I stopped in the middle of mamma’s early history to tell about our tripp to Vassar because I was afraid I would forget about it, now I will go on where I left off. Some time after Miss E. Nigh died Papa took mamma and little Langdon to Elmira for the summer. When in Elmira Langdon began to fail but I think mamma did not know just what was the matter with him. At last it was time for Papa to return to Hartford and Langdon was real sick at that time, but still mamma decided to go with him thinking the journey might do him good. But they reached Hartford he became very sick, and his trouble prooved to be diptheria. He died about a week after mamma and papa reached Hartford. Little Langdon was burried by the side of Grandpa at Elmira N.Y. After that mamma became very very ill, so ill that there seemed great danger of death, but with a great deal of good care she recovered.
Some months afterward mamma and Papa went to Europe and stayed for a time in Scotland and England. In Scotland Mamma and Papa became very well equainted with Dr. John Brown the author of “Rab and His Friends” and he mett but was not so well equainted with Mr. Charles Kingsley, Mr. Henry M. Stanley, Sir Thomas Hardy (grandson of the Mr. Hardy to whom Nellson said “Kiss me Hardy” when dying on shipboard) Mr. Henry Irving, Robert Browning Sir Charles Dilke, Mr. Charles Reade Mr. Black, Lord Houghton (Muncton Milnes) Frank Buckland, Mr. Tom Hughes, Anthony Trollope, Tom Hood son of the poet and Mamma and papa were quite well equainted with Dr. Mc Donald and family, and papa met Harison Ainsworth.
Papa went to Europe to lecture and after staying in Scotland and England and making a flying tripp through Ireland, he returned home with mamma.
Last winter papa was away for many months reading with Mr. G. W. Cable, and while he was gone we composed the plan of surprising [him] when he came home by acting scenes from the “Prince and Pauper.” It took us a great while to commit all that was necesary but at last we were almost ready and we expected [him] to come home the next day on which evening we had planned to surprise him. But we received a telegram from him stating that he would reach Hartford “to day at 2 o’clock.” We were all dismayed for we were by no means prepared to receive him The library was strune with costumes which were to be tried on for the last time and we had planned a dress rehearsal over at Mr. Warners for that afternoon. But mamma gathered the things up as quickly as possble and hustled them into the mahogany room. Soon we heard the carriage roll over the pavement in front of the house and we all rushed to the doore. After we had partially gotten over surprise and delight at seeing papa we all went into the library. We all sat with papa a little while and then mamma dissapeared into the mahogany room. Clara and I sat with papa a while so as [to] prevent his being surprise of our seemingly uncalled for disertion of him. But soon we too had to withdraw to the mahogany room so as to help mama sew on bucles onto slippers and pack costumes into a clothes basket. Papa was left all alone; Exept that one of us every once in a while would slipp in and stay with him a little while. Any one but papa would have wondered at mammas unwonted absence, but papa is to absence minded, he very seldom notices things as accurately as other people do; although I do not believe in this instance he could have been wholely without suspicion. At last he went up to the billiard room and Jean went with him. Mamma as a special favor let Jean into this secret on condition that she would not breathe a whisper to any one on the subject especially to papa and Jean had promised. But when alone up in papa’s room, it was very hard for her not to tell papa the whole thing. As it was she was undecided whether to tell him or not. She did go so far as to begin with “Its a secret papa” and then dropping varius other hints about the secret and she went so far that papa said afterwards that if he had beene any one else he should have guessed it in a minute.
At½ H past three o’clock we all started for Mr. Warners house there to have our rehearsal Jean and the nurse went with us, so papa was left absolutely alone.
The next day the first information that papa got was that he was invited for the evening and he did not know that anything unusual was going to happen until sat before the curtain.
We got through the scenes quite successfully and had some delightful dancing afterwards. After we had danced for about half an hour Mamma seemed in quite a hurry to get home, so we put on our things and started for home.
