The Free lance. (State College, Pa.) 1887-1904, December 01, 1896, Image 15

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    18096.]
emy Register would put it, Cadet James Malcolm Lawler, of Mary
land, was a third-year man at "the Point," and, if the young
ladies had only known it, was even now on the " Mary Powell "
returning from his furlough. With three of his classmen he was
down in his stateroom engaged in a small game. Whether or not
this game related to the art of war as taught at the Military Acad
emy we leave the reader to judge. Certain it is that it was a
patriotic game, for various red, white and blue arrangements were
continually changing hands.
There is an old saying that if people are talking about you your
ears burn. Now while it is not certain that Mr. Lawler's ears
troubled him, yet it is certain that he felt the need of more air,
and so gave up his hand at the game to stroll tip on the deck and
straightway run upon his friend, Mary Langton.
" Why, Mr. Lawler, where under the sun did you come
from ?" exclaimed that young lady, half starting from her seat in
surprise; then, before he has time to answer her, " Let me pre
sent you to my cousin, Bess Alexander."
Although a little flushed by the suddenness of it all, Lawler
finds himself telling Miss Alexander that he has heard Miss Lang
ton speak so much of her that he almost feels that he knows her,
a fact to which Miss Bessie replies that she can almost say the
same, which makes Miss Langton blush rosy red. And then they
fall into easy conversation, as is the habit of the young people of
the 19th century. Miss Langton tries hard to make her friends
like each other.
Lawler is attracted very strongly by the fresh young Western
beauty, and when he hears that she comes from the army, he too,
does his best to please and puts his best foot forward. So well
does he succeed that when the time comes for him to leave the
boat at Garrisons he has extracted a promise from Miss Bess to
come up to " the Point " for the Junior hop, and she—well, she
admits that Mr. Lawler, even in " cits," sans his bell buttons, is
a very interesting young man, indeed.
West Point on the eve of graduation day. The last examina
tions have been successfully passed and the time is rapidly ap
proaching when some fifty young men will joyously doff the cadet
gray and don the army blue. It is almost time for the last
parade, the most solemn ceremony of the cadets' four years.
Groups of pretty girls, nattily dressed, handsome matrons and
Mars and Venus.