Remarks | Page 6

Some literary people bathe before dressing.
I then go down stairs and out to the barn, where I feed the horse. Some
literary men feel above taking care of a horse, because there is really
nothing in common between the care of a horse and literature, but
simplicity is my watchword. T. Jefferson would have to rise early in the
day to eclipse me in simplicity. I wish I had as many dollars as I have
got simplicity.
I then go in to breakfast. This meal consists almost wholly of food. I
am passionately fond of food, and I may truly say, with my hand on my
heart, that I owe much of my great success in life to this inward craving,
this constant yearning for something better.
During this meal I frequently converse with my family. I do not feel
above my family, at least, if I do, I try to conceal it as much as possible.
Buckwheat pancakes in a heated state, with maple syrup on the upper
side, are extremely conducive to literature. Nothing jerks the mental

faculties around with greater rapidity than buckwheat pancakes.
After breakfast the time is put in to good advantage looking forward to
the time when dinner will be ready. From 8 to 10 A. M., however, I
frequently retire to my private library hot-bed in the hay mow, and
write 1,200 words in my forthcoming book, the price of which will be
$2.50 in cloth and $4 with Russia back.
I then play Copenhagen with some little girls 21 years of age, who live
near by, and of whom I am passionately fond.
After that I dig some worms, with a view to angling. I then angle. After
this I return home, waiting until dusk, however, as I do not like to
attract attention. Nothing is more distasteful to a truly good man of
wonderful literary acquirements, and yet with singular modesty, than
the coarse and rude scrutiny of the vulgar herd.
In winter I do not angle. I read the "Pirate Prince" or the "Missourian's
Mash," or some other work, not so much for the plot as the style, that I
may get my mind into correct channels of thought I then play "old
sledge" in a rambling sort of manner. I sometimes spend an evening at
home, in order to excite remark and draw attention to my wonderful
eccentricity.
I do not use alcohol in any form, if I know it, though sometimes I am
basely deceived by those who know of my peculiar prejudice, and who
do it, too, because they enjoy watching my odd and amusing antics at
the time.
Alcohol should be avoided entirely by literary workers, especially
young women. There can be no more pitiable sight to the tender hearted,
than a young woman of marked ability writing an obituary poem while
under the influence of liquor.
I knew a young man who was a good writer. His penmanship was very
good, indeed. He once wrote an article for the press while under the
influence of liquor. He sent it to the editor, who returned it at once with
a cold and cruel letter, every line of which was a stab. The letter came

at a time when he was full of remorse.
He tossed up a cent to see whether he should blow out his brains or go
into the ready-made clothing business. The coin decided that he should
die by his own hand, but his head ached so that he didn't feel like
shooting into it. So he went into the ready-made clothing business, and
now he pays taxes on $75,000, so he is probably worth $150,000. This,
of course, salves over his wounded heart, but he often says to me that
he might have been in the literary business to-day if he had let liquor
alone.

A Father's Letter.
My dear son.--Your letter of last week reached us yesterday, and I
enclose $13, which is all I have by me at the present time. I may sell
the other shote next week and make up the balance of what you wanted.
I will probably have to wear the old buffalo overcoat to meetings again
this winter, but that don't matter so long as you are getting an
education.
I hope you will get your education as cheap as you can, for it cramps
your mother and me like Sam Hill to put up the money. Mind you, I
don't complain. I knew education come high, but I didn't know the
clothes cost so like sixty.
I want you to be so that you can go anywhere and spell the hardest
word. I want you to be able to go among the Romans or the Medes and
Persians and talk to any of them