Next a plebe strolls wearily along, his
drooping shoulders, hanging head, and careless
gait bespeaking the need of more squad drill. Then
a dozen or more "picnicers," all females, laden
with baskets, boxes, and other et ceteras, laughing
and playing, unconscious of our proximity, draw
near. The younger ones tripping playfully in front
catch sight of us. Instantly they are hushed, and
with hands over their mouths retrace their steps to
disclose to those in rear their astounding discovery.
In a few moments all appear, and silently and slowly
pass by, eyeing us as if we were the greatest natural
wonder in existence. They pass on till out of sight,
face about and "continue the motion," passing back and
forth as many as five times. Wearied at length of this
performance, Smith rose and said, "Come, let's end this
farce," or something to that effect. We arose, left the
place, and were surprised to find a moment after that
they were actually following us.
The "Picnicers," as they are called in the corps,
begin their excursions early in May, and continue
them till near the end of September. They manage
to arrive at West Point at all possible hours of
the day, and stay as late as they conveniently can.
In May and September, when we have battalion drills,
they are a great nuisance, a great annoyance to me
especially. The vicinity of that flank of the battalion
in which I was, was where they "most did congregate.
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