Poe. His
fellow cadets had dubbed him, "the Bard." Two of this young man's
companions were his room-mates in Number 28, "Old P," and "Gibs," and
the third was a visitor from North Barracks.

Taps had sounded sometime since, and the Barracks were supposed to be
wrapt in slumber, but for these young men the evening had just begun.
Several hours had elapsed since supper and it is a well-known fact that
there is never a time or a season when a college boy is not ready to
eat. Someone suggested that politeness demanded they should entertain
their guest with a fowl and a bottle of brandy from Benny Haven's shop,
and proposed that they should draw straws to determine which of the
three hosts should fetch the necessary supplies. They had no money, but
the accommodating "Bard" agreed to sacrifice his blanket in the cause of
hospitality; and armed with that and several pounds of tallow candles,
"Gibs," upon whom the lot had fallen, set forth to run the blockade to
Benny's. This was a risky business, for the vigilance of Lieutenant
Joseph Locke, one of the instructors in tactics who was also a sort of
supervisor of the morals and conduct of cadets, was hard to elude. As
one of the Bard's own effusions ran,

"John Locke was a very great name;
Joe Locke was a greater, in short,
The former was well known to Fame,
The latter well known to Report."

The best that Benny would give, in addition to the bottle, for the
blanket and candles, was an old gander, whose stentorian and tell-tale
voice he obligingly hushed by chopping off its head. Under cover of the
darkness and the storm, "Gibs" succeeded in safely returning to the
Barracks but not until his hands and his shirt were reeking with the
gander's gore. "The Bard," who was anxiously awaiting the result of the
foraging expedition ventured outside to meet him. When he beheld the
prize, he exclaimed, in a whisper,

"Good for you! But you look like a murderer caught red-handed."

His own words, almost before they left his lips, suggested to him an
idea for a mammoth hoax--the best they had tried yet, he told himself.
He hastily, and in whispers, unfolded it to "Gibs," whom he found all
sympathy, then returned alone, to his friends in Number 28, reporting
that he had seen nothing of their messenger, and expressing fear that he
had met with an accident.

All began to watch the door with anxiety. After some minutes it burst
open and "Gibs," who had carefully laid