One of Belfast's local jokes was very good. It referred to the uniform

and inevitable fine of forty shillings and costs for uttering a party

cry--and it is no economical fine for a poor man, either, by the way.

They say that a policeman found a drunken man lying on the ground, up a

dark alley, entertaining himself with shouting, "To hell with!" "To hell

with!" The officer smelt a fine--informers get half.

"What's that you say?"

"To hell with!"

"To hell with who? To hell with what?"

"Ah, bedad, ye can finish it yourself--it's too expansive for me!"

I think the seditious disposition, restrained by the economical instinct,

is finely put in that.

THE FACTS CONCERNING THE RECENT RESIGNATION

WASHINGTON, December, 1867.

I have resigned. The government appears to go on much the same, but

there is a spoke out of its wheel, nevertheless. I was clerk of the

Senate Committee on Conchology, and I have thrown up the position.

I could see the plainest disposition on the part of the other members of

the government to debar me from having any voice in the counsels of the

nation, and so I could no longer hold office and retain my self-respect.

If I were to detail all the outrages that were heaped upon me during the

six days that I was connected with the government in an official

capacity, the narrative would fill a volume. They appointed me clerk of

that Committee on Conchology and then allowed me no amanuensis to play

billiards with. I would have borne that, lonesome as it was, if I had

met with that courtesy from the other members of the Cabinet which was my

due. But I did not. Whenever I observed that the head of a department

was pursuing a wrong course, I laid down everything and went and tried to

set him right, as it was my duty to do; and I never was thanked for it in

a single instance. I went, with the best intentions in the world, to the

Secretary of the Navy, and said:

"Sir, I cannot see that Admiral Farragut is doing anything but

skirmishing around there in Europe, having a sort of picnic. Now, that

may be all very well, but it does not exhibit itself to me in that light.

If there is no fighting for him to do, let him come home. There is no

use in a man having a whole fleet for a pleasure excursion. It is too

expensive. Mind, I do not object to pleasure excursions for the naval

officers--pleasure excursions that are in reason--pleasure excursions

that are economical. Now, they might go down the Mississippi

on a raft--"

You ought to have heard him storm! One would have supposed I had

committed a crime of some kind. But I didn't mind. I said it was cheap,

and full of republican simplicity, and perfectly safe. I said that, for

a tranquil pleasure excursion, there was nothing equal to a raft.

Then the Secretary of the Navy asked me who I was; and when I told him I

was connected with the government, he wanted to know in what capacity. I

said that, without remarking upon the singularity of such a question,

coming, as it did, from a member of that same government, I would inform

him that I was clerk of the Senate Committee on Conchology. Then there

was a fine storm! He finished by ordering me to leave the premises, and

give my attention strictly to my own business in future. My first

impulse was to get him removed. However, that would harm others besides

himself, and do me no real good, and so I let him stay.

I went next to the Secretary of War, who was not inclined to see me at

all until he learned that I was connected with the government. If I had

not been on important business, I suppose I could not have got in.

I asked him for alight (he was smoking at the time), and then I told him

I had no fault to find with his defending the parole stipulations of

General Lee and his comrades in arms, but that I could not approve of his

method of fighting the Indians on the Plains. I said he fought too

scattering. He ought to get the Indians more together--get them together

in some convenient place, where he could have provisions enough for both

parties, and then have a general massacre. I said there was nothing so

convincing to an Indian as a general massacre. If he could not approve

of the massacre, I said the next surest thing for an Indian was soap and

education. Soap and education are not as sudden as a massacre, but they

are more deadly in the long run; because a half-massacred Indian may

recover, but if you educate him and wash him, it is bound to finish him

some time or other. It undermines his constitution; it strikes at the

foundation of his being. "Sir," I said, "the time has come when

blood-curdling cruelty has become necessary. Inflict soap and a

spelling-book on every Indian that ravages the Plains, and let them die!"

The Secretary of War asked me if I was a member of the Cabinet, and I

said I was. He inquired what position I held, and I said I was clerk of

the Senate Committee on Conchology. I was then ordered under arrest for

contempt of court, and restrained of my liberty for the best part of the

day.

I almost resolved to be silent thenceforward, and let the Government get

along the best way it could. But duty called, and I obeyed. I called on

the Secretary of the Treasury. He said:

"What will you have?"

The question threw me off my guard. I said, "Rum punch."

He said: "If you have got any business here, sir, state it--and in as few

words as possible."

I then said that I was sorry he had seen fit to change the subject so

abruptly, because such conduct was very offensive to me; but under the

circumstances I would overlook the matter and come to the point. I now

went into an earnest expostulation with him upon the extravagant length

of his report. I said it was expensive, unnecessary, and awkwardly

constructed; there were no descriptive passages in it, no poetry, no

sentiment no heroes, no plot, no pictures--not even wood-cuts. Nobody

would read it, that was a clear case. I urged him not to ruin his

reputation by getting out a thing like that. If he ever hoped to succeed

in literature he must throw more variety into his writings. He must

beware of dry detail. I said that the main popularity of the almanac was

derived from its poetry and conundrums, and that a few conundrums

distributed around through his Treasury report would help the sale of it

more than all the internal revenue he could put into it. I said these

things in the kindest spirit, and yet the Secretary of the Treasury fell

into a violent passion. He even said I was an ass. He abused me in the

most vindictive manner, and said that if I came there again meddling with

his business he would throw me out of the window. I said I would take my

hat and go, if I could not be treated with the respect due to my office,

and I did go. It was just like a new author. They always think they

know more than anybody else when they are getting out their first book.

Nobody can tell them anything.

During the whole time that I was connected with the government it seemed

as if I could not do anything in an official capacity without getting

myself into trouble. And yet I did nothing, attempted nothing, but what

I conceived to be for the good of my country. The sting of my wrongs may

have driven me to unjust and harmful conclusions, but it surely seemed to

me that the Secretary of State, the Secretary of War, the Secretary of

the Treasury, and others of my confreres had conspired from the very

beginning to drive me from the Administration. I never attended but one

Cabinet meeting while I was connected with the government. That was

sufficient for me. The servant at the White House door did not seem

disposed to make way for me until I asked if the other members of the

Cabinet had arrived. He said they had, and I entered. They were all

there; but nobody offered me a seat. They stared at me as if I had been

an intruder. The President said:

"Well, sir, who are you?"

I handed him my card, and he read: "The HON. MARK TWAIN, Clerk of the

Senate Committee on Conchology." Then he looked at me from head to foot,

as if he had never heard of me before. The Secretary of the Treasury

said:

"This is the meddlesome ass that came to recommend me to put poetry and

conundrums in my report, as if it were an almanac."

The Secretary of War said: "It is the same visionary that came to me

yesterday with a scheme to educate a portion of the Indians to death,

and massacre the balance."

The Secretary of the Navy said: "I recognize this youth as the person who

has been interfering with my business time and again during the week. He

is distressed about Admiral Farragut's using a whole fleet for a pleasure

excursion, as he terms it. His proposition about some insane pleasure

excursion on a raft is too absurd to repeat."

I said: "Gentlemen, I perceive here a disposition to throw discredit

upon every act of my official career; I perceive, also, a disposition to

debar me from all voice in the counsels of the nation. No notice

whatever was sent to me to-day. It was only by the merest chance that I

learned that there was going to be a Cabinet meeting. But let these

things pass. All I wish to know is, is this a Cabinet meeting or is it

not?"

The President said it was.

"Then," I said, "let us proceed to business at once, and not fritter away

valuable time in unbecoming fault-findings with each other's official

conduct."

The Secretary of State now spoke up, in his benignant way, and said,

"Young man, you are laboring under a mistake. The clerks of the

Congressional committees are not members of the Cabinet. Neither are the

doorkeepers of the Capitol, strange as it may seem. Therefore, much as

we could desire your more than human wisdom in our deliberations, we

cannot lawfully avail ourselves of it. The counsels of the nation must

proceed without you; if disaster follows, as follow full well it may, be

it balm to your sorrowing spirit that by deed and voice you did what in

you lay to avert it. You have my blessing. Farewell."

