She by no means meant that young William lacked virile and manly qualities. On the contrary, she used to delight in telling of the mischievous pranks which had made a part of his boyhood existence. But there was a judgment and good sense about his escapades which absolutely prevented them from partaking of the nature of cruelty and saved him at all times from acts which might bring shame in their train of consequences. He was a “good” boy, in the sense that he was not a “mean” boy. And so, while he was always certain to command the respect of his companions—of all that was best in boyhood—he was a loving and a dutiful son. He was never afflicted with the silly theory that a boy need not obey nor respect his parents. For this those parents doubtless deserve a large measure of credit. Besides so measuring their lives as to deserve his respect, they so ordered his life as to insure his obedience. And in his whole life it is said that he never wounded either father or mother with an insolent word. He was kind to his brother and his sisters. The money he earned he was always willing to share with them, and paid out many a dollar of his hard-earned wages for their education or for little presents which could add to their happiness. Toward his mother he was always lovingly deferential. To the day of her death he was solicitous about her, tenderly caring for her, unwaveringly thoughtful. A very beautiful relation was that which existed between them. And no mother was ever more proud of her son, or with more reason declared that he had grown up to be precisely the sort of man she knew from the beginning he would be. Toward his father there was always a gentle deference, a filial respect and the fellowship which wise men can cultivate in their sons. His father lived to see him honored by his countrymen, and in the enjoyment of a happy home and a competence. And the stern old man who had chosen his location with a view of his children’s good always a little relaxed the grim lines of mouth and brow when this son of his honest manhood was in his presence. And so it was that when he grew to maturity and established a home temple of his own, the habit of a lifetime was guaranty that he would bring happiness and not sorrow with him. There is a pretty story current in Canton to the effect that young Major McKinley first met Ida Saxton shortly after locating in the little city, and that he admired her greatly. But she was scarcely more than a school girl at the time, the daughter of a banker, the granddaughter of an editor, and a girl of such beauty that the young man, with nothing but his profession and his hopes, with little practice and no property, might well regard her hopeless. Besides, there was small opportunity for them to be thrown together. The Saxtons were not attendants at the Methodist church, and were rarely seen at its social functions. They were persons of wealth and established position and much sought after.