he kept his own private horse in
the town livery stable and had his room furnished with real mission
furniture. But he had no use for me when he realized that I was a Jew,
and took particular pains to transfer me from the company of which he
was first sergeant into the band.

The band, so-called in spite of the fact that it was composed of only
fifes, drums and bugles, was a sadly amateurish thing. The little
knowledge of music that I had was just so much more than that possessed
by any other member of the organization. As a result I soon rose to the
magnificence of cadet drum-major, an office which involved a tall,
silvered stick and a shako of sweltering bear-skin. Thus, my military
training consisted mostly of learning to twirl the baton; and when
semi-annual examinations resulted in disaster for me, I was reduced to
the humility of a private without having gained more than the knack of
sending a silvered rod in rapid circles about my stiff and sorely-tried
thumb.

At that, I was glad to return to the ranks. There had been plenty of
criticism of the fact that a "plebe" should have risen so quickly to an
officership. And, of course, as Jewish boys always do, I imagined that
the demonstration was just another evidence of race prejudice.
Undoubtedly it was, to some extent--but I know that I have always been
too suspicious in that direction. Had I been braver about it, I should
have been less suspicious.

One friend I did make: a lieutenant-adjutant whose first name was Sydney
and who was in charge of the punishment marks that were allotted us for
our various misdemeanors. Many a time did Sydney, for my sake, forget
to record the two or four marks which some crabbed teacher had charged
against me for inattention or disorderly conduct.

He was a big, handsome chap, with the most attractive manners I have
ever met. He was a scholarship boy--so that he had begun his school year
with a hundred and one unpleasant tasks to perform. But somehow or other
he had managed to be rid of them all excepting this dignified one of
"keeping the books"--and I am sure it must have been a lucrative one, in
a small way, for Sydney's room was full of pictures which had been given
him from other boys' rooms, of canes and banners--even of a half dozen
pair of patent leather shoes--which may or may not have come to him in
return for his apt juggling of those hated punishment marks.

I am not attempting to judge him--and I will tell you much