May 21 Thursday – At 21 Fifth Ave, N.Y. Sam wrote to daughter Jean in Gloucester, Mass.
Thursday night.
Your beautiful letter [not extant] has come, Jean dear, & I draw a deep breath of relief—you like the place, & my anxieties have vanished away! I had a growing fear—founded upon nothing—that you would feel the other way about it. I am unspeakably glad that it pleases you, & now I hope & believe you will have a happy summer. By your description, it is a place that would delight the heart of any one that has the seeing eye for the graciousness of the woods & fields & rocks & their wild inhabitants, & for the majestic ocean. You can live out of doors there; you were virtually in prison at Greenwich, & would still have been in prison if you had occupied the whole forlorn & uninspiring town.
Oh, don’t trouble about me! I am a happy & vigorous loafer. Yesterday afternoon I spent 3 hours listening to speeches, & spent 2 hours in the same way last night—from 10 till midnight. Then I played billiards & freshened myself up. I have no public engagement until Monday night—& that is the last one for the season, thanks be! There’s a great banquet to the Primate of Ireland Tuesday night, but I am sticking to my wise resolution of not going out any more until autumn.
Evidently there is something that has been kept from me—but that is right, & as it should be, unless it is something that I could remedy. Clara, Miss Lyon & Mr. Paine keep all sorts of distresses from me, & I am very thankful for it—distresses which they are aware I could not remedy, I mean. They know I desire this; for I am taking my holiday, now after 60 years of work & struggle & worry & vexation, & am willing to know nothing, ever any more, of what Susy used to call “the wars (woes) of life.” But whenever there is anything that depends upon me & my help, I want to know all about it.
I am glad to have Brush’s address & very very sorry for his bereavement. I will write him the first thing in the morning.
With ever & ever & ever so much love, dear child, / Father [MTP].
Note: see May 22 to George de Forest Brush (1855-1941), painter who was active at the artist colony in Dublin, N.H. during Twain’s Oct. 1905 stay; Sam also called on Brush in Florence, Italy on Jan. 22, 1904. See Sam’s note of condolence on May 22. Sam’s Monday night “public engagement” was a May 25 speech given at Delmonico’s on Victoria Day. See entry. Hill sees Sam’s reply here to Jean as “openly unimpressed” that “Jean apparently implied that the truth about her unhappiness [at Katonah, Greenwich, etc.] was being kept from” him.
Sam also wrote a line to Franklin G. Whitmore: “I am unspeakably glad to hear the good news, give my best love to the patient, / S.L. Clemens” [MTP].
Helen Stewart Campbell wrote from Arlington, N.J. to ask if Sam had rec’d her “rhyming effusion on ‘The Ladies!’ after he arrived” in NY on the Bermudian [MTP]. Note: same woman wrote Nov 28, 1907 asking for a loan.
E.J. Ridgway wrote from NYC to Sam, “sending you by bearer, a copy of ‘A Mind That Found Itself’ the book which I spoke to you about yesterday. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did” [MTP]. Note: IVL: “Answd May 25, ’08 / Thank him for sending it. Began it at once but shall read it slowly as it is strong goods.” The book (1908) was by Clifford Whittingham Beers, (1876-1943) [Gribben 56].
Dorothy Sturgis wrote from Boston to Sam.
My Dear Mr. Clemens / I got the picture the other day, and it’s a perfect beauty, not exactly four inches in size though, is it. I hate to spoil it by cutting it up. It’s such a nice picture as it is.
Mama has gone up to Woodstock to spend a week or so, and I’m left all alone now, you see I only see Papa and my brother at breakfast and dinner, and not always there. But I’m doing all the housekeeping, and that’s lots of fun.
Please give my love to Miss Lyon and thank her ever so much for taking all the trouble she has to send your various pictures out to me.
When you write next please tell me lots of news about yourself and Miss Lyon, and about what’s happening in New York.
I spoke of The Brushwood Boy in my last letter to you, and that reminds me that I meant to ask you where Kipling is now, I have often wondered where he spends most of his time, and I have often longed to meet him, but I don’t suppose I ever shall. / Lovingly Dorothy [MTAq 159].
Clemens A.D. for this day is listed by MTP.