After that Margaret played the new game often and she tried to catch him without his half of the shell, but Mark Twain writes, "I always defeated that game, wherefore, she came to recognize, at last, that I was not only old, but very smart." Mark Twain had lived 74 years when the close of his life here came April 20, 1910, in Redding, Connecticut. Once he wrote in one of his humorous moments, "Let us endeavor so to live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry." When his life here ended, tributes were received from every land. He was mourned as few men have ever been. Why? Because he knew people; he loved them and interested them. Because, in his most famous days he still remained at heart the boy who played beside the river and loved the surging, restless flow of the mighty current. [Illustration: EX-PRESIDENT WARREN G. HARDING] WARREN G. HARDING On the Saturday morning after election day in November, 1920, a crowd of people stood waiting in the railway station in Marion, Ohio. They were there to say goodbye to President-elect and Mrs. Harding, who were starting on a vacation journey; for, after the stirring times of the long campaign, they needed rest. When the conductor of the train asked Mr. Harding if he should make fast time, the President-elect replied: "Go slow; I have been going too fast for the past two weeks." It was not at all strange that so many should meet to say a fond farewell, for nearly everyone in Marion seems to like Mr. Harding. As we asked his fellow townsmen the reason for this affection, we were surprised that nearly all gave the same reason. They said: "We like him because he is genuine, frank, fair." "He is generous, considerate, and knows how to be a good neighbor." Indeed this spirit of neighborliness was shown clearly during the campaign preceding his election, when Mr. Harding decided to remain in Marion and meet his friends on the front porch of his own home. Because of this decision the Republican campaign of 1920 will long be known as "The Front Porch Campaign." To this front porch came many thousand men and women from every section of our broad land to meet Mr. and Mrs. Harding. Had you been one of these pilgrims, you would have met a man over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a deep chest. Though he is not bald, his hair is exceptionally gray for a man of his age. He has the rare faculty of making you comfortable in his presence. While, with his deep blue eyes, he looks you squarely in the face as he talks to you, his look is so kindly that you feel at ease.