Twains Letters vol 3 1876-1885 | Page 8

decide about the Aldriches, so
as to know whether to apply for an additional bedroom or not.
Don't dine that evening, for I shall arrive dinnerless and need your help.
I'll bring my Blindfold Novelette, but shan't exhibit it unless you
exhibit yours. You would simply go to work and write a novelette that
would make mine sick. Because you would know all about where my
weak points lay. No, Sir, I'm one of these old wary birds!
Don't bother to write a letter--3 lines on a postal card is all that I can
permit from a busy man. Yrs ever MARK.
P. S. Good! You'll not have to feel any call to mention that debut in the
Atlantic--they've made me pay the grand cash for my box!--a thing
which most managers would be too worldly-wise to do, with
journalistic folks. But I'm most honestly glad, for I'd rather pay three
prices, any time, than to have my tongue half paralyzed with a
dead-head ticket.
Hang that Anna Dickinson, a body can never depend upon her debuts!
She has made five or six false starts already. If she fails to debut this
time, I will never bet on her again.
In his book, My Mark Twain, Howells refers to the "tragedy" of Miss
Dickinson's appearance. She was the author of numerous plays, some
of which were successful, but her career as an actress was never
brilliant.
At Elmira that summer the Clemenses heard from their good friend

Doctor Brown, of Edinburgh, and sent eager replies.
To Dr. John Brown, in Edinburgh:
ELMIRA, NEW YORK, U. S. June 22, 1876. DEAR FRIEND THE
DOCTOR,--It was a perfect delight to see the well-known handwriting
again! But we so grieve to know that you are feeling miserable. It must
not last--it cannot last. The regal summer is come and it will smile you
into high good cheer; it will charm away your pains, it will banish your
distresses. I wish you were here, to spend the summer with us. We are
perched on a hill-top that overlooks a little world of green valleys,
shining rivers, sumptuous forests and billowy uplands veiled in the
haze of distance. We have no neighbors. It is the quietest of all quiet
places, and we are hermits that eschew caves and live in the sun.
Doctor, if you'd only come!
I will carry your letter to Mrs. C. now, and there will be a glad woman,
I tell you! And she shall find one of those pictures to put in this for Mrs.
Barclays and if there isn't one here we'll send right away to Hartford
and get one. Come over, Doctor John, and bring the Barclays, the
Nicolsons and the Browns, one and all! Affectionately, SAML. L.
CLEMENS.
From May until August no letters appear to have passed between
Clemens and Howells; the latter finally wrote, complaining of the lack
of news. He was in the midst of campaign activities, he said, writing a
life of Hayes, and gaily added: "You know I wrote the life of Lincoln,
which elected him." He further reported a comedy he had completed,
and gave Clemens a general stirring up as to his own work.
Mark Twain, in his hillside study, was busy enough. Summer was his
time for work, and he had tried his hand in various directions. His
mention of Huck Finn in his reply to Howells is interesting, in that it
shows the measure of his enthusiasm, or lack of it, as a gauge of his
ultimate achievement
To W. D. Howells, in Boston:
ELMIRA, Aug. 9, 1876. MY DEAR HOWELLS,--I was just about to
write you when your letter came-- and not one of those obscene postal
cards, either, but reverently, upon paper.
I shall read that biography, though the letter of acceptance was amply
sufficient to corral my vote without any further knowledge of the man.
Which reminds me that a campaign club in Jersey City wrote a few

days ago and invited me to be present at the raising of a Tilden and
Hendricks flag there, and to take the stand and give them some
"counsel." Well, I could not go, but gave them counsel and advice by
letter, and in the kindliest terms as to the raising of the flag--advised
them "not to raise it."
Get your book out quick, for this is a momentous time. If Tilden is
elected I think the entire country will go pretty straight to--Mrs.
Howells's bad place.
I am infringing on your patent--I started a record of our children's
sayings, last night. Which reminds me that last week I sent down and
got Susie a vast pair of shoes of a most villainous pattern, for I
discovered that her feet were being twisted and cramped out of shape
by a