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OF WILLIAM McKINLEY
295
God, to Thee." Surely this was a funeral of which the greatest king that ever lived might well be proud.
As they placed his remains within the receiving vault, a battery located on a distant hill sent forth a salute of twenty-one guns. Three volleys for a faithful soldier followed, and then thirteen bugles mournfully blew taps, the last dying note lingering lovingly amid the trees which sobbed in the murmuring breeze. And so they left him, a faithful servant gone to his eternal reward.