These gentle words soothed my troubled breast, and I went away. But the

servants of a nation can know no peace. I had hardly reached my den in

the Capitol, and disposed my feet on the table like a representative,

when one of the Senators on the Conchological Committee came in in a

passion and said:

"Where have you been all day?"

I observed that, if that was anybody's affair but my own, I had been to a

Cabinet meeting.

"To a Cabinet meeting? I would like to know what business you had at a

Cabinet meeting?"

I said I went there to consult--allowing for the sake of argument that he

was in any wise concerned in the matter. He grew insolent then, and

ended by saying he had wanted me for three days past to copy a report on

bomb-shells, egg-shells, clamshells, and I don't know what all, connected

with conchology, and nobody had been able to find me.

This was too much. This was the feather that broke the clerical camel's

back. I said, "Sir, do you suppose that I am going to work for six

dollars a day? If that is the idea, let me recommend the Senate

Committee on Conchology to hire somebody else. I am the slave of no

faction! Take back your degrading commission. Give me liberty, or give

me death!"

From that hour I was no longer connected with the government. Snubbed by

the department, snubbed by the Cabinet, snubbed at last by the chairman

of a committee I was endeavoring to adorn, I yielded to persecution, cast

far from me the perils and seductions of my great office, and forsook my

bleeding country in the hour of her peril.

But I had done the state some service, and I sent in my bill:

The United States of America in account with

the Hon. Clerk of the Senate Committee on Conchology, Dr.

To consultation with Secretary of War ............ $50

To consultation with Secretary of Navy ........... $50

To consultation with Secretary of the Treasury ... $50

Cabinet consultation ...................No charge.

To mileage to and from Jerusalem, via Egypt,

Algiers, Gibraltar, and Cadiz,

14,000 miles, at 20c. a mile ............. $2,800

To salary as Clerk of Senate Committee

on Conchology, six days, at $6 per day ........... $36

Total .......................... $2,986

--[Territorial delegates charge mileage both ways, although they never go

back when they get here once. Why my mileage is denied me is more than I

can understand.]

Not an item of this bill has been paid, except that trifle of thirty-six

dollars for clerkship salary. The Secretary of the Treasury, pursuing me

to the last, drew his pen through all the other items, and simply marked

in the margin "Not allowed." So, the dread alternative is embraced at

last. Repudiation has begun! The nation is lost.

I am done with official life for the present. Let those clerks who are

willing to be imposed on remain. I know numbers of them in the

departments who are never informed when there is to be a Cabinet meeting,

whose advice is never asked about war, or finance, or commerce, by the

heads of the nation, any more than if they were not connected with the

government, and who actually stay in their offices day after day and

work! They know their importance to the nation, and they unconsciously

show it in their bearing, and the way they order their sustenance at the

restaurant--but they work. I know one who has to paste all sorts of

little scraps from the newspapers into a scrapbook--sometimes as many as

eight or ten scraps a day. He doesn't do it well, but he does it as well

as he can. It is very fatiguing. It is exhausting to the intellect.

Yet he only gets eighteen hundred dollars a year. With a brain like his,

that young man could amass thousands and thousands of dollars in some

other pursuit, if he chose to do it. But no--his heart is with his

country, and he will serve her as long as she has got a scrapbook left.

And I know clerks that don't know how to write very well, but such

knowledge as they possess they nobly lay at the feet of their country,

and toil on and suffer for twenty-five hundred dollars a year. What they

write has to be written over again by other clerks sometimes; but when a

man has done his best for his country, should his country complain? Then

there are clerks that have no clerkships, and are waiting, and waiting,

and waiting for a vacancy--waiting patiently for a chance to help their

country out--and while they, are waiting, they only get barely two

thousand dollars a year for it. It is sad it is very, very sad. When a

member of Congress has a friend who is gifted, but has no employment

wherein his great powers may be brought to bear, he confers him upon his

country, and gives him a clerkship in a department. And there that man

has to slave his life out, fighting documents for the benefit of a nation

that never thinks of him, never sympathizes with him--and all for two

thousand or three thousand dollars a year. When I shall have completed

my list of all the clerks in the several departments, with my statement

of what they have to do, and what they get for it, you will see that

there are not half enough clerks, and that what there are do not get half

enough pay.

HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF

The following I find in a Sandwich Island paper which some friend has

sent me from that tranquil far-off retreat. The coincidence between my

own experience and that here set down by the late Mr. Benton is so

remarkable that I cannot forbear publishing and commenting upon the

paragraph. The Sandwich Island paper says:

How touching is this tribute of the late Hon. T. H. Benton to his

mother's influence:--'My mother asked me never to use tobacco; I have

never touched it from that time to the present day. She asked me not to

gamble, and I have never gambled. I cannot tell who is losing in games

that are being played. She admonished me, too, against liquor-drinking,

and whatever capacity for endurance I have at present, and whatever

usefulness I may have attained through life, I attribute to having

complied with her pious and correct wishes. When I was seven years of

age she asked me not to drink, and then I made a resolution of total

abstinence; and that I have adhered to it through all time I owe to my

mother.'

I never saw anything so curious. It is almost an exact epitome of my own

moral career--after simply substituting a grandmother for a mother. How

well I remember my grandmother's asking me not to use tobacco, good old

soul! She said, "You're at it again, are you, you whelp? Now don't ever

let me catch you chewing tobacco before breakfast again, or I lay I'll

blacksnake you within an inch of your life!" I have never touched it at

that hour of the morning from that time to the present day.

She asked me not to gamble. She whispered and said, "Put up those wicked

cards this minute!--two pair and a jack, you numskull, and the other

fellow's got a flush!"

I never have gambled from that day to this--never once--without a "cold

deck" in my pocket. I cannot even tell who is going to lose in games

that are being played unless I deal myself.

When I was two years of age she asked me not to drink, and then I made a

resolution of total abstinence. That I have adhered to it and enjoyed

the beneficent effects of it through all time, I owe to my grandmother.

I have never drunk a drop from that day to this of any kind of water.

HONORED AS A CURIOSITY

If you get into conversation with a stranger in Honolulu, and experience

that natural desire to know what sort of ground you are treading on by

finding out what manner of man your stranger is, strike out boldly and

address him as "Captain." Watch him narrowly, and if you see by his

countenance that you are on the wrong track, ask him where he preaches.

It is a safe bet that he is either a missionary or captain of a whaler.

I became personally acquainted with seventy-two captains and ninety-six

missionaries. The captains and ministers form one-half of the

population; the third fourth is composed of common Kanakas and mercantile

foreigners and their families; and the final fourth is made up of high

officers of the Hawaiian Government. And there are just about cats

enough for three apiece all around.

A solemn stranger met me in the suburbs one day, and said:

"Good morning, your reverence. Preach in the stone church yonder, no

doubt!"

"No, I don't. I'm not a preacher."

"Really, I beg your pardon, captain. I trust you had a good season. How

much oil--"

"Oil! Why, what do you take me for? I'm not a whaler."

"Oh! I beg a thousand pardons, your Excellency. Major-General in the

household troops, no doubt? Minister of the Interior, likely? Secretary

of War? First Gentleman of the Bedchamber? Commissioner of the Royal--"

"Stuff, man! I'm not connected in any way with the government."

"Bless my life! Then who the mischief are you? what the mischief are

you? and how the mischief did you get here? and where in thunder did you

come from?"

"I'm only a private personage--an unassuming stranger--lately arrived

from America."

