“Now, spread out your arms and legs, mister, just as any good crab should do.  Raise your body from the floor.  Not too much; about six inches will do.  Now, mister, move about as nearly as possible in the manner of a crab.  Stop, mister!  Don’t you know that a crab moves either backwards or sideways?  It will not give enough vent to your animal spirits unless you move exactly as your model, the crab, does.  Try it again, mister, and be painstaking in your imitation.”

Mr. Briggs presented a most grotesque appearance as he crawled about over the floor in the very limited space allowed him by the presence of so many others.  The yearlings enjoyed it all in mirthful silence.

“As for you, mister,” continued Dick, turning upon the uncomfortable Mr. Ellis, “your self-conceit so fills every part of your body that the only thing for you is to stand on your head.  Go to the rear tentpole and stand on your head.  You may brace your feet against the pole.  But remain on your head until we make sure that all the conceit has run out of you!”

Mr. Briggs was still “crabbing it” over the floor.  Every minute the task became more irksome.

“Up with you, mister,” Prescott admonished.  “No self-respecting crab, with an abundance of animal spirits, ever trails along the ground like that.”

After some two minutes of standing on his head Mr. Ellis fell over sideways, his feet thudding.

“Up with you, sir,” admonished Dick.  “You are still so full of egotism that it sways you like the walking beam of a steamboat.  Up with you, mister, and up you stay until there is no ballast of conceit left in you.”

Crab-crab-crab!  Mr. Briggs continued to move sidewise and backward over the tent flooring.

Mr. Ellis was growing frightfully red in the face.  But Prescott, from the remembrance of his own plebe days, knew to a dot how long a healthy plebe could keep that inverted position without serious injury.  So the class president, sitting as judge in the court of hazing, showed no mercy.

Some of the yearlings who stood outside peering in should have kept a weather eye open for the approach of trouble from tac. quarters.  But, as the ordeals of both of the once frisky plebes became more severe, the interest of those outside increased.

Crab-crab-crab! continued Mr. Briggs.  It seemed to him as though his belt-line weighed fully a ton, so hard was it to keep his abdomen off the floor, resting solely on his hands and feet.

Mr. Ellis must have felt that conceit and he could never again be friends, judging by the redness of his face and the straining of his muscles.

An approaching step outside should have been heard by some of the yearlings looking in through the doorway, but it wasn’t.  Then, all in an instant, the step quickened, and Lieutenant Topham, O.C. for the day, made for the tent door!

CHAPTER XI