Mark Twain, A Biography 1907-1910 | Page 5

cross an ocean again for the price of the ship that
carried me I am glad to do it for an Oxford degree. I shall plan to sail
for England a shade before the middle of June, so that I can have a few
days in London before the 26th.
A day or two later, when the time for sailing had been arranged, he
overtook his letter with a cable:
I perceive your hand in it. You have my best thanks. Sail on
Minneapolis June 8th. Due in Southampton ten days later.
Clemens said that his first word of the matter had been a newspaper
cablegram, and that he had been doubtful concerning it until a
cablegram to himself had confirmed it.

"I never expected to cross the water again," he said; "but I would be
willing to journey to Mars for that Oxford degree."
He put the matter aside then, and fell to talking of Jim Gillis and the
others I had visited, dwelling especially on Gillis's astonishing faculty
for improvising romances, recalling how he had stood with his back to
the fire weaving his endless, grotesque yarns, with no other guide than
his fancy. It was a long, happy walk we had, though rather a sad one in
its memories; and he seemed that day, in a sense, to close the gate of
those early scenes behind him, for he seldom referred to them
afterward.
He was back at 21 Fifth Avenue presently, arranging for his voyage.
Meantime, cable invitations of every sort were pouring in, from this
and that society and dignitary; invitations to dinners and ceremonials,
and what not, and it was clear enough that his English sojourn was to
be a busy one. He had hoped to avoid this, and began by declining all
but two invitations--a dinner-party given by Ambassador Whitelaw
Reid and a luncheon proposed by the "Pilgrims." But it became clear
that this would not do. England was not going to confer its greatest
collegiate honor without being permitted to pay its wider and more
popular tribute.
Clemens engaged a special secretary for the trip--Mr. Ralph W.
Ashcroft, a young Englishman familiar with London life. They sailed
on the 8th of June, by a curious coincidence exactly forty years from
the day he had sailed on the Quaker City to win his great fame. I went
with him to the ship. His first elation had passed by this time, and he
seemed a little sad, remembering, I think, the wife who would have
enjoyed this honor with him but could not share it now.

CCLVII
A TRUE ENGLISH WELCOME
Mark Twain's trip across the Atlantic would seem to have been a
pleasant one. The Minneapolis is a fine, big ship, and there was plenty
of company. Prof. Archibald Henderson, Bernard Shaw's biographer,
was aboard;--[Professor .Henderson has since then published a volume
on Mark Twain-an interesting commentary on his writings-mainly from
the sociological point of view.]--also President Patton, of the Princeton
Theological Seminary; a well-known cartoonist, Richards, and some

very attractive young people--school-girls in particular, such as all
through his life had appealed to Mark Twain. Indeed, in his later life
they made a stronger appeal than ever. The years had robbed him of his
own little flock, and always he was trying to replace them. Once he
said:
"During those years after my wife's death I was washing about on a
forlorn sea of banquets and speech-making in high and holy causes, and
these things furnished me intellectual cheer, and entertainment; but
they got at my heart for an evening only, then left it dry and dusty. I
had reached the grandfather stage of life without grandchildren, so I
began to adopt some."
He adopted several on that journey to England and on the return voyage,
and he kept on adopting others during the rest of his life. These
companionships became one of the happiest aspects of his final days, as
we shall see by and by.
There were entertainments on the ship, one of them given for the
benefit of the Seamen's Orphanage. One of his adopted
granddaughters--"Charley" he called her--played a violin solo and
Clemens made a speech. Later his autographs were sold at auction. Dr.
Patton was auctioneer, and one autographed postal card brought
twenty-five dollars, which is perhaps the record price for a single Mark
Twain signature. He wore his white suit on this occasion, and in the
course of his speech referred to it. He told first of the many defects in
his behavior, and how members of his household had always tried to
keep him straight. The children, he said, had fallen into the habit of
calling it "dusting papa off." Then he went on:
When my daughter came to see me off last Saturday at the