The Washington Correspondents Club held its anniversary on Saturday
night. Mr. Clemens, better known as Mark Twain, responded to the toast,
“Woman, the pride of the professions and the jewel of ours.” He said:
Mr. President,--I do not know why I should have been singled out to
receive the greatest distinction of the evening--for so the office
of replying to the toast to woman has been regarded in every age.
[Applause.] I do not know why I have received this distinction, unless
it be that I am a trifle less homely than the other members of the club.
But, be this as it may, Mr. President, I am proud of the position,
and you could not have chosen any one who would have accepted it more
gladly, or labored with a heartier good--will to do the subject justice,
than I. Because, Sir, I love the sex. [Laughter.] I love all the women,
sir, irrespective of age or color. [Laughter.]
Human intelligence cannot estimate what we owe to woman, sir. She sews
on our buttons [laughter]; she mends our clothes [laughter]; she ropes
us in at the church fairs; she confides in us; she tells us whatever she
can find out about the private affairs of the neighbors; she gives
good advice, and plenty of it; she gives us a piece of her mind
sometimes--and sometimes all of it; she soothes our aching brows; she
bears our children. (Ours as a general thing.)--[this last sentence
appears in Twain's published speeches and may have been added later.
D.W.]
In all relations of life, sir, it is but just and a graceful tribute to
woman to say of her that she is a brick. [Great laughter.]
Wheresoever you place woman, sir--in whatsoever position or estate--she
is an ornament to that place she occupies, and a treasure to the world.
[Here Mr. Twain paused, looked inquiringly at his hearers, and remarked
that the applause should come in at this point. It came in. Mr. Twain
resumed his eulogy.] Look at the noble names of history! Look at
Cleopatra! Look at Desdemona! Look at Florence Nightingale! Look at Joan
of Arc! Look at Lucretia Borgia! [Disapprobation expressed. “Well,” said
Mr. Twain, scratching his head, doubtfully, “suppose we let Lucretia
slide.”] Look at Joyce Heth! Look at Mother Eve! I repeat, sir, look
at the illustrious names of history! Look at the Widow Machree! Look
at Lucy Stone! Look at Elizabeth Cady Stanton! Look at George Francis
Train! [Great laughter.] And, sir, I say with bowed head and deepest
veneration, look at the mother of Washington! She raised a boy that
could not lie--could not lie. [Applause.] But he never had any chance.
It might have been different with him if he had belonged to a newspaper
correspondents' club. [Laughter, groans, hisses, cries of “put him out.”
Mark looked around placidly upon his excited audience, and resumed.]
I repeat, sir, that in whatsoever position you place a woman she is an
ornament to society and a treasure to the world. As a sweetheart she has
few equals and no superior [laughter]; as a cousin she is convenient; as
a wealthy grandmother with an incurable distemper she is precious; as a
wet nurse she has no equal among men! [Laughter.]
What, sir, would the people of this earth be without woman? They would
be scarce, sir. (Mighty scarce.)--[another line added later in the
published 'Speeches'. D.W.] Then let us cherish her, let us protect her,
let us give her our support, our encouragement, our sympathy--ourselves,
if we get a chance. [Laughter.]
But, jesting aside, Mr. President, woman is lovable, gracious, kind
of heart, beautiful; worthy of all respect, of all esteem, of all
deference. Not any here will refuse to drink her health right cordially,
for each and every one of us has personally known, loved, and honored
the very best one of them all--his own mother! [Applause.]