“They know that he is an American of Americans. They know that he is just and able and brave, and they want him for President of the United States. (Applause.) They have already shown it—not in this or that State, nor in this or that section, but in all the States and in all the sections from ocean to ocean, and from the Gulf to the Lakes. They expect of you to give them a chance to vote for him. It is our duty to do it. If we discharge that duty we will give joy to their hearts, enthusiasm to their souls and triumphant victory to our cause. (Applause.) And he, in turn, will give us an administration under which the country will enter on a new era of prosperity at home and of glory and honor abroad, by all these tokens of the present and all these promises of the future. In the name of the forty-six delegates of Ohio, I submit his claim to your consideration.” (More applause.) The high-water mark of enthusiasm was reached when Senator Thurston rose to second the nomination of McKinley, which he did in eloquent and forceful words. In the midst of cries of “vote,” Governor Hastings placed in nomination Matthew Stanley Quay, at the conclusion of which, amid a profound hush, the Convention began balloting for a nominee for President of the United States. Alabama led off with 1 for Morton and 19 for McKinley, Arkansas and California following with a solid vote for McKinley. Connecticut gave 5 for Reed and 7 for McKinley; Delaware, its full vote for McKinley; Florida, 8 for McKinley; Georgia, 2 for Reed, 2 for Quay, and 22 for McKinley. When all of the States had been called, the chairman stated, before the announcement of the result, that application had been made to him for recognition by delegates of the defeated candidates to make a certain motion. He thought it the fairest way to recognize them in the order in which the nominations had been made. He then announced that William McKinley had received 661½ votes. Before the chairman could get any further, the enthusiasm of the Convention broke all bounds. Every man was on his feet, shouting, hurrahing, cheering, swinging hats and canes in the air, waving flags and banners and the pampas plumes of California, while through the Niagara-like rush and roar were caught the notes of “My Country, ’Tis of Thee,” as the band played with might and main in its attempt to gain the mastery of the cyclone. The women, if possible, were more frantic than the men. Parasols, fans, opera-glasses, gloves—anything, everything—were compelled to help in the magnificent burst of enthusiasm which swept over and submerged all alike, until it looked as if order could never again be evolved from the swirling pandemonium.