"No! Not a missionary! not a whaler! not a member of his Majesty's

government! not even a Secretary of the Navy! Ah! Heaven! it is too

blissful to be true, alas! I do but dream. And yet that noble, honest

countenance--those oblique, ingenuous eyes--that massive head, incapable

of--of anything; your hand; give me your hand, bright waif. Excuse these

tears. For sixteen weary years I have yearned for a moment like this,

and--"

Here his feelings were too much for him, and he swooned away. I pitied

this poor creature from the bottom of my heart. I was deeply moved.

I shed a few tears on him, and kissed him for his mother. I then took

what small change he had, and "shoved."

FIRST INTERVIEW WITH ARTEMUS WARD--[Written about 1870.]

I had never seen him before. He brought letters of introduction from

mutual friends in San Francisco, and by invitation I breakfasted with

him. It was almost religion, there in the silver-mines, to precede such

a meal with whisky cocktails. Artemus, with the true cosmopolitan

instinct, always deferred to the customs of the country he was in, and so

he ordered three of those abominations. Hingston was present. I said I

would rather not drink a whisky cocktail. I said it would go right to my

head, and confuse me so that I would be in a helpless tangle in ten

minutes. I did not want to act like a lunatic before strangers. But

Artemus gently insisted, and I drank the treasonable mixture under

protest, and felt all the time that I was doing a thing I might be sorry

for. In a minute or two I began to imagine that my ideas were clouded.

I waited in great anxiety for the conversation to open, with a sort of

vague hope that my understanding would prove clear, after all, and my

misgivings groundless.

Artemus dropped an unimportant remark or two, and then assumed a look of

superhuman earnestness, and made the following astounding speech. He

said:

"Now there is one thing I ought to ask you about before I forget it. You

have been here in Silver land--here in Nevada--two or three years, and,

of course, your position on the daily press has made it necessary for you

to go down in the mines and examine them carefully in detail, and

therefore you know all about the silver-mining business. Now what I want

to get at is--is, well, the way the deposits of ore are made, you know.

For instance. Now, as I understand it, the vein which contains the

silver is sandwiched in between casings of granite, and runs along the

ground, and sticks up like a curb stone. Well, take a vein forty feet

thick, for example, or eighty, for that matter, or even a hundred--say

you go down on it with a shaft, straight down, you know, or with what you

call 'incline' maybe you go down five hundred feet, or maybe you don't go

down but two hundred--anyway, you go down, and all the time this vein

grows narrower, when the casings come nearer or approach each other, you

may say--that is, when they do approach, which, of course, they do not

always do, particularly in cases where the nature of the formation is

such that they stand apart wider than they otherwise would, and which

geology has failed to account for, although everything in that science

goes to prove that, all things being equal, it would if it did not, or

would not certainly if it did, and then, of course, they are. Do not you

think it is?"

I said to myself:

"Now I just knew how it would be--that whisky cocktail has done the

business for me; I don't understand any more than a clam."

And then I said aloud:

"I--I--that is--if you don't mind, would you--would you say that over

again? I ought--"

"Oh, certainly, certainly! You see I am very unfamiliar with the

subject, and perhaps I don't present my case clearly, but I--"

"No, no-no, no-you state it plain enough, but that cocktail has muddled

me a little. But I will no, I do understand for that matter; but I would

get the hang of it all the better if you went over it again-and I'll pay

better attention this time."

He said; "Why, what I was after was this."

[Here he became even more fearfully impressive than ever, and emphasized

each particular point by checking it off on his finger-ends.]

"This vein, or lode, or ledge, or whatever you call it, runs along

between two layers of granite, just the same as if it were a sandwich.

Very well. Now suppose you go down on that, say a thousand feet, or

maybe twelve hundred (it don't really matter) before you drift, and then

you start your drifts, some of them across the ledge, and others along

the length of it, where the sulphurets--I believe they call them

sulphurets, though why they should, considering that, so far as I can

see, the main dependence of a miner does not so lie, as some suppose, but

in which it cannot be successfully maintained, wherein the same should

not continue, while part and parcel of the same ore not committed to

either in the sense referred to, whereas, under different circumstances,

the most inexperienced among us could not detect it if it were, or might

overlook it if it did, or scorn the very idea of such a thing, even

though it were palpably demonstrated as such. Am I not right?"

I said, sorrowfully: "I feel ashamed of myself, Mr. Ward. I know I

ought to understand you perfectly well, but you see that treacherous

whisky cocktail has got into my head, and now I cannot understand even

the simplest proposition. I told you how it would be."

"Oh, don't mind it, don't mind it; the fault was my own, no doubt--though

I did think it clear enough for--"

"Don't say a word. Clear! Why, you stated it as clear as the sun to

anybody but an abject idiot; but it's that confounded cocktail that has

played the mischief."

"No; now don't say that. I'll begin it all over again, and--"

"Don't now--for goodness' sake, don't do anything of the kind, because I

tell you my head is in such a condition that I don't believe I could

understand the most trifling question a man could ask me.

"Now don't you be afraid. I'll put it so plain this time that you can't

help but get the hang of it. We will begin at the very beginning."

[Leaning far across the table, with determined impressiveness wrought

upon his every feature, and fingers prepared to keep tally of each point

enumerated; and I, leaning forward with painful interest, resolved to

comprehend or perish.] "You know the vein, the ledge, the thing that

contains the metal, whereby it constitutes the medium between all other

forces, whether of present or remote agencies, so brought to bear in

favor of the former against the latter, or the latter against the former

or all, or both, or compromising the relative differences existing within

the radius whence culminate the several degrees of similarity to which--"

I said: "Oh, hang my wooden head, it ain't any use!--it ain't any use to

try--I can't understand anything. The plainer you get it the more I

can't get the hang of it."

I heard a suspicious noise behind me, and turned in time to see Hingston

dodging behind a newspaper, and quaking with a gentle ecstasy of

laughter. I looked at Ward again, and he had thrown off his dread

solemnity and was laughing also. Then I saw that I had been sold--that I

had been made a victim of a swindle in the way of a string of plausibly

worded sentences that didn't mean anything under the sun. Artemus Ward

was one of the best fellows in the world, and one of the most

companionable. It has been said that he was not fluent in conversation,

but, with the above experience in my mind, I differ.

CANNIBALISM IN THE CARS--[Written abort 1867.]

I visited St. Louis lately, and on my way West, after changing cars at

Terre Haute, Indiana, a mild, benevolent-looking gentleman of about

forty-five, or maybe fifty, came in at one of the way-stations and sat

down beside me. We talked together pleasantly on various subjects for an

hour, perhaps, and I found him exceedingly intelligent and entertaining.

When he learned that I was from Washington, he immediately began to ask

questions about various public men, and about Congressional affairs; and

I saw very shortly that I was conversing with a man who was perfectly

familiar with the ins and outs of political life at the Capital, even to

the ways and manners, and customs of procedure of Senators and

Representatives in the Chambers of the national Legislature. Presently

two men halted near us for a single moment, and one said to the other:

"Harris, if you'll do that for me, I'll never forget you, my boy."

My new comrade's eye lighted pleasantly. The words had touched upon a

happy memory, I thought. Then his face settled into thoughtfulness

--almost into gloom. He turned to me and said,

"Let me tell you a story; let me give you a secret chapter of my life

--a chapter that has never been referred to by me since its events

transpired. Listen patiently, and promise that you will not interrupt

me."

I said I would not, and he related the following strange adventure,

speaking sometimes with animation, sometimes with melancholy, but always

with feeling and earnestness.

THE STRANGER'S NARRATIVE

"On the 19th of December, 1853, I started from St. Louis on the evening

train bound for Chicago. There were only twenty-four passengers, all

told. There were no ladies and no children. We were in excellent

spirits, and pleasant acquaintanceships were soon formed. The journey

bade fair to be a happy one; and no individual in the party, I think, had

even the vaguest presentiment of the horrors we were soon to undergo.

