A Family Sketch and Other Private Writings

by Twain, Mark, Griffin, Benjamin

  [However, she seemed to find some faint little grain of comfort in the fact, that deadly as the shot was, it had apparently gone through Jervis without his being aware that he had been hit.]

  *

  During an interchange of severe criticisms of the dog Flash’s manners and conduct, Susie said—

  “Mama, if you loved that dog as you do your children, he would act right enough.”

  [That is to say, she would train him, with a strict and affectionate hand. A very good compliment.]

  *

  Mother came up 4th of July night and took Jean’s room, and she was transferred to another. Next morning Jean blackguarded that new room to me, eloquently and without stint; but in aunt Sue’s presence not a word of criticism concerning it could be wrung from her by any trick or art. It was considered that she showed a fine and delicate feeling in the matter.

  *

  July 7, 1884. Yesterday evening our cows (after being inspected and worshiped by Jean from the shed for an hour,) wandered off down into the pasture, and left her bereft. I thought I was going to get back home, now, but that was an error. Jean knew of some more cows, in a field somewhere, and took my hand and led me thitherward. When we turned the corner and took the right-hand road, I saw that we should presently be out of range of call and sight; so I began to argue against continuing the expedition, and Jean began to argue in favor of it—she using English for light skirmishing, and German for “business.” I kept up my end with vigor, and demolished her arguments in detail, one after the other, till I judged I had her about cornered. She hesitated a moment, then answered up sharply:

  “Wir werden kein mehr darüber sprechen!” [We won’t talk any more about it.]

  It nearly took my breath away; though I thought I might possibly have misunderstood. I said:

  “Why, you little rascal! Was hast du gesagt?”

  But she said the same words over again, and in the same decided way. I suppose I ought to have been outraged; but I wasn’t, I was charmed. And I suppose I ought to have spanked her; but I didn’t, I fraternized with the enemy, and we went on and spent half an hour with the cows.

  *

  Mama was speaking of a servant who had been pretty unveracious, but was now “trying to tell the truth.” Susie was a good deal surprised, and said she shouldn’t think anybody would have to try to tell the truth.

  LIVY CLEMENS

  Quarry Farm Diary

  June 28th Quarry Farm—Elmira N.Y.

  On June 19th we arrived in Elmira, we went directly to Mothers spending a little more than a week with her. The six grand children had a delightful time together, and we elders all had a good visit. Yesterday morning we left Mothers and two loads of us drove up here, Charley bringing Ida, little Ida, Julia, Mr Clemens and me. The other load being Susy, Clara, Jervis, Elize (the nurse) and Jean. The load of children reached the farm first. At once after the second arrival the children all went out to see a new donkey that had been purchased in Kansas and sent to the farm for them. Jean’s first exclamation was “dear old fellow” as she advanced toward the “creature” with a little imbarassed air. The children all had a ride on the donken then Charley and Ida started down the hill with their little flock—and we began to get ourselves settled for our Summer’s stay here. Susy said “how good Aunt Sue is to let us come here and stay all Summer.” I most heartily echo that sentiment. The great interest with the children during these two days since we came has been the donkey. She seems a docile beast, the children have caught her in the field, bridled her and mounted her alone, but when they would ride their father went with them. We hope the donkey has no bad tricks that will in any way frighten or inconvenience the children. They have named her Patience Cadichon, pronouncing it, Kaditchin.

  This morning Theodore, Sue, Susy and I went down to church, it was Anniversary Sunday, there was a very large number baptised, first infants, later in the service young people, and older people all excepting the infants professed their faith. It was an exceedingly interesting and touching service.

  [ . . . ]

  July 2nd

  Jean has commenced now regularly her lessons every day, that is learning to read. Every morning she comes into the dining room as we are about through breakfast, and says “I don’t want a German lesson this morning, need I?” I say “oh yes”—we go into the bay window, sit on the sofa in the beloved “Farm” parlor and have a lesson, the plan is to have a half hour lesson but Jean is so interested after she has put in her one protest, that she always desires a longer lesson than the appointed time. Today Jean achieved a moral victory over herself. The older children had to go to the dentist I went with them—When Jean knew we were all to go she desired very much to go too, but when she was told she could not she gave it up very uncomplainingly. As we were seated in the carriage she came running and saying “I ’ant (want) to kiss you goo’ bye Mamma”—she was lifted up for the kiss and she kept saying “goo’ bye Mamma”—her little lips trembling, she did not like to be left behind, but she did not allow the tears to come. I hated to leave the dear little face so but I was compelled to.

