Everywhere on the streets one meets men, from the gray-haired veteran to the half-developed beau, all parading on breast or coat lapel some distinctive mark of membership in some association. There are medals with ribbons, medals without ribbons, and ribbons without medals. There are buttons; big buttons and little buttons; silk buttons and metal buttons. There are pins, gold and silver and plated; every imaginable kind of pin. And these are worn by ladies and misses of all rank and quality, down to the little silver cross of the King's Daughters, so familiar everywhere. Nobody seems ashamed to own membership in these various societies and alliances. Men parade the streets under banners and flags, with uniforms, and distinctive feathers in their caps, and are not ashamed to acknowledge their favorite organizations. And yet there are many persons who seem to be ashamed to own their Lord and to confess His cause. The Mid-Continent.
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