When we entered the library a lady was sitting in one of the arm chairs. I did not recognise her and wondered why mamma did not introduce me to her but on drawing nearer to her chair I saw it was aunt Clara Spaulding! ****—
Mamma told aunt Clara that we would have the “Prince and Pauper” again in a few weeks so she could see it. So it was decided that we should have it again in a few weeks.
At length the time was sett and we were nearly prepared, when Frank Warner who took the “Miles Hendon” part caught a severe cold and could not play it, so papa said that he would take the part. Papa had only three days to learn the part in, but still we were all sure that he could do it. The scene that he acted in was the scene between Miles Hendon and the Prince, “The Prithee pour the water!” scene. I was the Prince and Papa and I rehearsed together 2 or 3 times a day for the three before the appointed evening. Papa acted his part beautifully and he added to the scene making it a good deal longer. He was inexpressibly funny, with his great slouch hat, and gait,! oh such a gait! Papa made the Miles Hendon scene a splendid success and every one was delighted with [the] scene and papa too. We had great great funn with our Prince and Pauper and I think we none of us shall forget how imensely funny papa [was] in it. He certainly could have been an actor as well as an author.
The other day we were all sitting, when papa told Clara and I that he would give us an Arithmetic example; he began if A byes a horse for $100—“200” Jean interupted; the expression of mingled surprise and submission on papa[’s] face, as he turned to Jean and said “who is doing this example Jean?” was inexpressibly funny. Jean laughed and papa continued “If A byes a horse for $100—“200” Jean promptly interupted; papa looked perplexed, and mamma went into convulsions of laughter. It was plain to us all that papa would have to change his summ to $200; so he accordingly began. “If A byes a horse for $200 and B byes a mule for $140 and they join in copartnership and trade their chreatures for a piece of land $480, how long will it take a lame man to borrow a silk umbrella?”
Papa’s great care now is “Sour Mash” (the cat) and he will come way down from his studdy on the hill to see how she is getting along.
A few months after the last Prince and Pauper we started for “The Farm. The farm is aunt Susies home and where we stay in the summers, it is situated on the top of a high hill overlooking the valley of Elmira. In the winter papa sent way to Kansas for a little donkey for us to have at the farm, and when we got to the farm we were delighted to find the donkey in good trimm and ready to have us ride her. But she has prooved to be very balky, and we have to make her go by walking in front of [her] with a handfull of crackers. Papa wrote a little poem about her which I have and will put in here, it is partly German and partly English.—
Kiditchin.
“O du lieb’ Kiditchin,
Du bist ganz bewitchin.”
“Waw – – – – – he!”
“Our summer days Kiditchin
Thou’rt dear from nose to britchin”
“Waw – – – – he!”
“No dought thoult get a switchin
When for mischief thour’t itchin”
“Waw – – – – he!”
“But when youre good Kiditchin
You shall feast in James’s kitchen”
“Wah – – – he!”
“Anon lift up thy song—
Thy noble note prolong,—
Thou living chinese gong!”
“Waw – – – he! waw – – – – he waw – he”
“Sweetest donkey man ever saw.”—
Mark Twain.
Cats at Quarry Farm, 1887: Sour Mash, Apollinaris, Zoroaster, and Blatherskite.
There are eleven cats at the farm here now,
and papa’s favorite a little T. S. kitten he has named “Sour Mash” and a little spotted one “Famine.”
It is very [ ] to see what papa calls the cat prosession it was formed in this way. Old Minnie cat headed, (the mother of all the cats) next to her came aunt Susie, then Clara on the donkey, accompanied by a pile of cats, then papa and Jean hand in hand and a pile of cats brought up the rear, Mamma and I made up the audience.—
Our varius occupations are as follows. Papa ris[es] about H past 7 in the morning, breakfasts at eight, writes plays tennis with Clara and me and tries to make the donkey go in the morning, does varius things in A M. and in the evening plays tennis with Clara and me and amuses Jean and the donkey.
