It was the middle of November, 1909, when Clemens decided to take
another Bermuda vacation, and it was the 19th that we sailed. I went
to New York a day ahead and arranged matters, and on the evening of the
18th received the news that Richard Watson Gilder had suddenly died.
Next morning there was other news. Clemens's old friend, William M.
Laffan, of the Sun, had died while undergoing a surgical operation. I
met Clemens at the train. He had already heard about Gilder; but he had
not yet learned of Laffan's death. He said:
“That's just it. Gilder and Laffan get all the good things that come
along and I never get anything.”
Then, suddenly remembering, he added:
“How curious it is! I have been thinking of Laffan coming down on
the train, and mentally writing a letter to him on this Stetson-Eddy
affair.”