"At 11 P.m. it began to snow hard. Shortly after leaving the small

village of Welden, we entered upon that tremendous prairie solitude that

stretches its leagues on leagues of houseless dreariness far away toward

the jubilee Settlements. The winds, unobstructed by trees or hills, or

even vagrant rocks, whistled fiercely across the level desert, driving

the falling snow before it like spray from the crested waves of a stormy

sea. The snow was deepening fast; and we knew, by the diminished speed

of the train, that the engine was plowing through it with steadily

increasing difficulty. Indeed, it almost came to a dead halt sometimes,

in the midst of great drifts that piled themselves like colossal graves

across the track. Conversation began to flag. Cheerfulness gave place

to grave concern. The possibility of being imprisoned in the snow, on

the bleak prairie, fifty miles from any house, presented itself to every

mind, and extended its depressing influence over every spirit.

"At two o'clock in the morning I was aroused out of an uneasy slumber by

the ceasing of all motion about me. The appalling truth flashed upon me

instantly--we were captives in a snow-drift! 'All hands to the rescue!'

Every man sprang to obey. Out into the wild night, the pitchy darkness,

the billowy snow, the driving storm, every soul leaped, with the

consciousness that a moment lost now might bring destruction to us all.

Shovels, hands, boards--anything, everything that could displace snow,

was brought into instant requisition. It was a weird picture, that small

company of frantic men fighting the banking snows, half in the blackest

shadow and half in the angry light of the locomotive's reflector.

"One short hour sufficed to prove the utter uselessness of our efforts.

The storm barricaded the track with a dozen drifts while we dug one away.

And worse than this, it was discovered that the last grand charge the

engine had made upon the enemy had broken the fore-and-aft shaft of the

driving-wheel! With a free track before us we should still have been

helpless. We entered the car wearied with labor, and very sorrowful.

We gathered about the stoves, and gravely canvassed our situation. We

had no provisions whatever--in this lay our chief distress. We could not

freeze, for there was a good supply of wood in the tender. This was our

only comfort. The discussion ended at last in accepting the

disheartening decision of the conductor, viz., that it would be death for

any man to attempt to travel fifty miles on foot through snow like that.

We could not send for help, and even if we could it would not come. We

must submit, and await, as patiently as we might, succor or starvation!

I think the stoutest heart there felt a momentary chill when those words

were uttered.

"Within the hour conversation subsided to a low murmur here and there

about the car, caught fitfully between the rising and falling of the

blast; the lamps grew dim; and the majority of the castaways settled

themselves among the flickering shadows to think--to forget the present,

if they could--to sleep, if they might.

"The eternal night-it surely seemed eternal to us-wore its lagging hours

away at last, and the cold gray dawn broke in the east. As the light

grew stronger the passengers began to stir and give signs of life, one

after another, and each in turn pushed his slouched hat up from his

forehead, stretched his stiffened limbs, and glanced out of the windows

upon the cheerless prospect. It was cheer less, indeed!-not a living

thing visible anywhere, not a human habitation; nothing but a vast white

desert; uplifted sheets of snow drifting hither and thither before the

wind--a world of eddying flakes shutting out the firmament above.

"All day we moped about the cars, saying little, thinking much. Another

lingering dreary night--and hunger.

"Another dawning--another day of silence, sadness, wasting hunger,

hopeless watching for succor that could not come. A night of restless

slumber, filled with dreams of feasting--wakings distressed with the

gnawings of hunger.

"The fourth day came and went--and the fifth! Five days of dreadful

imprisonment! A savage hunger looked out at every eye. There was in it

a sign of awful import--the foreshadowing of a something that was vaguely

shaping itself in every heart--a something which no tongue dared yet to

frame into words.

"The sixth day passed--the seventh dawned upon as gaunt and haggard and

hopeless a company of men as ever stood in the shadow of death. It must

out now! That thing which had been growing up in every heart was ready

to leap from every lip at last! Nature had been taxed to the utmost--she

must yield. RICHARD H. GASTON of Minnesota, tall, cadaverous, and pale,

rose up. All knew what was coming. All prepared--every emotion, every

semblance of excitement--was smothered--only a calm, thoughtful

seriousness appeared in the eyes that were lately so wild.

"'Gentlemen: It cannot be delayed longer! The time is at hand! We must

determine which of us shall die to furnish food for the rest!'

"MR. JOHN J. WILLIAMS of Illinois rose and said: 'Gentlemen--I nominate

the Rev. James Sawyer of Tennessee.'

"MR. Wm. R. ADAMS of Indiana said: 'I nominate Mr. Daniel Slote of New

York.'

"MR. CHARLES J. LANGDON: 'I nominate Mr. Samuel A. Bowen of St. Louis.'

"MR. SLOTE: 'Gentlemen--I desire to decline in favor of Mr. John A. Van

Nostrand, Jun., of New Jersey.'

"MR. GASTON: 'If there be no objection, the gentleman's desire will be

acceded to.'

"MR. VAN NOSTRAND objecting, the resignation of Mr. Slote was rejected.

The resignations of Messrs. Sawyer and Bowen were also offered, and

refused upon the same grounds.

"MR. A. L. BASCOM of Ohio: 'I move that the nominations now close, and

that the House proceed to an election by ballot.'

"MR. SAWYER: 'Gentlemen--I protest earnestly against these proceedings.

They are, in every way, irregular and unbecoming. I must beg to move

that they be dropped at once, and that we elect a chairman of the meeting

and proper officers to assist him, and then we can go on with the

business before us understandingly.'

"MR. BELL of Iowa: 'Gentlemen--I object. This is no time to stand upon

forms and ceremonious observances. For more than seven days we have been

without food. Every moment we lose in idle discussion increases our

distress. I am satisfied with the nominations that have been made--every

gentleman present is, I believe--and I, for one, do not see why we should

not proceed at once to elect one or more of them. I wish to offer a

resolution--'

"MR. GASTON: 'It would be objected to, and have to lie over one day under

the rules, thus bringing about the very delay you wish to avoid. The

gentleman from New Jersey--'

"MR. VAN NOSTRAND: 'Gentlemen--I am a stranger among you; I have not

sought the distinction that has been conferred upon me, and I feel a

delicacy--'

"MR. MORGAN Of Alabama (interrupting): 'I move the previous question.'

"The motion was carried, and further debate shut off, of course. The

motion to elect officers was passed, and under it Mr. Gaston was chosen

chairman, Mr. Blake, secretary, Messrs. Holcomb, Dyer, and Baldwin a

committee on nominations, and Mr. R. M. Howland, purveyor, to assist the

committee in making selections.

"A recess of half an hour was then taken, and some little caucusing

followed. At the sound of the gavel the meeting reassembled, and the

committee reported in favor of Messrs. George Ferguson of Kentucky,

Lucien Herrman of Louisiana, and W. Messick of Colorado as candidates.

The report was accepted.

"MR. ROGERS of Missouri: 'Mr. President The report being properly before

the House now, I move to amend it by substituting for the name of Mr.

Herrman that of Mr. Lucius Harris of St. Louis, who is well and

honorably known to us all. I do not wish to be understood as casting the

least reflection upon the high character and standing of the gentleman

from Louisiana far from it. I respect and esteem him as much as any

gentleman here present possibly can; but none of us can be blind to the

fact that he has lost more flesh during the week that we have lain here

than any among us--none of us can be blind to the fact that the committee

has been derelict in its duty, either through negligence or a graver

fault, in thus offering for our suffrages a gentleman who, however pure

his own motives may be, has really less nutriment in him--'

"THE CHAIR: 'The gentleman from Missouri will take his seat. The Chair

cannot allow the integrity of the committee to be questioned save by the

regular course, under the rules. What action will the House take upon

the gentleman's motion?'

