Out of the barracks sally-ports, sudden as buckshot, burst cluster after cluster of one of the best-disciplined groups of young men in the world. Uniformed in grey and white, studded with shiny brass and topped with towering, plumed "tarbuckets," they fell in quickly, wheeled sharply, flowed in one trim mass onto the broad green Plain that tops the granite-cliff shores of the Hudson at West Point.
Flanking the Plain, under the shade of the great elms, stood excited parents and friends. Among them, more subdued but more deeply moved, stood an older part of...
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