Mamma rises about ¼ to eight, breakfasts at eight, teaches Jean German reading from 9–10, reads German with me from 10–11—Then she reads studdies or visits with aunt Susie for a while, and then she reads to Clara and I till lunch time things connected with English history for we hope to go to England next summer, while we sew. Then we have lunch. She studdies for about half an hour or visits with aunt Susie, then reads to us an hour or more, then studdies write reads and rests till supper time. After supper she sits out on the porch and works till eight o’clock, from eight o’clock till bedtime she plays whist with papa, and after she has retired she reads and studdies German for a while.
Clara and I do most every thing from practicing to donkey riding and playing tag. While Jeans time is spent in asking mamma what she can have to eat.—*******
It is Jean’s birth day to day. She is 5 yrs. old. Papa is away today and he telegraphed Jean that he wished her 65 happy returns.
Papa has just written something about General Grant’s Getesburg speech. I will put it in here.
“General Grant.”
Any one who has had the privilege of knowing General Grant personaly will recognize how justly General Beale recently out lined his great and simple and beautiful nature. Thirteen hundred years ago, as the legends of King Arthur’s Round table have it, Sir Launcelot, the flower of cristian chivalry, the knight without a peer, lay dead in the castle of Joyous Gard. With a loving and longing heart, his brother the knight Sir Ector de Maris had been seeking him patiently for seven lagging years, and now he arived at this place at nightfall and heard the chanting of monks over the dead. In the quaint and charming English of nearly 4 hundred years ago the story says,—
“And when Sir Ector heard such noise and light in the quire of Joyous Gard he alight, and put his horse from him, and came into the quire and there he saw men sing and weep. And all they knew Sir Ector but he knew not them. Then went Sir Bors unto Sir Ector and told him how there lay his brother Sir Launcelot dead: and then Sir Ector threw his shield sword, and helm, from him; and when he beheld Sir Launcelot’s visage, he fell down in a swoon: and when he awaked it were hard for any tongue to tell the doleful complaints that he made for his brother.”
Then follows his tribute,—a passage whose noble and simple eloquence had not its equal in English literature, until the Gettesburg speech took its lofty place beside it. The words drew a portrait 13 centuries ago; they draw its twin to day without the alteration of a syllable:—
“Ah Launcelot thou were head of all christian knights! And now I dare say, thou Sir Launcelot, there thou liest, that thou were never matched of earthly kni[gh]ts hands; and thou were the court[l]iest knight, that ever bare shield, and thou were the truest friend to thy [lover] that ever bestrode horse; and thou were the truest lover, of a sinful man, that ever loved woman, and thou were the kindest man that ever strake with sword; and thou were the goodliest person that ever came among press of knights; and thou were the meekest man and the gentlest that ever ate in hall among ladies, and thou were the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear in rest.”
S.L.C.
July 1885.
The other day papa thought he would see how he could mannage Cadichon who had been acting badly so he got onto her but papa wanted to go one way and Cadichon another, and as papa wouldn’t submit Cadichon threw him off into the high grass.
About a half an hour later Jean came down onto the porch in her nightgown and sat on Mammas lap. I said Jean what do you think! Cadichon threw papa off into the high grass!” She answerd in a very calm way “I know it” I said how do you know it? she said oh I saw it from the window.” She had been in the habit of standing at the window in her night gown and crittisizing the shotts papa and I made while playing tennis and we wondered why she did not critticize the way papa fell from Cadichon.
Papa has just written to the editor of [the] Sun what he thinks about Gen. Grant’s burial. I will put it in here.
“General Grant’s Burial.”
Will the Captain be Removed?—
A Suggestion by Mark Twain.
To the editor of the “Sun.”—“Sir: The newspaper atmosphere is charged with objections to New York as the sepulchre of General Grant, and the objectors are strenuous that Washington is the right place. They offer good reasons,—good temporary reasons,—for both of these positions.