"MR. HALLIDAY of Virginia: 'I move to further amend the report by

substituting Mr. Harvey Davis of Oregon for Mr. Messick. It may be urged

by gentlemen that the hardships and privations of a frontier life have

rendered Mr. Davis tough; but, gentlemen, is this a time to cavil at

toughness? Is this a time to be fastidious concerning trifles? Is this

a time to dispute about matters of paltry significance? No, gentlemen,

bulk is what we desire--substance, weight, bulk--these are the supreme

requisites now--not talent, not genius, not education. I insist upon my

motion.'

"MR. MORGAN (excitedly): 'Mr. Chairman--I do most strenuously object to

this amendment. The gentleman from Oregon is old, and furthermore is

bulky only in bone--not in flesh. I ask the gentleman from Virginia if

it is soup we want instead of solid sustenance? if he would delude us

with shadows? if he would mock our suffering with an Oregonian specter?

I ask him if he can look upon the anxious faces around him, if he can

gaze into our sad eyes, if he can listen to the beating of our expectant

hearts, and still thrust this famine-stricken fraud upon us? I ask him

if he can think of our desolate state, of our past sorrows, of our dark

future, and still unpityingly foist upon us this wreck, this ruin, this

tottering swindle, this gnarled and blighted and sapless vagabond from

Oregon's hospitable shores? Never!' [Applause.]

"The amendment was put to vote, after a fiery debate, and lost. Mr.

Harris was substituted on the first amendment. The balloting then began.

Five ballots were held without a choice. On the sixth, Mr. Harris was

elected, all voting for him but himself. It was then moved that his

election should be ratified by acclamation, which was lost, in

consequence of his again voting against himself.

"MR. RADWAY moved that the House now take up the remaining candidates,

and go into an election for breakfast. This was carried.

"On the first ballot--there was a tie, half the members favoring one

candidate on account of his youth, and half favoring the other on account

of his superior size. The President gave the casting vote for the

latter, Mr. Messick. This decision created considerable dissatisfaction

among the friends of Mr. Ferguson, the defeated candidate, and there was

some talk of demanding a new ballot; but in the midst of it a motion to

adjourn was carried, and the meeting broke up at once.

"The preparations for supper diverted the attention of the Ferguson

faction from the discussion of their grievance for a long time, and then,

when they would have taken it up again, the happy announcement that Mr.

Harris was ready drove all thought of it to the winds.

"We improvised tables by propping up the backs of car-seats, and sat down

with hearts full of gratitude to the finest supper that had blessed our

vision for seven torturing days. How changed we were from what we had

been a few short hours before! Hopeless, sad-eyed misery, hunger,

feverish anxiety, desperation, then; thankfulness, serenity, joy too deep

for utterance now. That I know was the cheeriest hour of my eventful

life. The winds howled, and blew the snow wildly about our prison house,

but they were powerless to distress us any more. I liked Harris. He

might have been better done, perhaps, but I am free to say that no man

ever agreed with me better than Harris, or afforded me so large a degree

of satisfaction. Messick was very well, though rather high-flavored,

but for genuine nutritiousness and delicacy of fiber, give me Harris.

Messick had his good points--I will not attempt to deny it, nor do I wish

to do it but he was no more fitted for breakfast than a mummy would be,

sir--not a bit. Lean?--why, bless me!--and tough? Ah, he was very

tough! You could not imagine it--you could never imagine anything like

it."

"Do you mean to tell me that--"

"Do not interrupt me, please. After breakfast we elected a man by the

name of Walker, from Detroit, for supper. He was very good. I wrote his

wife so afterward. He was worthy of all praise. I shall always remember

Walker. He was a little rare, but very good. And then the next morning

we had Morgan of Alabama for breakfast. He was one of the finest men I

ever sat down to handsome, educated, refined, spoke several languages

fluently a perfect gentleman he was a perfect gentleman, and singularly

juicy. For supper we had that Oregon patriarch, and he was a fraud,

there is no question about it--old, scraggy, tough, nobody can picture

the reality. I finally said, gentlemen, you can do as you like, but I

will wait for another election. And Grimes of Illinois said, 'Gentlemen,

I will wait also. When you elect a man that has something to recommend

him, I shall be glad to join you again.' It soon became evident that

there was general dissatisfaction with Davis of Oregon, and so, to

preserve the good will that had prevailed so pleasantly since we had had

Harris, an election was called, and the result of it was that Baker of

Georgia was chosen. He was splendid! Well, well--after that we had

Doolittle, and Hawkins, and McElroy (there was some complaint about

McElroy, because he was uncommonly short and thin), and Penrod, and two

Smiths, and Bailey (Bailey had a wooden leg, which was clear loss, but he

was otherwise good), and an Indian boy, and an organ-grinder, and a

gentleman by the name of Buckminster--a poor stick of a vagabond that

wasn't any good for company and no account for breakfast. We were glad

we got him elected before relief came."

"And so the blessed relief did come at last?"

"Yes, it came one bright, sunny morning, just after election. John

Murphy was the choice, and there never was a better, I am willing to

testify; but John Murphy came home with us, in the train that came to

succor us, and lived to marry the widow Harris--"

"Relict of--"

"Relict of our first choice. He married her, and is happy and respected

and prosperous yet. Ah, it was like a novel, sir--it was like a romance.

This is my stopping-place, sir; I must bid you goodby. Any time that you

can make it convenient to tarry a day or two with me, I shall be glad to

have you. I like you, sir; I have conceived an affection for you.

I could like you as well as I liked Harris himself, sir. Good day, sir,

and a pleasant journey."

He was gone. I never felt so stunned, so distressed, so bewildered in my

life. But in my soul I was glad he was gone. With all his gentleness of

manner and his soft voice, I shuddered whenever he turned his hungry eye

upon me; and when I heard that I had achieved his perilous affection, and

that I stood almost with the late Harris in his esteem, my heart fairly

stood still!

I was bewildered beyond description. I did not doubt his word; I could

not question a single item in a statement so stamped with the earnestness

of truth as his; but its dreadful details overpowered me, and threw my

thoughts into hopeless confusion. I saw the conductor looking at me.

I said, "Who is that man?"

"He was a member of Congress once, and a good one. But he got caught in

a snow-drift in the cars, and like to have been starved to death. He got

so frost-bitten and frozen up generally, and used up for want of

something to eat, that he was sick and out of his head two or three

months afterward. He is all right now, only he is a monomaniac, and when

he gets on that old subject he never stops till he has eat up that whole

car-load of people he talks about. He would have finished the crowd by

this time, only he had to get out here. He has got their names as pat as

A B C. When he gets them all eat up but himself, he always says: 'Then

the hour for the usual election for breakfast having arrived; and there

being no opposition, I was duly elected, after which, there being no

objections offered, I resigned. Thus I am here.'"

I felt inexpressibly relieved to know that I had only been listening to

the harmless vagaries of a madman instead of the genuine experiences of a

bloodthirsty cannibal.

THE KILLING OF JULIUS CAESAR "LOCALIZED"--[Written about 1865.]

Being the only true and reliable account ever published; taken from the

Roman "Daily Evening Fasces," of the date of that tremendous occurrence.

Nothing in the world affords a newspaper reporter so much satisfaction as

gathering up the details of a bloody and mysterious murder and writing

them up with aggravating circumstantiality. He takes a living delight in

this labor of love--for such it is to him, especially if he knows that

all the other papers have gone to press, and his will be the only one

that will contain the dreadful intelligence. A feeling of regret has

often come over me that I was not reporting in Rome when Caesar was

killed--reporting on an evening paper, and the only one in the city, and

getting at least twelve hours ahead of the morning-paper boys with this

most magnificent "item" that ever fell to the lot of the craft. Other

events have happened as startling as this, but none that possessed so

peculiarly all the characteristics of the favorite "item" of the present

day, magnified into grandeur and sublimity by the high rank, fame, and

social and political standing of the actors in it.

