66

place. It was raining when the party arrived. The arrangements were poor, and there was only one carriage, and the committee, to be with the Governor, got in with him. The other members of the party had to walk.

The Governor happened to overhear some of his party complaining rather angrily of the treatment accorded them. Quietly calling them aside, he said: Well, suppose you are dissatisfied; the committee did the best it could. The hotel is the best in town; we have been treated as well as the people could. Remember that they do not understand that what they have done is not pleasing. Remember that

wherever we go we will get the best that the community affords. What more can you expect?" Thereafter there were no complaints, the lesson had been a wholesome one. Major McKinley, in campaigning, always had an eye to the feelings of the people. In one campaign the party came to a town on the border of Indiana. The people are religiously inclined. While waiting for the meeting there was nothing to do, so some of the party set about to amuse themselves by playing "horse." McKinley sent for them, and told them the effect it was having, and they stopped. A campaign is a serious thing for him. Cordial and friendly, and even jovial at times, he would permit nothing that looked like levity touching serious things. Once something detained him while his party was on the stand waiting for the meeting to begin. One of the gubernatorial crowd

had a habit of pushing himself forward, securing the most conspicuous place. The members of the press assigned to follow the Governor in the campaign had noticed this, and the opportunity seemed to have arrived for a little fun at the expense of the pusher. A cry was started for him to speak. Soon the people on the stand caught on, and the cry increased in volume. Just then McKinley came, and as he stepped to the front he turned and asked sternly, "Who did this?" It was explained that the forward one had expressed a wish to speak, and that the opportunity seemed to have been afforded him, but the Major was not appeased. In campaigns there are many glee clubs. There is one at almost every meeting. The songs which rang with his name never seemed to displease the Governor. He would beat time and nod his head, and his silk hat got hard treatment.

In the campaign of 1893 in Ohio and that of 1894, which the Governor made in sixteen States in a month and a half, he was always finding new converts to Republicanism, made so by Democratic incompetence and tariff tinkering. Never was he so pleased as when such a convert would grasp his hand and pledge his support to the Republican party. To McKinley the policy of protection is the hope of America, and everything that shows a growth in its favor delights him. The convert was always asked to give the point that converted him, and it was used by McKinley in his next speech.

It is hard enough to deliver a speech. It is sufficiently wearying to go through the muscular part of it; it is trying on the nerves to be constantly keyed up to the point necessary to such speeches as McKinley makes; but worse is the hand-shaking that follows, which, if the speaker be popular-and of course McKinley suffered more through this than in any other way. He shook hands with at least four hundred people every day during the Ohio campaign of 1893. He seemed to enjoy it, but it wore on him. It became necessary to stop often. The members of the audience would clamber on a platform and fairly mob the Governor in attempting to shake his hand. Sometimes a scheme was worked, but not often. A friend would stand behind the governor and thrust his hands under McKinley's arms. The Governor would hold his at his side, and the friend take the cruel grip of those who in their enthusiasm forgot how strong they really were. After trying this once or twice McKinley declined to permit “such a fraud to be practiced." It was always hard to get McKinley to bed. He would get into a talk with friends after a meeting, and he would not dismiss them, for he was too polite. The only thing that could be done was to go to his room, open one's watch and say, "Governor, you have to get up at five, and it is now midnight.” That sent the crowd away. The most noticeable thing about McKinley as a campaigner is his indefatigability. He makes two speeches of an hour and a half each and two others of from five to

ten minutes, day in and day out. In his earnestness, his enthusiasm, his versatility, his eloquence, his magnetic power over an audience, and his dramatic force, he stands unequaled.

CHAPTER XII.

MCKINLEY'S ADVICE TO BOYS.

The enterprising boy-Interviewing Major McKinley-Boys' own account of it-Painting up the town-Looks like NapoleonFatherly advice-An important question.

A

FEW weeks ago an errand-boy in the New York World became interesting through his anxiety to become a great man, and to find out how to do it by talking with great men and gaining instruction with a view to his education, the managing editor had a happy thought that the boy might become an interviewer, and sent him, accompanied by a reporter, to the most accessible of great men, Mr. Chauncey Depew. After the conversation it turned out there was no occasion for the reporter's notes or his literary skill. The memory of the boy was perfect, and he had a quaint, simple way of putting things that was attractive. The boy was a success, and he was sent to interview Major McKinley, and the result is a beautiful picture of the Republican candidate in his home, and a talk from him that every boy in America should read many times,