But it seems to me that temporary reasons are not meet for the occation. We need to consider posterity rather than our own generation. We should select a grave which will not merely be in the right place now, but will still be in the right place five hundred years from now.
How does Washington promise as to that?—You only have to hit it in one place to kill it. Some day the West will be numerically strong enough to remove the seat of government; her past attemps are a fair warning that when that day comes she will do it. Then the city of Washington will lose it’s consequence, and pass out of the public view, and the public talk. It is quite within the possibilities that a century hence people would wonder and say, “how does it come, that our predecessors buried their great dead in this deserted place?”
“But as long as American civilization lasts New York will last. I cannot but think she has beene well and wisely chosen as the guardian of a grave which is destined to become almost the most conspicuous in the worlds history. Twenty centuries from now New York will still be New York, still a vast city, and the most notable object in it will still be the tomb and monument of General Grant.
I observe that the common and strongest objection to New York is that she is not national ground. Let us give ourselves no uneasyness about that.
Wherever General Grants body lies that is national ground.
S. L. Clemens.
July 27th 85.
Papa says that if collera comes here he will take Sour Mash to the mountains.
The other day Jean was taking a walk with papa and as she passed the barn, she saw some little newly born baby ducks she turned to papa and said “I wonder why God gives us so much ducks as Patrick kills so many.”
Papa has gone to New York to attend Gen. Grant’s funeral. And he wrote mamma that the mourning put up for President Garfield was not to be compared with that put up for Gen. Grant. He wrote that there were a great many pictures of Gen. Grant just set in a sea of black.
Papa has come home to day and we were all delighted to see him. It was beautiful to hear him discribe the procession in New York in honor of Gen. Grant.
Papa’s friend, Mr. Gherhardt a young american artist who made a bust of Gen. Grant has just received the privilege of making a statue of Gen. Grant. And we hope will get a part in the great New York statue.
“I wonder why God gives us so much ducks.”
Illustration from Sunday Magazine, 24 May 1908.
Aug. 24
Mamma and Papa have gone to visit Mrs. Wheeler the mother of the artist Miss Dora Wheeler, at Tannersville N.Y. and they will meet there Mr. and Mrs. F. R. Stockton, Mr. and Mrs. Dean Sage, and Mrs Mary Mapes Dodge. They are anticipating a delightful visit.
Aug. 29.
Mamma and papa have returned and they have had a delightful visit. Mr. Stockton was down in Virginia and could not reach Tannersville in time so they did not see him. And Mrs. Dodge was ill and couldn’t go
to Tannersville. But Mrs. General Custer was there and mamma said that she was a very attractive sweet appearing woman.
Sour Mash is a constant source of anxiety, care and pleasure to papa.
Mamma has given me a very pleasant little newspaper scrap about papa, to copy. I will put it in here.—
“I saw a rather disparaging paragraph the other day, that recalled an incident of the Grant obsequies. I was at the Fifth Avenue Hotel at night, when the large halls were crowded with a mob of American celebrites. As we were looking toward the great staircase I saw James Redpath throw a kiss to a man going up, who turned with a friendly smile and tossed back a similar salutation. “Who is that?” I asked “That—” said Mr. Redpath “is the man who made death easy for Gen. Grant.” “Who—Shrady or Douglas? “No” said our friend “it is Mr. Clemens—Mark Twain. If it had not been for him Grant’s death bed would have been haunted by the fear of poverty for his wife and children. “I wish he added I could tell all I know about Mark’s noble and knightly generosity. But I do I learned only under the seal of confidence. Mark deliberately alows men who would have driven a hard bargain with Grant to malign him when he could crush them by a simple statement. But I tell you the time will come when, if the newspaper reports of this day are read people will ask why Mark Twain was not given the chief place in the procession. He did more than any living man to make Grant die without dread or regret. Mark is a better man than he is an author and there is no dought I guess that he is great with his pen.” I recall this remark as I saw Mark sneeringly referred to the other day.
A Family Sketch and Other Private Writings Page 12
