must make Chi-na do her du-ty, we must help her as well to hold her own."
On March 4, 1901, once more Pres-i-dent McKin-ley, for whom all the world now had praise, took the oath, held the chair, and went on with his work.
On Sept. 5, 1901, Pres-i-dent and Mrs. McKin-ley went to the Pan-A-mer-i-can Fair at Buf-fa-lo. Crowds came to take the hand of the great and good chief. While he stood, with a bright smile on his face and kind words on his lips for both poor and rich, a bad man shot him. At first it was thought the Pres-i-dent would live, and all that skill could do was done for him, but in a week's time it was known that all hope was gone. He knew that his end was near, said fare-well to his wife and friends, then, in a faint voice, gave a few words of the hymn, "Near-er my God, to Thee." Once more words came from his lips, "Good-by all, good-by. It is God's way. His will be done, not ours."
Ere the dawn of the morn of Sept. 14 came, the pure, great soul of Will-iam McKin-ley had gone to the "Home of the Blest."
News of this death brought a deep grief to the whole land.
When the time came for the sad rites at the last place of rest, the whole Na-tion stood still to weep and pray. All trains, boats, bells, wires, cars, came to a stop, and a deep pall of gloom was o'er the land.
From o'er the seas came words which told how much the dead chief was thought of, and how well it was known that in him who had gone to his rest the world had lost a great, wise, true, and just man.
