om.

It is unfortunate indeed for me that higher
authority has concluded that I should not leave my
post at this time. This is a great disappointment
to me. There is nothing that could equal the
pleasure of meeting once more with old
'86--companions of my youth, the friendship for
whom is above all others the dearest and most
lasting. To be again for a few hours as in the
olden days at West Point with those who stood
shoulder to shoulder with me and I with them
through over four years, would be worth a great
sacrifice. The thought makes me long for cadet
days again. I would gladly go back into the corps
(although of course it has gone entirely to the
dogs since we were cadets) and gladly (in spite of
this) go through the whole course from beginning
to end to be with you all as we were then. Life
meant so much to us--probably more than it ever
has since--when the soul was filled to the utmost
with ambition and the world was full of promise.

The proudest days of my life, with one exception,
have come to me in connection with West Point
days that stand out clear and distinct from all
others. The first of these was the day I won my
appointment at Trenton, Missouri, in a competitive
examination with seventeen competitors. An old
friend of the family happened to be at Trenton
that day and passing on the opposite side of the
street, called to me and said, "John, I hear you
passed with flying colors." In all seriousness,
feeling the great importance of my success, I
naively replied, in a loud voice, "Yes, I did,"
feeling assured that no one had ever quite passed
such a fine examination as I had. The next red
letter day was when I was elected President of the
Class of '86. I didn't know much about class
presidents until the evening of our meeting to
effect a class organization. To realize that a
body of men for whom I had such an affectionate
regard should honor me in this way was about all
my equilibrium would stand. Another important day
was when I made a cold max in Phil. at June
examination und