April 21 Sunday – The New York Sun ran Sam’s letter of Apr. 18:
To the Editor of The Sun — Sir: I find the following suggestive derelict wandering about the ocean of journalism:
“I’d give a thousand dollars,” said a well-to-do New Yorker the other day, “to have that mark removed,” and he held out a well shaped and well-eared forehand, on the back of which, between the thumb and first finger, was tattooed a big blue anchor. “When I was a little fool at school, with my head full of stories of adventure, my highest ambition was to go to sea. An old sailor who lived in the village tattooed about a dozen of us on the sly, and I remember the lies I told my mother, as I kept my hand done up in a rag, pretending I had cut it, till the sore healed. Then she gave me such a thrashing as broke up my plan, fortunately, to have a fine red and blue heart done on the back of the other. The disfigurement has caused me no end of annoyance since and has cost me considerable money for gloves, which I always wear, winter and summer, though I detest them in warm weather. But a man can’t wear gloves at the table, and often at restaurants I catch people staring at my hand and I wonder if they think I have served my term in the fo’castle of some oyster scow or lumber schooner.”
A tattoo mark is easily removed. May I drop into personal history? When I was a small boy I had my share of warts. I tried in turn the three hundred and sixty-eight ways of removing them, but without results; indeed, I seemed to get wartier and wartier right along. But at last somebody revealed to me the three hundred and sixty-ninth way, and I tried it. Thus: I drove a needle down into the basement of the wart; then held the other end of the needle in the flame of a candle some little time; the needle became red hot throughout its length, and proceeded to cook the wart. Presently I drew the needle out; if it had white atoms like nits sticking about its point, that wart was done; if the point was clear, I drove it in again and cooked till I got those white things. They were the roots of the wart. Twenty-four hours later the wart would become soft and flabby, and I removed it with a single wipe of my hand. Where it had been was a smooth surface now, which quickly healed, and left no scar. Within two days I was wartless, and have so remained unto this day.
Well, a long time afterward, when I was sixteen years old, a sailor tattooed an anchor and rope on the back of my left hand with India ink. The color was a deep, dark blue, and extravagantly conspicuous. I was proud of it for awhile, but by the time I had worn it nine years I was tired of it and ashamed of it. I could find nobody who could tell how to get rid of it; but at least my wart experience of near half a generation before occurred to me, and I got me several needles and a candle straightway. I drove the needles along just under the surface of the skin and tolerably close together, and made them include the whole tattoo mark; then I fired up on them and cooked that device thoroughly. Next day I wiped the device off with my hand. The place quickly healed, and left no scar. A faint bluish tinge remained, and I was minded to begin again and cook that out; but as it was hardly detectable, and not noticeable, it did not seem worth the fuel, and so I left it there, and there it is yet, though I suppose I am the only member of my tribe that knows it.
I was in London a good many years ago, when the Tichborne Claimant’s case was being tried, and a batch of learned experts testified that an India ink tattoo mark could not be removed; but I was not asked to testify, and so those people don’t know any better to this day. Let the “well-to-do New Yorker” fetch me some needles and a candle, and name his bet. I will take him up. MARK TWAIN.
HARTFORD, April 18.
[Note: Thanks to detective work done by Frank C. Willson in the June 1945 The Twainian, and Gary Scharnhorst in American Notes & Queries (17:3) 2004, 41-3 this article, from a partial clipping in a scrapbook, was found and authenticated as Sam’s].
Mabelle B. Biggart, “Elocutionist and Dramatic Reader in West High School,” Cleveland, Ohio, wrote to Sam asking for “something about yourself for a brief sketch.” Biggart was a friend of Annie Webster. Sam wrote on the envelope, “I will answer her” [MTP].
Sarah C. Waters wrote Sam a rather gushing thank you for his talk on Hawaii at the Apr. 8 baseball banquet [MTP].