The sun has twinkled upon the gilt-and-enamel lapel buttons, vest trinkets and watch charms of many a party of Elks, Masons, Moose, Knights of this and that, Loyal Sons of the other thing, as they craned their necks and arched their chests making holiday excursions up and down the Hudson River. Last week a municipal steamboat set out from Manhattan for West Point and again the sun twinkled on a galaxy of insignia, more chaste this time than usual, dangling at the midriffs of several score of...
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