July 10 Tuesday – At noon, 21 Fifth Ave, N.Y. Sam wrote to daughter Jean in Dublin, N.H.
Jean dear, I spend the days in the Standard Oil & the lawyer’s office, & my nights on board the yacht where it is cool & noiseless. At 6 p.m. (or 5) we go aboard & drop down about ten miles & anchor out in the open. We come up to East 23 Street in the morning & go ashore right after breakfast. This evening I shall dine with the Coes, & sleep at home. Clara still has the cold which she caught at Tyringham, 3 weeks ago. I want you to help me the very best you can, to persuade her not to come to Dublin. It is 4 railway trips in the blistering weather of the end of this month, with a rest at Dublin so brief as not to be a rest at all. I want to have her there as badly as anybody, but not at the sacrifice of the small remnant of health that is left in her. Write her & beg her with real earnestness & sincerity not to come—for she is not coming on her own account but solely upon ours.
It is noon. I’m done with the lawyers for to-day. The seances will continue every morning till Friday, when we sail for Fairhaven, & will be resumed next Monday. That will be close to the end, I guess. I tell you no particulars, for I don’t want them known. It’s hot, hot, hot! / With hugs & kisses / Father [MTP].
Sam also wrote to Isabel V. Lyon in Dublin, N.H.
I enclose copy of the Harper contract for preservation. Mr. Duneka is frying in the fire which he prepared for himself, & is a very humble & suffering sinner. His sufferings are not going to end just yet. His lawyer & mine were anxious to bring him & me together for a talk, but I objected to intercourse with his grade of criminal.
We made a step or two to-day. Others will be made to-morrow & next day. By Friday our entire hand will have been revealed. When I get back from Fairhaven Monday morning Col. Harvey will be here from Europe & the real & final business will begin & we shall soon know whether we go to court or arrive at a settlement outside.
Duneka says that in 3 of those Harpers the advertisement was present, but in the back part of the magazine [MTP]. Note: Sam had argued his books had not been advertised by Harpers for three months, and demanded payment for lost sales. Also, the delay of publication for Christian Science was an issue.
Arthur G. Stedman wrote to Sam. “My Dear Mr. Clemens: / Knowing how highly you appreciate the works of Mark Twain, and that above all others you consider him the greatest humorist and genious of the age, I take great pleasure in introducing this young lady, who is selling a very fine edition of his works. / Yours sincerely…” [MTP: The Diary of a Book-Agent, by Elizabeth Lindley (1906)]. Note: Stedman wrote this note to Miss Lindley, who was “trying on” being a book agent and not getting far with it. She was sent to Stedman’s desk as a joke by a colleague. He then wrote the above note and told her to call on a Mr. Clemens, whom she did not know or realize was Mark Twain.
Sam replied to the above from Arthur Stedman, after questioning Elizabeth Lindley, who at the last moment realized she was the butt of a practical joke, having been sent to sell Clemens a copy of his own work. From her 1906 book, after asking if Mr. Clemens was home:
I was told that he was, and giving my card to the maid, I stepped into the reception room. A slight noise in the adjoining parlor attracted my attention, and on looking up I was more than surprised to see the original of the picture in my sample copy.
“Clemens, Clemens,” I muttered, then it dawned on me that I was the victim of a practical joke. I could feel the angry blood burning in my cheeks, as I thought of the fun those men were having at my expense. But before I could think of what to say or do, Mr. Clemens entered the room, and I found myself tendering him the letter [by Stedman, above]. One glance at his face and I determined to play my part out.
He read the letter through, then over again. A twinkle in his eye, and a slight twitching of the muscles of his mouth were the only indications I had that he appreciated the situation. I stood demurely by, looking innocently down, wondering what was going to happen next.
“Taken many orders?” he inquired dryly.
“I have not taken any yet,” I replied. “I have just started in.”
“Have you ever done this work before?” The question was accompanied by a scrutinizing look.
“No,” I said, with a slight tremor in my voice.
“And you are trying to make your living this way?”
I answered in the affirmative, my eyes filling with tears.
“Then I will subscribe to the work to help you along,” he said kindly.
I could hardly hide the triumph I felt, as I thought how those men, who intended only to disconcert and annoy me for their amusement, would feel at the outcome of the joke. Mr. Clemens, who had left me rather abruptly, soon returned, with a check and a letter.
I have selected the best binding,” he observed smilingly, “and I wish you personally to take a set of these books, not later than to-morrow, to the gentleman who sent you here. You may read this note, which you will be kind enough to give him.” Wishing me success, he bowef me out. On leaving the house, I opened the letter and read: [See letter below].
MY DEAR ARTHUR: / You know it has been my custom for the past twenty years to make you a substantial birthday present. I intended buying you an automobile this A.M., but knowing that, like myself, you look upon Mark Twain as the greatest of living authors, I have subscribed to the set of books you so kindly brought to my notice.
I am aware that you already have six or seven different editions, but feel sure you will be delighted to receive this one. / Yours faithfully, etc. [MTP: Elizabeth Lindley, The Diary of a Book-Agent 9-10].
Joe Twichell wrote to Sam. He complimented the Howells article in Harper’s and would have liked to see what Howells said about it. He also liked Sam’s obituary for Carl Schurz. He added family happenings and plans. After his signature he added: “I have just been writing a note of sympathy (a proper one) to Chauncey Depew. He is an old friend of mine, and I am sorry for him. Think of me being sorry for Chauncey Depew!!!” [MTP]. Note: The object of Twichell’s sympathy for Chauncey Depew was not uncovered.