Clemens was not wholly wedded to osteopathy. The financial interest
which he had taken in the new milk albumen, “a food for invalids,”
tended to divide his faith and make him uncertain as to which was to be
the chief panacea for all ills--osteopathy or plasmon.
MacAlister, who was deeply interested in the plasmon fortunes, was
anxious to get the product adopted by the army. He believed, if he could
get an interview with the Medical Director-General, he could convince
him of its merits. Discussing the matter with Clemens, the latter said:
“MacAlister, you are going at it from the wrong end. You can't go direct
to that man, a perfect stranger, and convince him of anything. Who is
his nearest friend?”
MacAlister knew a man on terms of social intimacy with the official.
Clemens said, “That is the man to speak to the Director-General.”
“But I don't know him, either,” said MacAlister.
“Very good. Do you know any one who does know him?”
“Yes, I know his most intimate friend.”
“Then he is the man for you to approach. Convince him that plasmon is
what the army needs, that the military hospitals are suffering for
it. Let him understand that what you want is to get this to the
Director-General, and in due time it will get to him in the proper way.
You'll see.”
This proved to be a true prophecy. It was only a little while until the
British army had experimented with plasmon and adopted it. MacAlister
reported the success of the scheme to Clemens, and out of it grew
the story entitled, “Two Little Tales,” published in November of the
following year (1901) in the Century Magazine. Perhaps the reader will
remember that in the “Two Little Tales” the Emperor is very ill and the
lowest of all his subjects knows a certain remedy, but he cannot seek
the Emperor direct, so he wisely approaches him through a series of
progressive stages--finally reaching and curing his stricken Majesty.
Clemens had the courage of his investments. He adopted plasmon as his
own daily food, and induced various members of the family to take it in
its more palatable forms, one of these being a preparation of chocolate.
He kept the reading-table by his bed well stocked with a variety of the
products and invited various callers to try a complimentary sample lot.
It was really an excellent and harmless diet, and both the company and
its patients would seem to have prospered--perhaps are prospering still.
There was another business opportunity came along just at this time. S.
S. McClure was in England with a proposition for starting a new magazine
whose complexion was to be peculiarly American, with Mark Twain as
its editor. The magazine was to be called 'The Universal', and by the
proposition Clemens was to receive a tenth interest in it for his
first year's work, and an added twentieth interest for each of the two
succeeding years, with a guarantee that his shares should not earn him
less than five thousand dollars the first year, with a proportionate
increase as his holdings grew.
The scheme appealed to Clemens, it being understood in the beginning
that he was to give very little time to the work, with the privilege of
doing it at his home, wherever that might happen to be. He wrote of
the matter to Mr. Rogers, explaining in detail, and Rogers replied,
approving the plan. Mr. Rogers said he knew that he [Rogers] would have
to do most of the work in editing the magazine, and further added:
One thing I shall insist upon, however, if I have anything to do
with the matter, and it is this: that when you have made up your
mind on the subject you will stick to it. I have not found in your
composition that element of stubbornness which is a constant source
of embarrassment to me in all friendly and social ways, but which,
when applied to certain lines of business, brings in the dollar and
fifty-cent pieces. If you accept the position, of course that means
that you have to come to this country. If you do, the yachting will
be a success.
There was considerable correspondence with McClure over the new
periodical. In one letter Clemens set forth his general views of the
matter quite clearly:
Let us not deceive any one, nor allow any one to deceive himself, if
it can be prevented. This is not to be comic magazine. It is to be
simply a good, clean, wholesome collection of well-written &
enticing literary products, like the other magazines of its class;
not setting itself to please but one of man's moods, but all of
them. It will not play but one kind of music, but all kinds. I
should not be able to edit a comic periodical satisfactorily, for
lack of interest in the work. I value humor highly, & am
constitutionally fond of it, but I should not like it as a steady
diet. For its own best interests, humor should take its outings in
grave company; its cheerful dress gets heightened color from the
proximity of sober hues. For me to edit a comic magazine would be
an incongruity & out of character, for of the twenty-three books
which I have written eighteen do not deal in humor as their chiefs
feature, but are half & half admixtures of fun & seriousness. I
think I have seldom deliberately set out to be humorous, but have
nearly always allowed the humor to drop in or stay out, according to
its fancy. Although I have many times been asked to write something
humorous for an editor or a publisher I have had wisdom enough to
decline; a person could hardly be humorous with the other man
watching him like that. I have never tried to write a humorous
lecture; I have only tried to write serious ones--it is the only way
not to succeed.
