Daily Arizona silver belt., 1907-06-01
MRS. McKINLEY's LOVE
A Word Picture of the Tenderness that
 Hallowed Her Life


 tached to Mrs. Mckinley in the eyes of the country at large had its root ir love story that will take it's place among the classics. On the part of President Mckinley it was a single minded devotedness that gathered an ever-increasing tenderness from the del icaey of the wife, whose hopes of moth. erhood were buried and whose mind, as if arrested on the threshold of that deepest experience of her womanhood was still held in the thrall of youth.
 On her part it was love of abso- lute dependence and childlike trust. Through all her life her eyes have re. tained the clear, unshadowed softness of the girl; the charming pink of her cheek was that usually known to the dawn of maturity. Her gentle smile, her soft voice, the ingeniousness of manner, the modulated voice, all gave President Mckinley the sweetheart of his boyhood, who, if she could not share the cares of state and must be protect ed from every alien look or word, could yet win him from all other considera- ton to make her happy.
 In the hour of her affliction the be- reaved wife voiced the whole craving of her nature in that one pathetic sen tenee, "I want to SC the major" But when she had seen the major for the last time, when they had placed him in the vault at Canton, where now, as she lies dying, the national memorial to her husband is nearing completion, she turned her thoughts to what she might do for him. Daily she visited the tomb to stay a while in thought, and to leave her beloved flowers for her beloved dead.
 Next to children, Mrs. Mckinley has always loved her flowers. She used to mingle the two fondnesses by giving her blossoms from the White House conservatories in splendid largesse to the little ones, and she had proteges of all kinds in the hospitals and other in- stitutions and among her personal friends. When Easter time came the first lady would sit all day at the win dow to watch the egg-rolling on the lawn and laugh as gleefully as the youngsters themselves.
 Denied much effort, she busted her self about little things She made purses of netted silk and fashioned slip pers of wool by the hundreds. They went for Christmas gifts, as souvenirs. They brought large prices at charitable fairs, and they gave their manufac- turer the keenest delight. She said once during the White House days that she had made 1000 pairs of slippers for somebody to wear.o The Christmas after her loss she did not forget her friends in the cabinet circle, but the remembrances fashioned by her delicate fingers were all of black and gray. The woman who had clung so consistently to beautiful colors could find relief only in the somber shades.
 One of the last expressions of Presi- dent McKinley's care of her occurred when they entered Terrace Station at Buffalo on that fatal trip. The salute of the artillerymen drawn up to await their arrival broke seven panes in the forward car. The crash and shock were too much for Mrs. Mckinley to bear. She fell fainting into her husband s arms. He laid her back on her pillows, soothing her gently before he stepped out to acknowledge the plaudits of the crowd.
 When she shrank back later, in sight of all, at the shrieking of the engines and the confusion, the president gently put his arm about her, smiled reassur ingly and drew the lace wrap up about her ears, shutting out the uproar.
 When Mir. Mckinley married Ida Sax ton she had been given not only all the advantages that education and travel could offer (she was fresh from six month stay in Europe when they met) |, but had learned self-reliance as well, for her father, James Saxton, had in stalled her as assistant cashier in the bank to teach her to cope with the world. She came to her husband bril- liant with health and ambition. When she had laid her two babes to rest in the Canton cemetery she was the wreck of her former self-the spirit of her youth and her love alone remained un- touched.-New York World.