August 28 Tuesday – In Dublin, N.H. Sam wrote to daughter Clara in Norfolk, Conn.
Dear Ashcat, I am glad you got things arranged to your mind with Mr. Charlton, & that your outlook is so full of promise, & your heart so full of courage. This is the spirit that succeeds.
I have been away skylarking, & by consequence have been scandalously neglectful in the matter of letters to you & Jean. I’ve depended on Miss Lyon. Yes, turn my bedroom into a billiard room—I shall be entirely satisfied.
If the new house hasn’t spaciousness we don’t want it. This house is very nice, & is quite roomy & satisfactory, & cost only $15,000, Paine thinks. John must build one there for $25,000 or $30,000. You will find he can do it.
I wake at 5 & 6 & can’t go to sleep again. It is the rare atmosphere, I suppose. It is most exasperating. I have resumed my dictating, & need a clear head & hot interest in the work. It is 7. I will try to get a nap—& shan’t succeed.
With hugs & kisses / Father [MTP]. Note: Loudon Charlton, concert manager, Carnegie Hall.
Sam also wrote to Mrs. Lillian R. Beardsley in Sound Beach, Conn. explaining that the purpose of “The Horse’s Tale” was to “assist a band of generous ladies & gentlemen of Spain” in their effort to educate children there about the cruelty of bullfighting. He expressed regret that the only way to “move some people to effect” was to wring the human heart [MTP].
Sam also wrote a long letter to Mary B. Rogers (Mrs. Harry Rogers). In part:
Oh, don’t mind me, dear! I love to see you flash sparkle frisk about & carry on, even when the inspiration of it is malice & I’m the butt!
PARABLE.
All on a summer’s day an obese & bristly great tarantula was resting and reflecting upon his merits, with his body crouched against the ground & his several elbows sticking up, whereby one perceived that his aspect was historical & duplicated the wreck of the Maine. Anon came a golden-belted little wasp frisking by, sweet & dear & winsome & aware of it; & he, being without discretion, begged her to furnish him some compliments wherewith to warm up a cold eulogium. But she, mistaking his desire, & supposing he wanted facts; complied, with glad enthusiasm, & walked all over him from stem to rudder-post & from futtock-shrouds to garboard strake, & wheresoever she found a defect in him she darted her stiletto into it & made him shrivel!
MORAL.
What have facts to do with a eulogium?
Sam then wrote a series of “Telegrams,” possibly made up, between himself and George B. Harvey, about Mary Rogers’ “testimonial” in his behalf. He then changed the subject:
Tomorrow the premier of England will be 70. & London paper has asked for “cables” from friends. I’ve sent one:
“To the Prime Minister: Congratulations, not condolences. Before 70 we are merely respected, & we have to behave, to keep that asset; but after 70 we are respected, esteemed, revered, & do not have to behave unless we want to. When I first knew you, one of us was not even respected. /Mark Twain.” [Note: Prime Minister was Henry Campbell-Bannerman; telegram UCCL # 07519 dated 7 Sept. 1906 is slightly different; one may be in response to an English newspaper, the other direct].
He related speaking at local “club” the previous Saturday (see Aug. 25 entry for the excerpt).
Tuesday night [Aug 21] there was a very bright play by a lad of 18, & it was done in exceedingly good style by a dozen lads & lassies, none them older than the author. We had a luncheon-gang to-day. There’s a local-talent concert tomorrow, & charades at Professor Pumpelly’s Saturday night, & I’m to be in it in my two admired characters (the German emperor—drunk—& a baby 9 months old. Notwithstanding these enlivenments, I miss my pal. I returned, a little while ago (5.30) from my daily compulsory long tramp through the woods. 6 p.m. Some visitors are announced; I must get up & dress & go down. 6.25. That’s done. I dictated 2 hours this morning. I am an industrious person, & entitled to great praise. Furnish it!
Butter!
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It is lovely of you to write me such nice long letters & I thank you ever so much. Twice you have apologized for this grace. You mustn’t.
I have promised by telegraph to speak at the dinner of the “Associated Liars” as you irreverently call them, Sept. the 15 , rest there, & go on to New York the next day. Clara will be there & will go to Norfolk the 19 —where she is to sing, on the 22 . I’ll slip up there unbeknownst, if you’ll go with me? Won’t Harry go too? It’s bound to be interesting, Clara dreads to have me present, but she hasn’t asked me not to come, in many words.
Later. A telegram [not extant] from Clara: she has gone home—too cold in Norfolk.
No Melville Stone, so far. He is lost or mislaid, I reckon.
It is holiday, to-day, but we need another charade for to-night, & women must work & men must pray, you know. How useful the dictionary is! I opened it & found a charade-combination right away, to-wit, life-like. I know it will play!
He then wrote a rough outline for a play based on “life-like.” (omitted here)
That afternoon concert was fine!
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This is no holiday!—I will rise & dress. Turn & turn about it has been Jean, then Miss Lyon, then Jean again, all the morning—getting instructions about the charades. Charades are exceedingly important events, Mamma Eve.
I am very glad you take my criticisms in such good part. I shan’t ever hurt you with them wittingly, dear niece of mine.
Your affectionate uncle[MTP]. Note: “Associated Liars” was Associated Press, Melville Elijah Stone (1848-1929) was general manager, also newspaper publisher, and founder of Chicago Daily News.
Clemens’ A.D. this day included: Calvin Higbie’s reply to Clemens’ criticism of his article— The holiday at Bar Harbor, where an incident brings to Clemens’s memory his scheme for teaching impromptu oratory, which he tried long ago at the Fellow-Craftsmen’s Club—The same scheme is tried on board H.H. Rogers’ yacht at Bar Harbor [MTP: Autodict2].
Isabel Lyon’s journal: Jean, 8:20
AB came back yesterday. This afternoon Mr. Clemens & I walked over to the Joe Smiths, I, to leave him there to discuss the plan for Saturday’s little speech at the Club. And there to be met by AB who went steaming down the road past Dr. Stowell’s sign where I had told him to meet me, so that we could walk up to the Coply [sic Copley] Greene house together. We didn’t find anyone there, but we sat out on the porch discussing the Harper contract—the contract between AB & them, & Harry Greene arrived to find us there. Later we walked home, H. Greene wandering along with us. AB was full of interesting talk about the Harpers & Redding & other things too [MTP TS 113-114].