March 14 Tuesday – Sam typed a note from Hartford to Frank Fuller, about missing him in New York on his recent trip. Their relationship had been rather vacant since the “steam-generator” fiasco of 1877, when Sam lost $5,000. It’s not clear who re-initiated contact. (See also Mar. 23 entry.)

I WAS OUT TO DINNER THAT AFTER-NOON AT THREE O’CLOCK, AND DID NOT GET AWAY FROM IT, TILL TEN THAT NIGHT, WHEN I FOUND YOUR CARD AWAITING ME…I SUPPOSED YOU WERE DEAD, AND HAVE BEEN WEARING MOURNING IN A MOST RIDICULOUS WAY, AND EXPLAINING IT, WITH ABSURD COMPLIMENTARY LIES ABOUT YOU. BUT I SHALL COME OUT IN COLORS NOW…THE FIRST TIME I GO TO NEW YORK, I WILL LOOK IN AT THE STURTEVANT [MTP].

Sam also wrote two letters to Howells, both typed and bearing corrections not in Sam’s handwriting. These were probably transcribed by Roswell Phelps, Sam’s secretary during the Mississippi trip. In the first letter, Sam notes the hotel bill for Howells had been included on his bill, and his confession about forgetting to ask his mother and sister what day they planned to come to Hartford. The second letter was sent right after the mail brought Sam a letter from General Grant, conveying Secretary of State Frederick Theodore Frelinghuysen’s reply that no change would be made in the Consulate at Toronto [MTHL 1: 393-4].

Sam also wrote to A. Arthur Reade, who was soliciting testimonials for his 1883 book, Study and Stimulants: or, The Use of Intoxicants and Narcotics in Relation to Intellectual Life. Sam’s answers are revealing:

I have not had a large experience in the matter of alcoholic drinks [!!] I find that about two glasses of champagne are an admirable stimulant to the tongue, and is, perhaps, the happiest inspiration for an after dinner speech which can be found; but, as far as my experience goes, wine is a clog to the pen, not an inspiration. I have never seen the time when I could write to my satisfaction after drinking even one glass of wine.

As regards smoking, my testimony is of the opposite character. I am forty-six years old, and I have smoked immoderately during thirty-eight years, with the exception of a few intervals, which I will speak of presently. During the first seven years of my life I had no health—I may almost say that I lived on allopathic medicine, but since that period I have hardly known what sickness is. My health has been excellent, and remains so. As I have already said, I began to smoke immoderately when I was eight years old; that is, I began with one hundred cigars a month, and by the time I was twenty I had increased my allowance to two hundred a month. Before I was thirty, I had increased it to three hundred a month. I think I do not smoke more than that now; I am quite sure I never smoke less. Once, when I was fifteen, I ceased from smoking for three months, but I do not remember whether the effect resulting was good or evil. I repeated this experiment when I was twenty-two; again I do not remember what the result was. I repeated the experiment once more, when I was thirty-four, and ceased from smoking during a year and a half. My health did not improve, because it was not possible to improve health which was already perfect. As I never permitted myself to regret this abstinence, I experienced no sort of inconvenience from it. I wrote nothing but occasional magazine articles during pastime, find as I never wrote one except under strong impulse, I observed no lapse of facility. But by and by I sat down with a contract behind me to write a book of five or six hundred pages—the book called “Roughing it”—and then I found myself most seriously obstructed. I was three weeks writing six chapters. Then I gave up the fight, resumed my three hundred cigars, burned the six chapters, and wrote the book in three months, without any bother or difficulty. I find cigar smoking to be the best of all inspirations for the pen, and, in my particular case, no sort of detriment to the health. During eight months of the year I am at home, and that period is my holiday. In it I do nothing but very occasional miscellaneous work; therefore, three hundred cigars a month is a sufficient amount to keep my constitution on a firm basis. During the family’s summer vacation, which we spend elsewhere, I work five hours every day, and five days in every week, and allow no interruption under any pretext. I allow myself the fullest possible marvel of inspiration; consequently, I ordinarily smoke fifteen cigars during my five hours’ labours, and if my interest reaches the enthusiastic point, I smoke more. I smoke with all my might, and allow no intervals [Gutenberg Project online; Study and Stimulants 120-22]. <http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext04/ststm10.txt>

Roswell H. Phelps wrote, agreeing to go on the River trip as his stenographer; he advised he would see Clemens at 5 or 7 the following day; this is a reply to Sam’s letter (not extant) [MTP].

Abbott H. Thayer wrote that he planned to reach Hartford at 7:08 p.m. the following day and would come straight to the Clemens home [MTP].