However, as I was not permitted to report Caesar's assassination in the

regular way, it has at least afforded me rare satisfaction to translate

the following able account of it from the original Latin of the Roman

Daily Evening Fasces of that date--second edition:

Our usually quiet city of Rome was thrown into a state of wild excitement

yesterday by the occurrence of one of those bloody affrays which sicken

the heart and fill the soul with fear, while they inspire all thinking

men with forebodings for the future of a city where human life is held so

cheaply and the gravest laws are so openly set at defiance. As the

result of that affray, it is our painful duty, as public journalists, to

record the death of one of our most esteemed citizens--a man whose name

is known wherever this paper circulates, and where fame it has been our

pleasure and our privilege to extend, and also to protect from the tongue

of slander and falsehood, to the best of our poor ability. We refer to

Mr. J. Caesar, the Emperor-elect.

The facts of the case, as nearly as our reporter could determine them

from the conflicting statements of eye-witnesses, were about as

follows:-- The affair was an election row, of course. Nine-tenths of the

ghastly butcheries that disgrace the city nowadays grow out of the

bickerings and jealousies and animosities engendered by these accursed

elections. Rome would be the gainer by it if her very constables were

elected to serve a century; for in our experience we have never even been

able to choose a dog-pelter without celebrating the event with a dozen

knockdowns and a general cramming of the station-house with drunken

vagabonds overnight. It is said that when the immense majority for Caesar

at the polls in the market was declared the other day, and the crown was

offered to that gentleman, even his amazing unselfishness in refusing it

three times was not sufficient to save him from the whispered insults of

such men as Casca, of the Tenth Ward, and other hirelings of the

disappointed candidate, hailing mostly from the Eleventh and Thirteenth

and other outside districts, who were overheard speaking ironically and

contemptuously of Mr. Caesar's conduct upon that occasion.

We are further informed that there are many among us who think they are

justified in believing that the assassination of Julius Caesar was a

put-up thing--a cut-and-dried arrangement, hatched by Marcus Brutus and a

lot of his hired roughs, and carried out only too faithfully according to

the program. Whether there be good grounds for this suspicion or not, we

leave to the people to judge for themselves, only asking that they will

read the following account of the sad occurrence carefully and

dispassionately before they render that judgment.

The Senate was already in session, and Caesar was coming down the street

toward the capitol, conversing with some personal friends, and followed,

as usual, by a large number of citizens. Just as he was passing in front

of Demosthenes and Thucydides' drug store, he was observing casually to a

gentleman, who, our informant thinks, is a fortune-teller, that the Ides

of March were come. The reply was, "Yes, they are come, but not gone

yet." At this moment Artemidorus stepped up and passed the time of day,

and asked Caesar to read a schedule or a tract or something of the kind,

which he had brought for his perusal. Mr. Decius Brutus also said

something about an "humble suit" which he wanted read. Artexnidorus

begged that attention might be paid to his first, because it was of

personal consequence to Caesar. The latter replied that what concerned

himself should be read last, or words to that effect. Artemidorus begged

and beseeched him to read the paper instantly!--[Mark that: It is hinted

by William Shakespeare, who saw the beginning and the end of the

unfortunate affray, that this "schedule" was simply a note discovering to

Caesar that a plot was brewing to take his life.]--However, Caesar

shook him off, and refused to read any petition in the street. He then

entered the capitol, and the crowd followed him.

About this time the following conversation was overheard, and we consider

that, taken in connection with the events which succeeded it, it bears an

appalling significance: Mr. Papilius Lena remarked to George W. Cassias

(commonly known as the "Nobby Boy of the Third Ward"), a bruiser in the

pay of the Opposition, that he hoped his enterprise to-day might thrive;

and when Cassias asked "What enterprise?" he only closed his left eye

temporarily and said with simulated indifference, "Fare you well," and

sauntered toward Caesar. Marcus Brutus, who is suspected of being the

ringleader of the band that killed Caesar, asked what it was that Lena

had said. Cassias told him, and added in a low tone, "I fear our purpose

is discovered."

Brutus told his wretched accomplice to keep an eye on Lena, and a moment

after Cassias urged that lean and hungry vagrant, Casca, whose reputation

here is none of the best, to be sudden, for he feared prevention. He

then turned to Brutus, apparently much excited, and asked what should be

done, and swore that either he or Caesar would never turn back--he would

kill himself first. At this time Caesar was talking to some of the

back-country members about the approaching fall elections, and paying

little attention to what was going on around him. Billy Trebonius got

into conversation with the people's friend and Caesar's--Mark Antony--and

under some pretense or other got him away, and Brutus, Decius, Casca,

Cinna, Metellus Cimber, and others of the gang of infamous desperadoes

that infest Rome at present, closed around the doomed Caesar. Then

Metellus Cimber knelt down and begged that his brother might be recalled

from banishment, but Caesar rebuked him for his fawning conduct, and

refused to grant his petition. Immediately, at Cimber's request, first

Brutus and then Cassias begged for the return of the banished Publius;

but Caesar still refused. He said he could not be moved; that he was as

fixed as the North Star, and proceeded to speak in the most complimentary

terms of the firmness of that star and its steady character. Then he

said he was like it, and he believed he was the only man in the country

that was; therefore, since he was "constant" that Cimber should be

banished, he was also "constant" that he should stay banished, and he'd

be hanged if he didn't keep him so!

Instantly seizing upon this shallow pretext for a fight, Casca sprang at

Caesar and struck him with a dirk, Caesar grabbing him by the arm with

his right hand, and launching a blow straight from the shoulder with his

left, that sent the reptile bleeding to the earth. He then backed up

against Pompey's statue, and squared himself to receive his assailants.

Cassias and Cimber and Cinna rushed, upon him with their daggers drawn,

and the former succeeded in inflicting a wound upon his body; but before

he could strike again, and before either of the others could strike at

all, Caesar stretched the three miscreants at his feet with as many blows

of his powerful fist. By this time the Senate was in an indescribable

uproar; the throng of citizens is the lobbies had blockaded the doors in

their frantic efforts to escape from the building, the sergeant-at-arms

and his assistants were struggling with the assassins, venerable senators

had cast aside their encumbering robes, and were leaping over benches and

flying down the aisles in wild confusion toward the shelter of the

committee-rooms, and a thousand voices were shouting "Po-lice! Po-lice!"

in discordant tones that rose above the frightful din like shrieking

winds above the roaring of a tempest. And amid it all great Caesar stood

with his back against the statue, like a lion at bay, and fought his

assailants weaponless and hand to hand, with the defiant bearing and the

unwavering courage which he had shown before on many a bloody field.

Billy Trebonius and Caius Legarius struck him with their daggers and

fell, as their brother-conspirators before them had fallen. But at last,

when Caesar saw his old friend Brutus step forward armed with a murderous

knife, it is said he seemed utterly overpowered with grief and amazement,

and, dropping his invincible left arm by his side, he hid his face in the

folds of his mantle and received the treacherous blow without an effort

to stay the hand that gave it. He only said, "Et tu, Brute?" and fell

lifeless on the marble pavement.

We learn that the coat deceased had on when he was killed was the same

one he wore in his tent on the afternoon of the day he overcame the

Nervii, and that when it was removed from the corpse it was found to be

cut and gashed in no less than seven different places. There was nothing

in the pockets. It will be exhibited at the coroner's inquest, and will

be damning proof of the fact of the killing. These latter facts may be

relied on, as we get them from Mark Antony, whose position enables him to

learn every item of news connected with the one subject of absorbing

interest of-to-day.

LATER: While the coroner was summoning a jury, Mark Antony and other

friends of the late Caesar got hold of the body, and lugged it off to the

Forum, and at last accounts Antony and Brutus were making speeches over

it and raising such a row among the people that, as we go to press, the

chief of police is satisfied there is going to be a riot, and is taking

measures accordingly.