  Susy is reading aloud to me Schillers “Yungfrau von Orleans”—she reads it very well and it is delightful to read it with her. Tonight I was reading to Susy and Clara from a book “Life and her Children” a very interesting book on the lower forms of Animal Life. I came to something about Carbonic Acid—and as we spoke a little about it Clara said, I always like to talk aloud to myself when I am alone in the woods, because I like to give the trees Carbonic Acid. The blessed child it was so sweetly and innocently said.

  July 12th

  [ . . . ] Susy is reading Scott’s “Betrothal,” tonight she said to me Scott has a cool way of writing—even when the event is exciting he writes of it coolly. Today as we were reading in the Bible together I took Clara’s Bible from her to look at something and a poor uneven little piece of paper fell out, written closely on both sides, I saw at a glance that it was of interest to me, that some of the childs thoughts were on it, she picked it up and evidently did not want it seen—but I insisted until she gave it to me—Susy saying too “Why Clara it is real sweet I saw it in your Bible the other day.” I read it and later when Clara steped out of the room Susy said “that little piece of paper made me know Clara better than I ever did before” This is what was on the paper—exactly except that I can not copy the dear little irregularities of the childish hand.

  Clara with her calf Jumbo, 1884.

  “Be good to Susy, be not rude, overbearing, cross or pick her up, Be considerate of Eliza (the nurse), and put yourself in her place. Be as sweet and generous to Jean as Susy is and even more so, and be not selfish with the donkey but think how much you like to ride her and Jean enjoys it just about as much. Be sweet to Mamma and when you see that she is tired you ought to ask her as few questions as you can not to bother her. Be not cross and unmannerly to Julie even if you do think her queer, perhaps she thinks you queer. Be good always”

  There were places where she was troubled with the 3rd person form, would at first use the 1st person and then write over it. It is a precious little document and I wish that I could keep it but evidently it is a help to the child she asked for it tonight, I told her I would give it to her tomorrow, but I do hate to have it lost. It has to me a real à Kempis ring about it.

  [ . . . ]

  July 26th

  Jean birthday. Soon after a nine o’clock breakfast we made ready Jean’s table of gifts in the parlor—we had it in the parlor instead of the little arbor where we have generally had it because Clara has a sore throat and it did not seem best for her to go to the arbor as it was windy. The dear little five-year-old maiden had a very happy time, with her various little articles. The only article of any value was a heavy silver spoon from Mother, but she had a number of little playthings that interested her. Her father was in New York, he telegraphed her wishing her sixty five returns, where shall we all be at that time. 1950. Jean saw the little birds picking up
seeds and worms at all sorts of irregular times and she said to Aunt Sue “doesn’t it hurt the birds to eat between meals.”

  [ . . . ]

  Sept 8th 1885

  I began yesterday to show Jean something about insects—we went out and got a grasshopper, but it jumped about so in the glass where we put it that she could not see it very well. I did not want her to kill it, because I cannot get away from the feeling that it must greatly blunt a childs sensitivity to allow it to kill the little creatures. We were able to examine a lady bug after a fashion without hurting it. Last night I got one or two insects that killed themselves in the light of the lamp. Today I was showing her their different parts—she said she had a dead fly up in her room, so she brought it to me. I told her we would find what dead insects we could today and examine them tomorrow.

  While we were eating our dinner, Jean came into the dining room, came up to my side and laid down on the table cloth by the side of my plate a handful of dead flies—saying triumphantly, “Mamma I found all those dead creatures in the kitchen” Of course there was nothing to do but praise the dear little midge for her success in finding “dead creatures,” but one would have prefered to have her keep them until one had finished eating. However I put them on a plate and told her to take them into the parlor, She started but at the door met the cat Sour Mash, and as Sour Mash was very anxious to have the contents of the plate, Jean gave her the flies saying “Mamma Sour Mash wants them so much I think she can have them and I can get more.” However she ow[n]ed afterward that she did not know where she could get any more, because she had gotten all there were in the kitchen.

