November 10 Wednesday — In Redding, Conn. Sam wrote to an unidentified person.
What went with about $10,000,
It now appears that I had 3 enemies on the Milk Products Board, whereas I supposed 2 of them were my friends. They pretended to be. They bought-in the dead Plasmon Co. & paid $7,000 of my money for it when they knew that its only valuable asset-—the patents—had reverted to the London Company.
They sold me $5,000 M. P. stock for $2,500 cash, without asking me whether I wanted it or not.
At the same time, they sold $20,000 M. P. stock to the London Co at half the price they charged me—& not for cash, but goods.
They acquainted me with none of these swindles at the time. / SL. Clemens [MTP].
Sam also wrote to Elizabeth Wallace at the Univ. of Chicago.
Dear Betsy: / Happily it is congratulations, not condolences. We have known Gabrilowitsich intimately for 11 years—ever since Vienna days, when he & Clara were pupils of Leschitzki. They were engaged years ago—twice. Broken both times, to Mrs. Clemens's great regret. Gab is a very fine human being, in every way.
I get nearly as much delight out of this marriage as I do out of the irrevocable soldering together of that pair of thieves that nested in my bosom so long [Lyon & Ashcroft]
When I wrote you, I was not aware that a wedding was immediately impending. The hurry was caused by a surgical operation. It was not getting along very well, & Clara wanted to nurse the patient. There’s been another operation since, so the nursing still goes on, in the hospital.
Jean abides with me, & runs a farm & keeps my accounts. I sign the checks myself. I won’t trust that to anybody again. My, how they did skin me!
No, I haven't had any 7-page letters from Margaret—no letters at all, in fact. She & her mother were to visit us last week, but Margaret broke some school-rules & was put under ban.
My Bermuda fish has been here—Helen Schuyler Allen. She has grown considerably, but is as sweet & innocent & unspoiled a child as ever she was.
I sent you Booth Tarkington’s little xmas book the other day, | hate xmas stories, but this one is bright & felicitous, & hasn’t any religion in it, & I like it.
I've written a xmas thing myself, for the Bazar, but if it has any religion in it I didn’t notice it. /Affectionately /... [MTP]. Note: “Beasley’s Christmas Party” (1909) by Booth Tarkington [Gribben 686].
William Dean Howells wrote from NYC to Sam.
Dear Clemens: / All right; I will try to climb your hill some time next week; but as yet I can't name the day. It will be rather late in the week; and as Pilla has started in with her usual sore throat, I’m afraid she can’t come with me. Joe sails Saturday, and that keeps me over this week.
Jean has kindly made a date for me, but I have to keep myself clear of the almanac for the present. /
Yours ever / W/.D. Howells [MTHL 2: 850]. Note: the Joe referred to was brother of Howells.
Paine writes of a conversation with Clemens on this day:
November 10. This morning early he heard me stirring and called. I went in and found him propped up with a book, as usual. He said:
“I seldom read Christmas stories, but this is very beautiful. It has made me cry. I want you to read it.” (It was Booth Tarkington’s ‘Beasley’s Christmas Party’.) “Tarkington has the true touch,” he said; “his work always satisfies me.” Another book he has been reading with great enjoyment is James Branch Cabell’s Chivalry. He cannot say enough of the subtle poetic art with which Cabell has flung the light of romance about dark and sordid chapters of history [MTB 1535].