THE WIDOW'S PROTEST

One of the saddest things that ever came under my notice (said the

banker's clerk) was there in Corning during the war. Dan Murphy enlisted

as a private, and fought very bravely. The boys all liked him, and when

a wound by and by weakened him down till carrying a musket was too heavy

work for him, they clubbed together and fixed him up as a sutler. He

made money then, and sent it always to his wife to bank for him. She was

a washer and ironer, and knew enough by hard experience to keep money

when she got it. She didn't waste a penny.

On the contrary, she began to get miserly as her bank-account grew. She

grieved to part with a cent, poor creature, for twice in her hard-working

life she had known what it was to be hungry, cold, friendless, sick, and

without a dollar in the world, and she had a haunting dread of suffering

so again. Well, at last Dan died; and the boys, in testimony of their

esteem and respect for him, telegraphed to Mrs. Murphy to know if she

would like to have him embalmed and sent home; when you know the usual

custom was to dump a poor devil like him into a shallow hole, and then

inform his friends what had become of him. Mrs. Murphy jumped to the

conclusion that it would only cost two or three dollars to embalm her

dead husband, and so she telegraphed "Yes." It was at the "wake" that

the bill for embalming arrived and was presented to the widow.

She uttered a wild, sad wail that pierced every heart, and said,

"Sivinty-foive dollars for stooffin' Dan, blister their sowls! Did thim

divils suppose I was goin' to stairt a Museim, that I'd be dalin' in such

expinsive curiassities !"

The banker's clerk said there was not a dry eye in the house.

THE SCRIPTURAL PANORAMIST--[Written about 1866.]

"There was a fellow traveling around in that country," said Mr.

Nickerson, "with a moral-religious show--a sort of scriptural panorama

--and he hired a wooden-headed old slab to play the piano for him.

After the first night's performance the showman says:

"'My friend, you seem to know pretty much all the tunes there are, and

you worry along first rate. But then, didn't you notice that sometimes

last night the piece you happened to be playing was a little rough on the

proprieties, so to speak--didn't seem to jibe with the general gait of

the picture that was passing at the time, as it were--was a little

foreign to the subject, you know--as if you didn't either trump or follow

suit, you understand?'

"'Well, no,' the fellow said; 'he hadn't noticed, but it might be; he had

played along just as it came handy.'

"So they put it up that the simple old dummy was to keep his eye on the

panorama after that, and as soon as a stunning picture was reeled out he

was to fit it to a dot with a piece of music that would help the audience

to get the idea of the subject, and warm them up like a camp-meeting

revival. That sort of thing would corral their sympathies, the showman

said.

"There was a big audience that night-mostly middle-aged and old people

who belong to the church, and took a strong interest in Bible matters,

and the balance were pretty much young bucks and heifers--they always

come out strong on panoramas, you know, because it gives them a chance to

taste one another's complexions in the dark.

"Well, the showman began to swell himself up for his lecture, and the old

mud-Jobber tackled the piano and ran his fingers up and down once or

twice to see that she was all right, and the fellows behind the curtain

commenced to grind out the panorama. The showman balanced his weight on

his right foot, and propped his hands over his hips, and flung his eyes

over his shoulder at the scenery, and said:

"'Ladies and gentlemen, the painting now before you illustrates the

beautiful and touching parable of the Prodigal Son. Observe the happy

expression just breaking over the features of the poor, suffering youth

--so worn and weary with his long march; note also the ecstasy beaming

from the uplifted countenance of the aged father, and the joy that

sparkles in the eyes of the excited group of youths and maidens, and

seems ready to burst into the welcoming chorus from their lips. The

lesson, my friends, is as solemn and instructive as the story is tender

and beautiful.'

"The mud-Jobber was all ready, and when the second speech was finished,

struck up:

"Oh, we'll all get blind drunk

When Johnny comes marching home!

"Some of the people giggled, and some groaned a little. The showman

couldn't say a word; he looked at the pianist sharp, but he was all

lovely and serene--he didn't know there was anything out of gear.

"The panorama moved on, and the showman drummed up his grit and started

in fresh.

"'Ladies and gentlemen, the fine picture now unfolding itself to your

gaze exhibits one of the most notable events in Bible history--our

Saviour and His disciples upon the Sea of Galilee. How grand, how

awe-inspiring are the reflections which the subject invokes! What

sublimity of faith is revealed to us in this lesson from the sacred

writings! The Saviour rebukes the angry waves, and walks securely

upon the bosom of the deep!'

"All around the house they were whispering, 'Oh, how lovely, how

beautiful!' and the orchestra let himself out again:

"A life on the ocean wave,

And a home on the rolling deep!

"There was a good deal of honest snickering turned on this time, and

considerable groaning, and one or two old deacons got up and went out.

The showman grated his teeth, and cursed the piano man to himself; but

the fellow sat there like a knot on a log, and seemed to think he was

doing first-rate.

"After things got quiet the showman thought he would make one more

stagger at it, anyway, though his confidence was beginning to get mighty

shaky. The supes started the panorama grinding along again, and he says:

"'Ladies and gentlemen, this exquisite painting represents the raising of

Lazarus from the dead by our Saviour. The subject has been handled with

marvelous skill by the artist, and such touching sweetness and tenderness

of expression has he thrown into it that I have known peculiarly

sensitive persons to be even affected to tears by looking at it. Observe

the half-confused, half-inquiring look upon the countenance of the

awakened Lazarus. Observe, also, the attitude and expression of the

Saviour, who takes him gently by the sleeve of his shroud with one hand,

while He points with the other toward the distant city.'

"Before anybody could get off an opinion in the case the innocent old ass

at the piano struck up:

"Come rise up, William Ri-i-ley,

And go along with me!

"Whe-ew! All the solemn old flats got up in a huff to go, and everybody

else laughed till the windows rattled.

"The showman went down and grabbed the orchestra and shook him up and

says:

"'That lets you out, you know, you chowder-headed old clam. Go to the

doorkeeper and get your money, and cut your stick--vamose the ranch!

Ladies and gentlemen, circumstances over which I have no control compel

me prematurely to dismiss the house.'"

CURING A COLD--[Written about 1864]

It is a good thing, perhaps, to write for the amusement of the public,

but it is a far higher and nobler thing to write for their instruction,

their profit, their actual and tangible benefit. The latter is the sole

object of this article. If it prove the means of restoring to health one

solitary sufferer among my race, of lighting up once more the fire of

hope and joy in his faded eyes, or bringing back to his dead heart again

the quick, generous impulses of other days, I shall be amply rewarded for

my labor; my soul will be permeated with the sacred delight a Christian.

feels when he has done a good, unselfish deed.

Having led a pure and blameless life, I am justified in believing that no

man who knows me will reject the suggestions I am about to make, out of

fear that I am trying to deceive him. Let the public do itself the honor

to read my experience in doctoring a cold, as herein set forth, and then

follow in my footsteps.

When the White House was burned in Virginia City, I lost my home, my

happiness, my constitution, and my trunk. The loss of the two first

named articles was a matter of no great consequence, since a home without

a mother, or a sister, or a distant young female relative in it, to

remind you, by putting your soiled linen out of sight and taking your

boots down off the mantelpiece, that there are those who think about you

and care for you, is easily obtained. And I cared nothing for the loss

of my happiness, because, not being a poet, it could not be possible that

melancholy would abide with me long. But to lose a good constitution and

a better trunk were serious misfortunes. On the day of the fire my

constitution succumbed to a severe cold, caused by undue exertion in

getting ready to do something. I suffered to no purpose, too, because

the plan I was figuring at for the extinguishing of the fire was so

elaborate that I never got it completed until the middle of the following

week.

The first time I began to sneeze, a friend told me to go and bathe my

feet in hot water and go to bed. I did so. Shortly afterward, another

friend advised me to get up and take a cold shower-bath. I did that

also. Within the hour, another friend assured me that it was policy to

"feed a cold and starve a fever." I had both. So I thought it best to

fill myself up for the cold, and then keep dark and let the fever starve

awhile.

