September 2 Sunday – Isabel Lyon’s journal:

September 1 Saturday – In Dublin, N.H. Sam inscribed a “Year Book” to Simon Wolf:

“There is no sadder sight than a young pessimist” [MTP] Note: MTP calls this “Wolf’s th Commemorative Book of 1906.” For Wolf’s 70 birthday, his daughter, Florence Gotthold, put three books together with over 400 personal messages from famous men of the day, including Twain, Grover Cleveland, Theodore Roosevelt, and Oliver Wendell Holmes.  

September – The second of two installments of “A Horse’s Tale” ran in Harper’s Monthly, and included five illustrations by Lucius Wolcott Hitchcock. Harper’s would publish both segments as a 153-page book by the same name on Oct. 24, 1907.

August 31 Friday – In Dublin, N.H. Sam replied to the Aug. 29 of Samuel Hopkins Adams of Collier’s.

August 30 Thursday – Sam wrote “My Literary Shipyard.” It was published posthumously in Harper’s Monthly Aug. 1922 [Camfield’s bibliog.]. Note: Sam added to the piece and titled it “When a Book Gets Tired.”

August 29 Wednesday – In Dublin, N.H. Sam finished his Aug. 28 to Mary B. Rogers.

Tuesday, 12.50 noon. [Sam likely lost track of the day; this was Wednesday, following the sequence of the prior passages].

August 28 Tuesday – In Dublin, N.H. Sam wrote to daughter Clara in Norfolk, Conn.  

Dear Ashcat, I am glad you got things arranged to your mind with Mr. Charlton, & that your outlook is so full of promise, & your heart so full of courage. This is the spirit that succeeds.

I have been away skylarking, & by consequence have been scandalously neglectful in the matter of letters to you & Jean. I’ve depended on Miss Lyon. Yes, turn my bedroom into a billiard room—I shall be entirely satisfied.

August 27 Monday – In Dublin, N.H. Sam finished his Aug. 25 and 26 to Mary B. Rogers (Mrs. H.H. Rogers, Jr.)

August 26 Sunday – In Dublin, N.H. Sam added to his Aug. 25 to Mary B. Rogers 

Sunday, noon.

August 25 Saturday – In Dublin, N.H. Sam wrote to William Dean Howells.

Dear ’Owells: / If it were my own case I should probably stand upon my innocence, & go on & publish my story “regardless”; but you are not me, & so it is different. You are better, & finer than I am, & it costs you many a pang that I escape.