President for the first time, and she, straight as of old, but carrying the weight of many years, sat and saw, with honest pride, her son take the oath of office, and saw him receiving the congratulations of thousands, she said as of old: "William was always a good boy. I could always depend upon him. He never gave me a cross word, and I don't believe he ever told me a lie. I'm glad that he is President, for his sake, even though I did used to think he'd make a fine minister." What strong, glorious words for every youth in this broad land to remember: "I could always depend upon him. He never gave me a cross word, and I don't believe he ever told me a lie." Would that every mother could say as much of her own son.
And yet, lest some of my young readers may be inclined to think that William McKinley, the boy, was too goody-goody to suit them, let me add that such was far from being the case. He came from hard-working and fighting stock, and lived in a community where disputes were often settled with the fists. As a small boy, those who still remember him say he was a sturdy little fellow, not very tall, but broad of shoulder, and one who did not hesitate to take his own part if imposed upon. There is no recollection of his having sought a quarrel, but a number of stories are told of his having been in them and come off the victor. But in the majority of cases William tried to act the peacemaker, just as he often acted the peacemaker in later life.
In his boyhood days William McKinley loved to fish, and the story is told that he was very patient and would wait for hours for a bite, sitting on the old wooden bridge which spanned a nearby stream. Once he sat there until dark, and when he got home his mother wanted to know where he had been.
"I was fishing, mother," he replied.
"Fishing?" said Mrs. McKinley. "Where is your fish?"
"I didn't catch any to-day. But I located a big fellow and I'll get him tomorrow."
At this his mother smiled. But he was as good as his word, and brought home the fish for supper.
In those days skates were scarce and cost more money than the average family cared to pay out for half a dozen boys and girls. William had to learn to skate on a pair of skates which another boy owned. This man tells that he used to lend Will the skates in return for being "towed around," and adds: —
"William was a good skater. He couldn't do much at fancy figures, but he could beat lots of the boys when it came to a straight out race. He'd swing along like a steam engine, often with a stick in both hands and a tippet flying from around his neck and under his arms."
William McKinley learned his letters at home, from his big brothers and sisters, but when six years of age he was taken to the village school at Niles, a small, primitive-looking building, with rough desks and hard wooden benches, — a building which has since become the office of a granite company. Here he was instructed in the three R's, — reading, 'riting, and 'rithmetic. He was naturally of a studious nature, and it is told that seven times out of ten he was at the head of his class. Thus he learned to read at an early age, and before he was fifteen he had read nearly all the books which came within his reach.
CHAPTER II
Removal to Poland — Life as a Schoolboy — The Debating Society — His Opinion of a Law Case
As the McKinley family were numerous and the paternal purse by no means large, it soon became a question of what should be done with so many boys and girls. The older ones had outgrown the Niles school, and there was no other school in the neighborhood to which they could be sent.
"We will move to Poland," said Mr. McKinley. "There are more chances there, and I want to do the best I can by the children." And to Poland the family moved when William McKinley was nine years old. Poland was well known for its educational facilities, for it boasted of two good institutes of learning, one controlled by the Methodists and the other by the Presbyterians. Shortly after the McKinley's came to the place the Presbyterian school was burned down, and then both institutions were merged into one, known as the Union Seminary.
Poland is located eight miles south of Youngstown, and is given over to mining and agriculture. The great railroads have passed it by, and consequently it has made scant advances since the time when William McKinley trudged its dusty roads on his way to the Union Seminary. Here his elder sister Annie taught for some years, and here the young scholar made a firm friend of another teacher, a Miss Blakelee, who, after serving the school for many years, left her position to be married. Miss Blakelee was McKinley's favorite teacher, rind when, in 1883, he went to Poland Academy to address the graduating class there, he paid her a glowing tribute for all she had done toward making him the scholar that he was.
In those days there was always plenty of work for William McKinley to do at home. He sawed and split wood, brought water, and did his share of house chores just as other boys have done and are doing to-day. He never shirked, but would get through as quickly as possible, that he might get back to his book or to some favorite problem in mathematics, for he was a lover of the latter study. When there was nothing else to do, he would often listen to the men talking about politics, state rights, and kindred subjects, and on several occasions he travelled to Youngstown with his school chums to listen to some political speakers. These were the days in which the question of slavery was uppermost in all men's minds, and the politicians waxed exceedingly warm in their arguments of what should and what should not be done.
"I'd like to be a politician and spout out like that," said one of the schoolboys one day, after listening to a speech.
"I'll tell you what we can do," answered McKinley. "We can organize or join a debating society. Then we can choose a subject to debate on, take sides, and have lots of fun, and it will be instructive, too."
The subject was broached to the boys and girls the next day and took like wildfire. Some thirty of them formed the club, and they obtained a small room where they might hold their meetings and do their debating. It was decided to call the club the Everett Literary and Debating Society, in honor of Edward Everett, the distinguished secretary of state, senator, and at one time president of Harvard College. In those days Everett was at the height of his fame, and was known from one end of the land to the other for his power as a debater.
The boys and girls were very proud of their society, and it was a happy day for William McKinley when he became its president and sat in the chair on the platform with the gavel in his hand. One cannot help but wonder if he had any dreams in those days concerning the great and important places he was to occupy in the future.
Unfortunately there are no authentic records of the subjects which were debated by the society at this period, but they probably numbered a great variety. The slavery question was in everybody's mouth, and very likely it came in for a full share of the discussion. But it is a matter of record that William McKinley spoke often, giving the chair up to somebody else for that purpose, and that his manner so charmed those who listened to him that when it came time to vote for one side or the other of the debaters, he was generally found on the winning side.
At first the society room was but plainly furnished, with a small desk-like table, a few common chairs, and half a dozen benches. On the walls were a print of Washington and another of Jefferson, and between them a pair of crossed flags. The floor was bare.
"I think this society ought to have a carpet for the floor," said one of the girl members one day.
"Oh yes, let us have a carpet, by all means!" cried a number. "It would make the room look ever so much nicer."
When the question was put to the boys, some of them were doubtful. A
