About four-
fifths of them were never on a horse in their lives,
and hence what dire expectations hover over their
ordinarily placid heads! They have heard from the
upper classmen what trials the novice experiences
in his first efforts, and they do not go to the
riding-hall without some dread. Four o'clock and ten
minutes. The drum is beaten.
Officer of the Day.--Form your platoon! Right, face!
Call your roll!
Section Marcher.--Bejay! Barnes! Du Furing!
Swikeheimer! Du Flicket, etc.
Platoon (answering to their names).--Here! Here-re-
re! ho-o-o! hi-i-i! har-ar-ar! Heer-r!
Section Marcher (facing about salutes).--All are
present, sir!
Officer of the Day (returning salute).--March off
your platoon, sir!
Section Marcher (facing about).--Left face! forward.
March! (Curtain falls.)
ACT II.
SCENE I.
The riding-hall, a large, spacious, rectangular
structure, door on each side and at each end,
floor well covered with tan bark, spacious
gallery over each side door, staircases outside
leading to them. Galleries are occupied, one by
ladies, and, perhaps a number of gentlemen, and
the other by enlisted men usually. In the centre
of the hall are a number of horses, each equipped
with a surcingle, blanket, and watering bridle.
A soldier stands at the head of each one of them.
As curtain rises enter platoon by side door, and
marches around the left flank of the line of
horses and as far forward as necessary.
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