  Sept 14th

  We start for New York tomorrow the 15th leaving this beloved Quarry Farm. We expect to spend a few days in New York and then on to Hartford.

  This afternoon as I lay on the bed feeling rather depressed at the thought of leaving Mother and Sue and the friends here and a little tired from the packing & Susy came to my bed side bringing a little bag that she had filled with articles to amuse Jean on the journey. It was delightful to see the arrangements that she had made—there were paper dolls cut out ready for Jean to make the faces on them, a piece of silk with a needle and pieces of thread for her to sew—a crochet neadle with worsted for her to “heckel,” buttons for her to sew on, a paper book which Susy had made for her, cutting out pictures and pasting them in the book, then writing storries about them—all this and more to amuse Jean on the journey to New York tomorrow. While I lay on the bed mourning she was doing something for the pleasure of some one else, the blessed child. Probably the next time I write in this book will be in Hartford, if we are spared to arrive there safely.

  Mark Twain by Susy Clemens

  We are a very happy family! we consist of papa, mamma, Jean Clara and me. It is papa I am writing about, and I shall have no trouble in not knowing what to say about him, as he is a very striking character. Papa’s appearance has been discribed many times, but very incorectly; he has beautiful curly grey hair, not any too thick, or any too long, just right; A roman nose, which greatly improves the beauty of his features, kind blue eyes, and a small mustache, he has a wonderfully shaped head, and profile, he has a very good figure in short he is an extrodinarily fine looking man. All his features are perfect exept that he hasn’t extrodinary teeth. His complexion is very fair, and he doesn’t ware a beard.

  He is a very good man, and a very funny one; he has got a temper but we all of us have in this family. He is the loveliest man I ever saw, or ever hope to see; and oh so absent minded! He does tell perfectly delightful stories, Clara and I used to sit on each arm of his chair, and listen while he told us stories about the pictures on the wall.

  His favorite game is billiards, and when he is tired, and wishes to rest himself he stays up all night and plays billiards, it seems to rest his head. He smokes a great deal almost incessantly. He has the mind of an author exactly, some of the simplest things he cant understand. Our burglar alarm is often out of order, and papa had been obliged to take the mahogany room off from the alarm altogether for a time, because the burglar alarm had been in the habit of ringing even when the mahogany room window was closed. At length he thought that perhaps the burglar alarm might be in order, and he decided to try and see; accordingly he put it on, and then went down and opened the window; consequently the alarm bell rang, it would even if the alarm had been in order. Papa went despairingly up stairs, and said to mamma, “Livy the mahogany room wont go on, I have just opened the window to see.” “Why Youth” mamma replied, “if you’ve opened the window why of coarse the alarm will ring!’ “That’s what I’ve opened it for, why I just went down to see if it would ring”! Mamma tried to explain to papa that when he wanted to go and see whether the alarm would ring while the window was closed, he mustn’t go and open the window. But in vain, papa couldn’t understand, and got very impatient with mamma for trying to make him believe an impossible thing true.

  He has a peculiar gait we like, it seems just to sute him, but most people do not; he always walks up and down the room while thinking and between each coarse at meals. He is very fond of animals particularly of cats, we had a dear little grey kitten once, that he named “Lazy” (papa always wares grey to match his hair and eyes) and he would carry him around on his shoulder, it was a mighty pretty sight! the grey cat sound asleep against papa’s grey coat and hair. The names that he has given our different cats, are realy remarkably funny, they are namely “Stray Kit,” “Abner” “Motly,” “Freulein,” “Lazy” “Bufalo Bill” and “Soapy Sall” “Cleveland,” “Sour Mash” and “Famine”

  Papa uses very strong language, but I have an idea not nearly so strong as when he first married mamma. A lady acquaintance of his is rather apt to interupt what one is saying, and papa told mamma that he thought he should say to the lady’s husband “I am glad Mrs. _____ wasn’t present when the Deity said ‘“let ther be light”’

