June 8 Thursday – Clara Clemens’ 31 birthday. Clara was in Norfolk, Conn. In Dublin,N.H. Sam wrote to her in care of Mrs. Bratenglier.
Ah, you dear little dear Clärchen! it is a lovely letter, and has made us all clamorously happy. I am going to send it to Aunt Sue. You have gotten back your sleep. It is great—there’s nothing greater I reckon, among the blessings. It is a pity you must do some of your faithfully-done work over anew, but I hope it will turn out as it does with half-forgotten languages—come back easier than one is expecting. That your voice is stronger than it was, is most gratifying news. It means what the natural sleep does—that you are climbing handsomely health-ward. I’ll claim The Grenadiers for sure, dear heart! Thank you for remembering.
I think a very great deal of Miss Lyon.
Good place to work? this? I should say so! My! to think that I’ve written 30,000 words here! That used to take a kind of a forever. “Adventures of a Microbe.” I read a chapter aloud every night. It’s like Paris in Joan-of-Arc days.
Oh, lots and lots of love, dear little Blackspider blatherskite. /Father [MTP]. Note: “The Two Grenadiers,” German song; see Gribben p. 305.
Sam also wrote to Mr. Gibson.
If you should see the admirable Mr. Harbin soon, won’t you please praise, for me, his literary taste? I cannot very well do it myself, it might seem an intrusion, because although I know him I have not had the pleasure of meeting him [MTP]. Note: this was possibly to Willis Gibson, who wrote the story “Arkansas Fashion” in the June Century that Sam had inquired of Gilder about, asking for the address of the author.
Isabel Lyon’s journal: After I sent off only a postal to mother this morning I had my inspiration for the day. It had been a most busy 90-minutes, between breakfast and the coming and going of the mail man and after he went, Mr. Clemens sauntered downstairs with a little half smile that was a treasure. Speaking of the microbe book he is writing, he said “Well this morning I’ve given it its title and written the introduction and that’s always a hard thing to do.”
That led me to say something about something he had written yesterday, and it started the flood of his wondrous speech. Up and down he paced, flinging his thoughts out of him, and I gave one of them a little bat, and he caught it and tossed it higher, with a voice deeply moved by the power of what was born within his brain, and finding life in speech of liquid gold. Do you wonder if I find myself, sitting and gazing off at the distant mountains, or into the near-at-hand woods—just steeped with the magnetism of his brain? Do you wonder? But suddenly, he stopped and said—“By gosh, I’ll go to work” and off he flew [MTP TS 64].
Samuel S. McClure wrote a short note to Sam, “glad to have taken a story told so as to give you a good time, and grateful to you for having taken time to tell us it was good story. I have proudly told the author that you liked it” [MTP]. Note: Story not specified.