I shall write for this magazine every time the spirit moves me; but
I look for my largest entertainment in editing. I have been edited
by all kinds of people for more than thirty-eight years; there has
always been somebody in authority over my manuscript & privileged to
improve it; this has fatigued me a good deal, & I have often longed
to move up from the dock to the bench & rest myself and fatigue
others. My opportunity is come, but I hope I shall not abuse it
overmuch. I mean to do my best to make a good magazine; I mean to
do my whole duty, & not shirk any part of it. There are plenty of
distinguished artists, novelists, poets, story-tellers,
philosophers, scientists, explorers, fighters, hunters, followers of
the sea, & seekers of adventure; & with these to do the hard & the
valuable part of the work with the pen & the pencil it will be
comfort & joy to me to walk the quarter-deck & superintend.
Meanwhile McClure's enthusiasm had had time to adjust itself to certain
existing facts. Something more than a month later he wrote from America
at considerable length, setting forth the various editorial duties and
laying stress upon the feature of intimate physical contact with the
magazine. He went into the matter of the printing schedule, the various
kinds of paper used, the advertising pages, illustrations--into all the
detail, indeed, which a practical managing editor must compass in his
daily rounds. It was pretty evident that Clemens would not be able to
go sailing about on Mr. Rogers's yacht or live at will in London or New
York or Vienna or Elmira, but that he would be more or less harnessed to
a revolving chair at an editorial desk, the thing which of all fates he
would be most likely to dread The scheme appears to have died there--the
correspondence to have closed.
Somewhat of the inducement in the McClure scheme had been the thought in
Clemens's mind that it would bring him back to America. In a letter
to Mr. Rogers (January 8, 1900) he said, “I am tired to death of this
everlasting exile.” Mrs. Clemens often wrote that he was restlessly
impatient to return. They were, in fact, constantly discussing the
practicability of returning to their own country now and opening the
Hartford home. Clemens was ready to do that or to fall in with any
plan that would bring him across the water and settle him somewhere
permanently. He was tired of the wandering life they had been leading.
Besides the long trip of '95 and '96 they had moved two or three times
a year regularly since leaving Hartford, nine years before. It seemed to
him that they were always packing and unpacking.
“The poor man is willing to live anywhere if we will only let him 'stay
put,” wrote Mrs. Clemens, but he did want to settle in his own land.
Mrs. Clemens, too, was weary with wandering, but the Hartford home no
longer held any attraction for her. There had been a time when her every
letter dwelt on their hope of returning to it. Now the thought filled
her with dread. To her sister she wrote:
Do you think we can live through the first going into the house in
Hartford? I feel if we had gotten through the first three months all
might be well, but consider the first night.
The thought of the responsibility of that great house--the taking up
again of the old life-disheartened her, too. She had added years and she
had not gained in health or strength.
When I was comparatively young I found the burden of that house very
great. I don't think I was ever fitted for housekeeping. I dislike
the practical part of it so much. I hate it when the servants don't
do well, and I hate the correcting them.
Yet no one ever had better discipline in her domestic affairs or
ever commanded more devoted service. Her strength of character and
the proportions of her achievement show large when we consider this
confession.
They planned to return in the spring, but postponed the date for
sailing. Jean was still under Kellgren's treatment, and, though a cure
had been promised her, progress was discouragingly slow. They began to
look about for summer quarters in or near London.