  Papapa said the other day, “I am a mugwump and a mugwump is pure from the marrow out.” (Papa knows that I am writing this biography of him, and he said this for it.) He doesn’t like to go to church at all, why I never understood, until just now, he told us the other day, that he couldn’t bear to hear any one talk but himself, but that he could listen to himself talk for hours without getting tired, of course he said this in joke, but I’ve no dought it was founded on truth. One of his latest books was the “Prince and the Pauper,” and it is unquestionably the best book he has ever written, some people want him to keep to his old style, some gentelman wrote him, “I enjoyed “Huckelberry Finn” immensly and am glad to see that you have returned to your old style.” ***** That enoyed me greatly, because it trobles me to have so few people know papa, I mean realy know him, they think of Mark Twain as a humorist joking at every thing; “and with a mop of reddish brown hair, which sorely needs the barbar’s brush, a roman nose, short stubby mustache, a sad care-worn face, with many crow’s feet,” &c. that is the way people picture papa, I have wanted papa to write a book that would reveal something of his kind sympathetic nature, and the “Prince and Pauper” partly does it. The book is full of lovely charming ideas, and oh the language! it is perfect, I think. I think that one of the most touching scenes in it, is where the pauper is riding on horsback with his nobles in the recognition procession, and he sees his mother, oh and then what followed; how she runs to his side, when she sees him throw up his hand palm outward, and is rudely pushed off by one [of] the king’s officers. And then how the little pauper’s consience troubles him as he rembers the shameful words that were falling from his lips, when she was torn from his side. “I know you not woman” And how his grandeurs were stricken valueless, and his pride consumed to ashes. It is a wonderfully beautiful and touching little scene, and papa has described it so wonderfully. I never saw a man with so much variety of feeling as papa has; now the “Prince and the Pauper” is full of touching places, but there is most always a streak of humor in them somewhere now in the “Coronation”—in the stirr
ing coronation, just after the little king has got his crown back again papa brings that in about the seal, where the Pauper says he used the seal “to crack nuts with,” oh it is so funny and nice! papa very seldom writes a passage without some humorisam in it some where, and I dont think he ever will.

  Papa was born in Misouri, his mother is Grandma Clemens (Jane Lampton Clemens,) of Kentucky, Grandpa Clemens was of the F.F.V’s of Virginia. Clara and I are sure that papa played the trick on Grandma, about the whipping, that is related in “The Adventures of Tom Sayer” “Hand me that switch.” The switch hovered in the air the peril was desperate,—“My, look behind you aunt,”! The old lady whirled round and snatched her skirts out of danger. The lad fled on the instant, scrambled up the high board fence, and dissapeared over it.” ’ And we know papa played “Hookey” all the time. and how readily would papa have pretended to be dying so as not to have to go to school!

  Grandma couldn’t make papa go to school, so she let him go into a printing office to learn the trade. He did so, and gradually picked up enough education to enable him to do about as well as those who were more studious in early life. He was about 20 years old when he went on the Mississippi as a pilot. Just befor he started on his tripp Mrs. Clemens asked him to promise her on the Bible not to touch intoxicating liquors or swear, and he said “Yes mother I will,” and he kept that promise seven years, when Grandma released him from it. After papa had been a pilot on the Mississippi, for a time, Uncle Orion Clemens, was appointed secretary of the State of Nevada, and papa went with him out to Nevada to be his secratary. Afterwards he became interested in mining in California, the[n] he reported for a newspaper, and was on several newspapers; then he was sent to the Sandwich islands to After that he came back to America and his friends wanted him to lecture, so he lectured; then he went to Philidelphia, and found a situation in a printing office; Then he went abroad on “the Quaker City,” and on board that ship he became equainted with Uncle Charlie, Mr. C. J. Langdon of New York, papa and uncle Charlie soon became friends, and when they returned from their journey, Grandpa Langdon, unc[l]e Charlie’s father, told uncle Charlie to invite Mr. Clemens to dine with them at the St Nicholas hotel N.Y. Papa accepted the invitation, and went to dine at the “St Nicholas” with Grandpapa, and there he met mamma, Olivia Louise Langdon, first. But they did not meet again until the next August; because papa went away to California, and there wrote the “Inocense Abroad.”