October 7 Sunday – At the Hotel d’Angleterre in Rouen, France, Sam wrote a humorous letter to H.H. Rogers. It seems Sam had to make a quick trip to the bathroom at 2 a.m., and got lost in the dark, unable to tell which floor he was even on. He drew a layout of the hotel with a staircase zigzagging up the middle.

Yours of the 24th Sept. has arrived, filled with pleasantness and peace. I would God I were in my room in the new house in Fairhaven, so’st I could have one good solid night’s sleep. …at 2 this morning I had a W.C. call and jumped up, in the dark, and ran in my night-shirt and without a candle — for I believed I knew my way….Would you think a person could get lost in such a place? I assure you it is possible; for a person of talent. We are on the second floor from the ground. There’s a W.C. on the floor above us and one on the floor below us. Halls pitch dark. I groped my way and found the upper W.C. Starting to return, I went up stairs instead of down, and went to what I supposed was my room, but I could not make out the number in the dark and was afraid to enter it. Then I remembered that I — no, my mind lost confidence and began to wander. I was no longer sure of what floor I was on, and the minute I realized that, the rest of my mind went. One cannot stand still in the dark hall at 2 in the morning, lost, and be content. One must move, and go on moving, even at the risk of getting worse lost. I groped up and down a couple of those flights, over and over again, cursing to myself. And every time I thought I heard some body coming, I shrank together like one of those toy balloons when it collapses. You see, I could not grope to the top floor and start fresh and count down to my own, for it was all occupied by young ladies, and a dangerous place to get caught in, clothes as I was clothed, and not in my right mind. I could not grope down to the ground floor and count up, for there was a ball down there. A ball, and young ladies likely to be starting up to bed about this time. X X X. And so they did. I saw the glow of their distant candle, I felt the chill of their distant cackle. I did not know whether I was on a W.C. floor or not, but I had to take a risk. I groped to the door that ought to be it — right where you turn down the stairs; and it was it. I entered it grateful, and stood in its dark shelter with a beating heart and thought how happy I should be to live there always, in that humble cot, and go out no more among life’s troubles and dangers. Several of the young ladies applied for admission, but I was not receiving, Thursdays being my day. I meant to freeze out the ball, if it took a week. And I did. When the drone and burr of its music had ceased for twenty minutes and the house was solidly dead and dark, I groped down to the ground floor, then turned and counted my way up home all right.

Then straightway my temper went up to 180 in the shade and I began to put it into form. Presently and admiring voice said —

“When you are through with your prayers, I would like to ask where you have been, all night.”

It was Mrs. Clemens; waiting in the dark; waiting for a reposeful atmosphere and tranquillizing speech; for Susy’s tossings and semi-deliriums had fagged her out, in a watch-weary state, and she had come to my room to rest her nerves a bit.

I told about my adventures, and that took her out of her troubles for the present. Then I fired up on my lamp and read until 6 this morning; thus adding one more to the string of wakeful nights which I have passed in this town [MTHHR 81-2].

Sam added some thoughts about the typesetter and a copy of the Chicago Herald which had just arrived, a column made by the typesetter which he wrote was “healing for sore eyes,” and which affected him “like Columbus sighting land.” Susy was still having coughing fits but the doctor seemed “cheerful” about her condition. Sam liked being in Rouen because no one called, save the Consul and Vice Consul; while in Paris many would call with good intentions but would add to the burdens they faced. Sam added after his signature that he hoped to be at the Rogers’ new country house housewarming in Fairhaven [MTHHR 81-4].

Sam also wrote a short note to Franklin G. Whitmore in Hartford. He wrote it had been “many months since either a Harper or a Century had arrived.” Sam advised him of their need to stop at Rouen on their way to Paris [MTP].