Where one name occurs in the above list of the members of the Notification Committee, the representative acts on both committees. When two names occur the first will visit the Presidential nominee and the second the nominee for Vice-President.

CHAPTER XVIII.

MCKINLEY ON THE DAY OF HIS NOMINATION.

His good nerve and thoughtful courtesies-He was quiet through the storm and gave the good news with kisses to his wife and mother.

J

UNE 18th, 1896, was an ideal June day at Canton; the air full of golden sunshine. The expectation and strain of excitement of the people, who have a passionate admiration and affection for Major McKinley, were unmistakable, but they waited with the supreme dignity of confidence.

Major McKinley was awakened rather early from a sound sleep by the clicking of the telegraph instruments in his office making an unusual clamor that penetrated the walls, but his eye glowed with energy, there was a fiery spark under his dark, shaggy brows, and the fine, strong lines of his mouth were accentuated. The day was not far advanced when a group of newspaper men gathered on the shady porch of the Major's residence, which seems to be in the midst of a vast park, adorned with pleasant homes, standing in glossy lawns and amidst lovely trees.

There was keen competition between the Western Union and Postal Telegraph Companies and the Long Distance Telephone, transmitting the Convention news to the Major, and he was quietly seated in a rocking-chair, slowly swinging and chatting, and as the telegrams were handed him, he coolly scanned them, repeated their substance-often the exact words—in unconcerned tones explained them upon inquiry, and, after elucidation, passed them on to others. It was noticeable that he frequently received confidential messages-and, of course, did not share them with his visitors.

The intervals were filled with conversation, in which the Major related anecdotes of the National Conventions, and of Mr. Blaine and the great Republicans of other days, and the newspaper veterans drew from him old recollections.

He followed intently the story of the silver secession, recognizing the parliamentary situation point by point, and concisely explaining the entanglement.

His face was very serious and stern when listening to the account of the retirement of some of the silver States, and broke into a smile, winning as the glance of a boy, as the announcement was made of the alternates taking the places of the fugitives; and there was an expression of pleasure from him when the Montana man stood up and stuck to the Convention, and spoke for his State in terse and ringing terms. There were many callers, and the Major was attentive to all, remembering the names of acquaintances,

asking apt and incisive questions, and commending every sign of patience and the presence of a spirit of conciliation in the Convention. He forgot nothing that was courteous and appropriate, and was as hearty and thoughtful as if holding a reception of inconsiderable import.

The enthusiasts of the early business hours of the eventful day were flitting about in the forms of delightful young ladies, wearing breezy and bright spring suits, and they had joyous faces and walked as if to dancing music. They were the people who had no doubts of the fortunes of the day.

As the Major rocked on his porch, enjoying the freshness of the air that was balmy, though touched with fire, the carriages that clattered down the broad street filled with people, all contained persons who recognized the hero of the day, and he returned their salutes with his accustomed urbanity and manner, at once graceful and stately.

Ladies of the family came up the walk from the street to the house, with serious faces, and as the Major rose to greet them he asked, "Is mother coming up to-day?" And the answer was, "Yes, she will be here."

An old friend near the Major appeared to be disturbed at the protracted discussions, as it seemed, of the silver and gold question, and the Major said, "Why, Judge, you seem to be impatient. If you show so much anxiety I shall have to console you." The Major did not allow any word that was tinged

with fault-finding relating to proceedings at St. Louis to pass without dissent, and remarked the Conventions were all, in many ways, alike; and he acted up constantly to the spirit of his last words to Mark Hanna as that successful man was setting forth, conquering and to conquer, for St. Louis-the Major's final word was: "Your duty now is one of conciliation." This has been the policy of McKinley throughout.

About one o'clock a carriage drove up and three ladies descended, the Major hastening forward to greet them. The venerable woman, with Roman features, was the Major's mother, and with her were his sisters.

About two o'clock there was lunch, Mrs. McKinley at the head of the table. She has, happily, improved in health, and her conversation sparkled with a sweet and pensive but pronounced personality. She has not been in favor of the Presidential business. Of course, she wants her husband to win now, but she would rather he had not been drawn into the stream of events that is bearing him on to higher destinies, for the tendency of the great office will be to absorb the Major's attention, so that she can hardly, however great his devotion, have all the time in his society she would fondly claim as her

own.

During lunch the telegrams continued to come, and one from an old friend was full of congratulations by anticipation, and called attention to two texts of Scripture.