August 27 Monday – In Dublin, N.H. Sam finished his Aug. 25 and 26 to Mary B. Rogers (Mrs. H.H. Rogers, Jr.)
Monday noon. I have just finished dictating the conspiracy-instalment, & have put in the Prince of Wales & Gen. Grant—& also a word about W. W. Jacob’s delightful “Dialstone Lane.” It will go to you soon, & you will sound the Admiral when he comes. There’s no hurry, take your time about it. That is, about that; but I hope you won’t take too much time about sending me a letter. In the Grant anecdote another Stewart turns up—Stewart of Nevada.
3 p.m.—in bed. I have resumed my habits, you see. When I am not away from home I live in bed, to beat the lonesomeness. Now then, Mariechan, I have just finished re-reading the Conspiracy-MS which you & I read together, & I believe that the addition of today’s dictation will round it symmetrically out & make it readable & discursive, & cover up all signs of intention. Polish up your diplomacies, sweet pal, sweetest of pals, & prepare to beat down & defeat all the Admiral’s objections!
Please send this aboard the yacht & greatly oblige [MTP]. Note: see also Gribben 348 on William Wymark Jacobs (1863-1943). Dialstone Lane (1904).
Isabel Lyon wrote for Sam to Samuel Hopkins Adams. “M . Clemens has ‘been dissipating r away on the ocean & around’—like” [MTP]. Note: The draft ends there.
Sam also sent a telegram to Emilie R. Rogers (Mrs. H.H. Rogers).
“I brought away a trunk for a memento & I had to put some of the admiral’s things in it for ballast because it was light & down by the head & wouldn’t steer but God will make it up to him. They were all sorry to see me go, & most of them said so. S. L. C.” [MTHHR 615]. Note: this a draft for a telegram in Sam’s hand.
Sam also wrote to Charlotte Teller Johnson.
Well, Charlotte, you certainly are tearing along at a great pace. I’ve never reached a 3000-word gait often enough to hurt: I kept it up for a week once in 1902, but I hadn’t done such a thing before for 30 years, & I have never approached it since. Last year my average 6-hour day (with a pen) produced 1500 words & no more. I shan’t ever use a pen again, I think. The mere thought of it tires me. But I enjoy dictating; it is only pastime. And there’s only 2 hours of it per day—therefore I have a deadly lot of holiday hours.
I’ve only been home a couple of days, & I was hoping to find your MS here, but you disappointed me. However, I understand the situation & will be patient. Bang right ahead & keep up your courage—I will wait, & expect great things. Miss Lyon was fascinated with you—a thing to be expected. I threw out a feeler or two & found you had not told her the M Clure romance. It is too bad! Why didn’t you? Some day you must tell her the whole bunch of episodes, the whole hurricane; it is too splendid to be hidden away & monopolised by a pair of misers. I shall want to know every detail of your mother’s c encounter with him, when I come.
I’ll tell you all about Joan when we finish. We began it last night. I can tell you one thing now —La Hire must teach Joan to fence, & must be astounded at her aptitude,—& must do his full share of an audience-enchanting dialogue. Don’t forget it. Write it now! Write me when you can, Charlotte dear—Keep me posted [MTP].
Clemens’ A.D. this day included: Two instances of remarkable memory for names and. faces— General Grant’s and King Edward‘s [MTP: Autodict2].
Isabel Lyon’s journal:
The King is dictating out on the front porch—Miss Hobby is tucked back into a corner out of a damp wind, & the King paces up and down as is his wont.
This morning I said to the King, “Nietzsche says—“’
“Oh, damn Nietzsche.”
“But Mr. Clemens, Nietzsche calls the acts of God, ‘divine kicks’.”
“Hurrah for Nietzsche!” the King shouted, & slapped his leg hard. He was standing in his night shirt in front of the mirror and was lathering his face for shaving. He wears red wooly slippers in his bedroom & his ankles are white & delicate above those red wooly slippers that flap & slap off at the heels [MTP TS 113].
Laura M. Dake (Laura Wright) wrote to Sam.
My dear, old-time Friend:—
Your letter of July 2 reached me a moment since, after having crossed the continent twice.
Oh, how can I thank you! How can I, except to ask the Lord, every night as I commend myself to his care, to bless you and yours.
…
I did not dream, my dear old friend, that you would respond personally, else I would have not presumed to ask such a thing. Mr. Carnagie [sic] gives millions for libraries….
But, I fear that you have embarrassed yourself by your generosity—and, since you have not Carnagie’s millions, that you can ill-afford this gift;—therefore, when I go back to San Diego, I will deed to you three lots that I have there in a new addition, and send you the deed. I could not sell them now without a great sacrifice, but they are increasing every day… [MTP]. Note: Sam included this letter in his Aug. 31 A.D.
Roi Cooper Megrue for Elisabeth Marbury wrote to Sam. “Will you be kind enough to write a letter addressed to Miss Daisy Andrews at this office, giving her authority to collect, as Miss Marbury’s Paris Representativce, your royalties on the French production of ‘How I became Editor’” [MTP].
Ernestine L. Merrill, in Auburn, Me., disabled but feeling life was worth living, wrote asking for “some autographic remembrance” [MTP].
August 27 ca. – In Dublin, N.H. Sam wrote to Daisy Andrews. “I hereby authorize Miss Daisy Andrews to collect the royalties due me on How I Became an Editor” [MTP].
Sam also instructed Isabel Lyon to “add an aphorism” to Ernestine Merrill’s Aug. 27 request for “some autographic remembrance” [MTP].