S. L. CLEMENS.

But a few days later he experienced a revelation. It came when he

perseveringly attacked still a third work of Scott--Quentin Durward.

Hastily he wrote to Matthews again:

I'm still in bed, but the days have lost their dullness since I broke

into Sir Walter & lost my temper. I finished Guy Mannering that curious,

curious book, with its mob of squalid shadows gibbering around a single

flesh-&-blood being--Dinmont; a book crazily put together out of the

very refuse of the romance artist's stage properties--finished it & took

up Quentin Durward & finished that.

It was like leaving the dead to mingle with the living; it was like

withdrawing from the infant class in the college of journalism to sit

under the lectures in English literature in Columbia University.

I wonder who wrote Quentin Durward?--[This letter, enveloped, addressed,

and stamped, was evidently mislaid. It was found and mailed seven years

later, June, 1910 message from the dead.]

Among other books which he read that winter and spring was Helen

Keller's 'The Story of My Life', then recently published. That he

finished it in a mood of sweet gentleness we gather from a long, lovely

letter which he wrote her--a letter in which he said:

I am charmed with your book--enchanted. You are a wonderful creature,

the most wonderful in the world--you and your other half together--Miss

Sullivan, I mean--for it took the pair of you to make a complete &

perfect whole. How she stands out in her letters! her brilliancy,

penetration, originality, wisdom, character, & the fine literary

competencies of her pen--they are all there.

When reading and writing failed as diversion, Mark Twain often turned

to mathematics. With no special talent for accuracy in the matter of

figures, he had a curious fondness for calculations, scientific and

financial, and he used to cover pages, ciphering at one thing and

another, arriving pretty inevitably at the wrong results. When the

problem was financial, and had to do with his own fortunes, his figures

were as likely as not to leave him in a state of panic. The expenditures

were naturally heavy that spring; and one night, when he had nothing

better to do, he figured the relative proportion to his income. The

result showed that they were headed straight for financial ruin. He

put in the rest of the night fearfully rolling and tossing, and

reconstructing his figures that grew always worse, and next morning

summoned Jean and Clara and petrified them with the announcement that

the cost of living was one hundred and twenty-five per cent. more than

the money-supply.

Writing to MacAlister three days later he said:

It was a mistake. When I came down in the morning, a gray and aged

wreck, I found that in some unaccountable way (unaccountable to a

business man, but not to me) I had multiplied the totals by two. By

God, I dropped seventy-five years on the floor where I stood!

Do you know it affected me as one is affected when one wakes out of

a hideous dream & finds it was only a dream. It was a great comfort

& satisfaction to me to call the daughters to a private meeting of

the board again. Certainly there is a blistering & awful reality

about a well-arranged unreality. It is quite within the

possibilities that two or three nights like that of mine would drive

a man to suicide. He would refuse to examine the figures, they

would revolt him so, & he would go to his death unaware that there

was nothing serious about them. I cannot get that night out of my

head, it was so vivid, so real, so ghastly: In any other year of

these thirty-three the relief would have been simple: go where you

can, cut your cloth to fit your income. You can't do that when your

wife can't be moved, even from one room to the next.

The doctor & a specialist met in conspiracy five days ago, & in

their belief she will by and by come out of this as good as new,

substantially. They ordered her to Italy for next winter--which

seems to indicate that by autumn she will be able to undertake the

voyage. So Clara is writing to a Florence friend to take a look

around among the villas for us in the regions near that city.

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