Before eleven o’clock Tuesday morning, Ralph Osborn had been duly sworn in as a midshipman, and was directed to report to the paymaster for the purpose of depositing the money for his outfit, and to draw required articles from the midshipmen’s store. This did not take very long. At the store the first thing Ralph received was a uniform cap. He immediately put this on and regarded himself in the mirror with unconcealed satisfaction. Then he was given a great number of different articles; duck working suits, rubber coat and boots, flannel shirts, underclothing, shoes, towels, sheets, blankets, collars, cuffs, shirts, and so on. These he dumped heterogeneously together in a clothes bag, and with this heavily-filled bag thrown over his shoulder he started for the Santee, the old ship where his already admitted classmates were quartered. The first person he saw aboard the Santee was Bollup. The latter rushed toward him enthusiastically. “Hello, Osborn,” he cried. “You are a sure enough midshipman, aren’t you? I can see that by your cap. Well, I’m delighted, old chap; you were right about there being a mistake in that nine-tenths, weren’t you? But I wasn’t giving much for your chances yesterday at this time, I can tell you. Now how was the mistake made? Tell me all about it.”

Bollup’s greeting was most warm and cordial and it was very pleasant to Ralph. The latter had been warned by the superintendent not to talk about Short’s dastardly act, so he merely said: “Oh, there was a mistake somewhere. My papers were examined again and were found to be satisfactory after all; so they let me in. But I tell you I was awfully blue for a while, old man. But I’m happy enough now! It seems awfully good to be a midshipman; I’ll probably never enjoy another bit of uniform as much as I do this cap. Now put me on to the ropes; what’s the first thing I must do?”

“I’ll take you to see old Block; he’s the chief master-at-arms; he’ll give you a mattress and hammock and a locker for your clothes and things. Come along, there’s the old man now.”

A little distance away was a man of enormous build berating an ordinary seaman for the neglect of some order. “You’re not fit to be an afterguard sweeper,” he roared. “Polish up this handrail properly or I’ll have you lose all your liberties for a month. Get a move on you, you alleged sailorman, or——”

“Block,” interrupted Bollup, “here is another young gentleman for you; he wants a mattress and a hammock, and a locker. Can you fix him up right away?”

“Indeed I can. What’s your name, young sir?”

“Ralph Osborn, sir.”

“Avast your sir, when you’re talking to any one forrud of the mast, Mr. Osborn. This is your first lesson in man-of-war manners. Keep your ‘sirs’ and your ‘misters’ for the quarter-deck; they’ll be mightily missed there if you don’t put them on. Do you smoke cigarettes, Mr. Osborn?”

“I neither smoke nor chew, sir.”

“Never mind the ‘sir,’ sir. I’m glad you don’t smoke cigarettes; I report all midshipmen who do that. They’re regular coffin nails, but chewing is healthy; no sensible man ever objects to a person chewing; and a pipe now and then is a good thing for anybody. But no cigarettes, mind you, no cigarettes.” And Chief Master-at-Arms Block glared at Ralph in a way that would have surely intimidated him had he been guilty of the habit Block so heartily despised.

“Now this way,” continued the huge and formidable-appearing, yet kindly chief master-at-arms. “Here’s your locker key, No. 57, and I’ll send that make-believe sailorman down to you with your mattress, hammock and hammock clews, and I’ll tell him to put in the clews for you and show you how to swing the hammock. And, Mr. Osborn, I’m glad to know you; your classmates are a fine lot of young men, the best I’ve known in the thirty years I’ve been aboard the Santee.”

“Thank you, Block, you’re very kind; I’ll get along, I’m sure.”

Bollup took Ralph down to his locker and immediately they were surrounded by a group of Ralph’s new classmates.

“Here, fellows, here is Osborn,” cried Bollup; “he got in after all. Why, when they saw what sort of a man they were losing they just naturally slipped a three in front of that nine-tenths of his. ‘You’ve made a mistake,’ says Osborn to the supe, ‘I made more than nine-tenths; send for my papers and read them over again.’ ‘To be sure I did,’ says the supe, ‘but a mistake that’s easily remedied; here, give me my pen and I’ll make your mark 3.9 instead of .9. I don’t need to read your papers over again; I remember them perfectly.’”

Everybody laughed at Bollup’s remarks, and they crowded about Ralph, giving him a hearty welcome. “Here, Osborn,” continued Bollup, “here’s Himski; you remember him, Osborn; never mind the rest of his name—it’s as long as a main to’ bowline, though what that is I don’t know, but it sounds good. I heard old Block this morning tell an ordinary seaman his face was as long as a main to’ bowline; but I’m sure there never was a face as long as Himski’s name is. And here is Creelton; you know him, don’t you, Os?”

“I never had the pleasure. I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Creelton,” replied Ralph, laughing in great good humor at Bollup’s nonsense.

“There are no misters here, Osborn,” replied Creelton, a pleasant-faced, blue-eyed youth. “I see Bollup has nicknamed you Os, already, and everybody in our class calls me Creel.”

“And William Hamm wants to make your acquaintance, Os,” continued Bollup; “now, William, make your politest bow and tell of the great pleasure you experience in making Mr. Osborn’s acquaintance. Mr. Osborn, Mr. Hamm; Mr. Hamm, Mr. Osborn. Smith M. T. and Smith Y. N., shake with Osborn; Taylor, you and Os are old friends. Herndon, give Os the glad hand. Murphy, you old sinner, don’t be shy about greeting a new classmate.”

