“‘Mark, you meet as many distinguished men as owner of an opera house as you do as Senator,’ he would jokingly remark after a chat with an actor. He always seemed to have a keen scent for talent in any profession and was quick to recognize genius. The psychological study the actor made in portraying human nature before the footlights was to him fascinating. The personality of these men on the stage he believed had a potent influence on the public mind. He never tired of high-class dramas; he was especially fond of Shakespeare’s plays, and always attended thoroughly ‘read up.’ He would often chide me for not being more thoroughly posted on the original Shakespearean text, but I was more concerned in the play as staged. “How well I remember how he enjoyed witnessing the play entitled ‘The Politician’ during his second campaign for Governor of Ohio. We sat together in a box. Roland Reed, who played the ‘Politician,’ and who is now dead, directed his remarks straight at us, and McKinley enjoyed his hits immensely. The actor brought in impromptu points and so generously improvised the speaking part that it seemed as if the actors and audience were having an ‘aside’ all to themselves at our expense. “A man of more generous impulses than William McKinley never lived. When cases were presented to him for relief that were beyond his ability to meet, he would apply to me or some of his friends for assistance in aiding worthy persons, and his friends were always glad to respond to these appeals. He was liberal without stint. It gave him actual pain to see anyone suffering or in distress, and on such occasions showed his great faith in friendship, never hesitating to go to any bounds in an appeal for others. Whatever he had in his pocket, whether it was 10 cents or $10, he was always ready to give it to relieve distress. If the applicant only required 50 cents and the Major had $10 in his pocket, the applicant would get the $10. He did not know such a thing as taking change from charity. “Though he had no especial training in music, no person was more partial to it than William McKinley. And his tastes were as catholic as a child’s. Anything, from a hurdy-gurdy to a grand opera, pleased him. He would keep his hands or feet beating time whenever there was music about him. I recall many Sunday evening home concerts. Everyone was singing, and he would call for ‘Nearer, My God, to Thee,’ and ‘Lead, Kindly Light.’ The radiance of his face when he sang those old favourite hymns, as if his whole soul was in it, is to me a sacred memory picture of William McKinley. “He would urge me to try to sing, and insisted I had a sweet tenor voice, but the pleasant charm of the happy occasions was never marred by my vocal efforts. “I knew I could not sing, but I listened; the echoes of those happy hours will linger with me as long as I live. The little singing parties in our parlour after dinner were always his delight.