If he gets hurt he has a right to medical and surgical attendance.

He is allowed to attend chapel on Sunday, just like an upper classman, and he may receive and write letters.

But he mustn't butt into upper-class privileges." "Poor plebe!" sighed sympathetic Laura.
"Lucky plebe!" amended Dick.
"Weren't you fearfully glum and homesick last year?
"Some of the time, desperately so." "Yet you believe it is right to ignore a plebe, and to make him so wretched ?" "The upper classmen don't make the plebe wretched.

The plebe is just on probation while he's in the fourth class---that's all.
The plebe is required to prove that he's a man before he's accepted as one." "It all seems dreadfully hard," contended Laura.
"It is hard, but necessary, if the West Point man is to be graduated as anything but a snob with an enlarged cranium.

Laura, you remember what a fuss the 'Blade' made over me when I won my appointment?
Now, almost every new man come to West Point with some such splurge made about him at home.