Bollup proved to be a regular master of ceremonies and in a short time Ralph found several scores of intimate friends. While yet a candidate Ralph had known Bollup and Taylor fairly well but now he felt he was on terms of great intimacy with them. He had known casually in Annapolis at the preparatory school quite a number of the candidates who were now his classmates; but none well except Bollup and Taylor. But now they all seemed friends of the most intimate nature. And Bollup seemed to be the leader of them all. The spirit of the new class centered in Bollup.

While Ralph was putting away his things and talking volubly with his new friends at the same time the harsh notes of a bugle were heard sounded on the deck overhead.

“The bugle has busted, fellows,” shouted Bollup; “break away from Os, or he’ll be late to formation. That’s for dinner formation, Os,” he continued. “Now hurry; we’ve only five minutes before muster; here, let me pack your locker for you; I’m an experienced packer.”

Bollup pushed Ralph out of the way and proceeded to finish putting his things away. He threw the remaining articles in pell-mell without regard to order, in about thirty seconds. “There, I told you I was an experienced packer, Os; now let’s beat it to formation.”

They rushed up to the upper deck and reached the formation just in time to avoid being marked late. Ralph was much interested. Here was his entire class gathered together, over a hundred young men, all dressed in uniform caps and civilian clothes; they had been measured for their midshipman uniforms but it would be several days before the uniforms would be ready. In the meantime they were anything but military in appearance. A midshipman in uniform was apparently in charge. He had been turned back into this new class for failure in his studies.

The midshipmen were mustered, absentees were reported, and then, in a column of twos, were marched off the Santee to main quarters at the other end of the Academy grounds. Here they were halted, were dismissed and told to stand by to fall into ranks with the battalion at the regular dinner formation.

The new midshipmen stood about in groups feeling ill at ease in their new surroundings. All about them were hundreds of other midshipmen, waiting for formation. Many of these, evidently upper classmen, paid no attention whatever to the newcomers. Others, more youthful in appearance, and evidently of the lowest class, about to be made third classmen, glanced at Ralph’s incongruously attired classmates with unconcealed gratification. They were serving the remaining few days of their plebedom and they gloated over the young men who were not yet even plebes.

One of them came up to Ralph and said: “Mister, what’s your name?”

“Ralph Osborn.”

“Never mind your first name, and always say sir, when addressing an upper classman. Try it again. Now what’s your name?”

“Osborn, sir.”

“Where are you from?”

“Toledo, Ohio, sir.”

“Never mind the town; just name your state. Now try it again!”

“From Ohio, sir.”

“That’s better. Why have you entered the Navy; for money, glory, patriotism or an education?”

“I don’t know how to answer, sir; I like everything about it.”

“Say sir when you end a sentence to an upper classman. Now try it again.”

Ralph did as directed.

“What is history in its highest and truest sense?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Well, you’d better learn before next February, or you’ll bilge upon the semi-an,” commented the young man, gruffly. And turning to the midshipman standing next to Ralph, he said: “What’s your name?”

“Bollup, sir, from Virginia, sir, one of the Bollups of that state, sir; a descendant of the Lieutenant-Colonel Bollup who was on General Washington’s staff, sir. I came into the Navy, sir, because my father told me to, sir; and I can’t tell you about that history question, sir; history was always my weak point, sir; I nearly bilged on history in my entrance examination, sir, and I hope you’ll excuse me from it, sir.”

The questioner glared upon Bollup, and demanded, “What are you trying to do, mister? Are you trying to run me?”

“Not at all, sir; I was just trying to save you from the trouble of asking me the questions you asked Mr. Osborn.”

“I’m inclined to think you’re cheeky. I’ll take it out of you if you are, with more trouble to you than to me. Can you stand on your head?”

“Oh, yes, sir, just watch me.” And instantly Boll up was standing on his head with his heels high in the air, to the overwhelming consternation of his questioner.

“Get up, get up, mister,” he shouted; “do you want to bilge me?”

“Oh, no, sir,” returned the now erect Bollup, innocently. “I just wanted to prove to you that I could stand on my head, sir; that was all, sir.”

“Well, I’ll give you plenty of chance to prove that, but not under the eyes of the officer in charge.” And then he said to the midshipman next to Bollup: “What’s your name, mister?”

“Himskihumskonski, sir.”

“Hold on there, that’s enough. Suffering Moses, mister, where on earth did you ever pick up such a name?”

“It was my father’s name, sir, and my grandfather’s before that; I’m a Jew, sir.”

“Well, you’re a blame good man, Mister Himski and so forth. Shake hands, will you? And if you want a friend just send for ‘Gruff’ Smith. You’ll find a Jew at this school is as good as anybody else if he’s got the stuff in him. And what is your name, mister?” continued “Gruff” Smith, turning to a small, round-faced, blue-eyed little fellow.

“William Hamm, sir.”

“The next time anybody asks you your name tell him it’s Billy Bacon; now don’t forget. There’s the bugle for formation and you’d better get in ranks or you’ll hit the pap for being late.”

It was in this manner that Ralph Osborn received his introduction to the battalion of midshipmen.