We're less than nothing." "That's true," nodded Dick thoughtfully.

"And I'll wager it will be pretty nearly as bad all the time we're plebes.

Now brace up, Greg.
Remember what a small fraction of nothing you are, and be thankful for the severe handling by Brayton, which may eventually transform us into at least pretty fair imitations of soldiers." Outside a drum was sounding.

It was mess call, but neither candidate knew it.

Almost immediately, however, Brayton's rousing voice rang up through the subdivision: "Candidates turn out promptly!" "There's our slave-driver once more," frowned Candidate Holmes.
Dick, as he raced down the stairs, remembered to button his coat down its entire length.