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I was not more than eight years old when I first heard about West Point, and then I was told that it was Uncle Sam's Military School; that the young men there were called cadets; that they were soldiers, and that they wore pretty uniforms with brass buttons on them. The impression made upon me at the time was such that I never tired talking and asking questions about West Point. I soon learned to indicate the site on the map, and I longed to go there, that I might be a cadet and wear brass buttons. I talked about it so much that my good mother made me a coat generous with brass buttons. I called it my cadet coat, and wore it constantly. Ah! for the day I should be a big boy and be a real cadet. With a wooden gun I played soldier, and when the war broke out and the soldiers camped in our old fair grounds, I was in their camp at every opportunity. The camp was about half-way between our home farm and father's store in town, and many is the time I have been scolded for being so much at the camp. My only regret at that time was that I was not old enough to enlist, for I loved to watch the drills and linger around the camp-fires, listening to stories of the war.
This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it. This work is in the "public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work. Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.