pitch all those old study books into the blaze, and tie the Tacs within roasting distance." The two looked at each other, and then both broke into a laugh. "Splendid old place, isn't it?" said Mr. Kindred. "And the drills are as good as the rack for stretching a man. And the cadets aren't much worse than the rest of the world. You and I are two of them. Come on! Let's go take a look at the flag. That always puts me to rights when I turn sour. 'Hail, Columbia, happy land!' and West Point is part of it." "The sweet red, white, and blue, The brave red, white and blue, Has done so much for me, And done so much for you." LII THE BIG RECEPTION When shall I come to the top of that same hill? ----You do climb up it now; look how we labour. --SHAKESPEARE.