In a case of, this kind, I seldom do things by halves; I ate pretty

heartily; I conferred my custom upon a stranger who had just opened his

restaurant that morning; he waited near me in respectful silence until I

had finished feeding my cold, when he inquired if the people about

Virginia City were much afflicted with colds? I told him I thought they

were. He then went out and took in his sign.

I started down toward the office, and on the way encountered another

bosom friend, who told me that a quart of salt-water, taken warm, would

come as near curing a cold as anything in the world. I hardly thought I

had room for it, but I tried it anyhow. The result was surprising. I

believed I had thrown up my immortal soul.

Now, as I am giving my experience only for the benefit of those who are

troubled with the distemper I am writing about, I feel that they will see

the propriety of my cautioning them against following such portions of it

as proved inefficient with me, and acting upon this conviction, I warn

them against warm salt-water. It may be a good enough remedy, but I

think it is too severe. If I had another cold in the head, and there

were no course left me but to take either an earthquake or a quart of

warm saltwater, I would take my chances on the earthquake.

After the storm which had been raging in my stomach had subsided, and no

more good Samaritans happening along, I went on borrowing handkerchiefs

again and blowing them to atoms, as had been my custom in the early

stages of my cold, until I came across a lady who had just arrived from

over the plains, and who said she had lived in a part of the country

where doctors were scarce, and had from necessity acquired considerable

skill in the treatment of simple "family complaints." I knew she must

have had much experience, for she appeared to be a hundred and fifty

years old.

She mixed a decoction composed of molasses, aquafortis, turpentine, and

various other drugs, and instructed me to take a wine-glass full of it

every fifteen minutes. I never took but one dose; that was enough; it

robbed me of all moral principle, and awoke every unworthy impulse of my

nature. Under its malign influence my brain conceived miracles of

meanness, but my hands were too feeble to execute them; at that time, had

it not been that my strength had surrendered to a succession of assaults

from infallible remedies for my cold, I am satisfied that I would have

tried to rob the graveyard. Like most other people, I often feel mean,

and act accordingly; but until I took that medicine I had never reveled

in such supernatural depravity, and felt proud of it. At the end of two

days I was ready to go to doctoring again. I took a few more unfailing

remedies, and finally drove my cold from my head to my lungs.

I got to coughing incessantly, and my voice fell below zero; I conversed

in a thundering bass, two octaves below my natural tone; I could only

compass my regular nightly repose by coughing myself down to a state of

utter exhaustion, and then the moment I began to talk in my sleep, my

discordant voice woke me up again.

My case grew more and more serious every day. A Plain gin was

recommended; I took it. Then gin and molasses; I took that also. Then

gin and onions; I added the onions, and took all three. I detected no

particular result, however, except that I had acquired a breath like a

buzzard's.

I found I had to travel for my health. I went to Lake Bigler with my

reportorial comrade, Wilson. It is gratifying to me to reflect that we

traveled in considerable style; we went in the Pioneer coach, and my

friend took all his baggage with him, consisting of two excellent silk

handkerchiefs and a daguerreotype of his grandmother. We sailed and

hunted and fished and danced all day, and I doctored my cough all night.

By managing in this way, I made out to improve every hour in the

twenty-four. But my disease continued to grow worse.

A sheet-bath was recommended. I had never refused a remedy yet, and it

seemed poor policy to commence then; therefore I determined to take a

sheet-bath, notwithstanding I had no idea what sort of arrangement it

was. It was administered at midnight, and the weather was very frosty.

My breast and back were bared, and a sheet (there appeared to be a

thousand yards of it) soaked in ice-water, was wound around me until I

resembled a swab for a Columbiad.

It is a cruel expedient. When the chilly rag touches one's warm flesh,

it makes him start with sudden violence, and gasp for breath just as men

do in the death-agony. It froze the marrow in my bones and stopped the

beating of my heart. I thought my time had come.

Young Wilson said the circumstance reminded him of an anecdote about a

negro who was being baptized, and who slipped from the parson's grasp,

and came near being drowned. He floundered around, though, and finally

rose up out of the water considerably strangled and furiously angry, and

started ashore at once, spouting water like a whale, and remarking, with

great asperity, that "one o' dese days some gen'l'man's nigger gwyne to

get killed wid jis' such damn foolishness as dis!"

Never take a sheet-bath-never. Next to meeting a lady acquaintance who,

for reasons best known to herself, don't see you when she looks at you,

and don't know you when she does see you, it is the most uncomfortable

thing in the world.

But, as I was saying, when the sheet-bath failed to cure my cough,

a lady friend recommended the application of a mustard plaster to my

breast. I believe that would have cured me effectually, if it had not

been for young Wilson. When I went to bed, I put my mustard plaster

--which was a very gorgeous one, eighteen inches square--where I could

reach it when I was ready for it. But young Wilson got hungry in the

night, and here is food for the imagination.

After sojourning a week at Lake Bigler, I went to Steamboat Springs, and,

besides the steam-baths, I took a lot of the vilest medicines that were

ever concocted. They would have cured me, but I had to go back to

Virginia City, where, notwithstanding the variety of new remedies I

absorbed every day, I managed to aggravate my disease by carelessness and

undue exposure.

I finally concluded to visit San Francisco, and the, first day I got

there a lady at the hotel told me to drink a quart of whisky every

twenty-four hours, and a friend up-town recommended precisely the same

course. Each advised me to take a quart; that made half a gallon. I did

it, and still live.

Now, with the kindest motives in the world, I offer for the consideration

of consumptive patients the variegated course of treatment I have lately

gone through. Let them try it; if it don't cure, it can't more than kill

them.

A CURIOUS PLEASURE EXCURSION

--[Published at the time of the "Comet Scare" in the summer of 1874]

[We have received the following advertisement, but, inasmuch as it

concerns a matter of deep and general interest, we feel fully justified

in inserting it in our reading-columns. We are confident that our

conduct in this regard needs only explanation, not apology.--Ed., N. Y.

Herald.]

ADVERTISEMENT

This is to inform the public that in connection with Mr. Barnum I have

leased the comet for a term, of years; and I desire also to solicit the

public patronage in favor of a beneficial enterprise which we have in

view.

We propose to fit up comfortable, and even luxurious, accommodations in

the comet for as many persons as will honor us with their patronage, and

make an extended excursion among the heavenly bodies. We shall prepare

1,000,000 state-rooms in the tail of the comet (with hot and cold water,

gas, looking-glass, parachute, umbrella, etc., in each), and shall

construct more if we meet with a sufficiently generous encouragement.

We shall have billiard-rooms, card-rooms, music-rooms, bowling-alleys and

many spacious theaters and free libraries; and on the main deck we

propose to have a driving park, with upward of 100,000 miles of roadway

in it. We shall publish daily newspapers also.

DEPARTURE OF THE COMET

The comet will leave New York at 10 P.M. on the 20th inst., and

therefore it will be desirable that the passengers be on board by eight

at the latest, to avoid confusion in getting under way. It is not known

whether passports will be necessary or not, but it is deemed best that

passengers provide them, and so guard against all contingencies. No dogs

will be allowed on board. This rule has been made in deference to the

existing state of feeling regarding these animals, and will be strictly

adhered to. The safety of the passengers will in all ways be jealously

looked to. A substantial iron railing will be put up all around the

comet, and no one will be allowed to go to the edge and look over unless

accompanied by either my partner or myself.

THE POSTAL SERVICE

will be of the completest character. Of course the telegraph, and the

telegraph only, will be employed; consequently friends occupying

state-rooms 20,000,000 and even 30,000,000 miles apart will be able to

send a message and receive a reply inside of eleven days. Night messages

will be half-rate. The whole of this vast postal system will be under

the personal superintendence of Mr. Hale of Maine. Meals served at all

hours. Meals served in staterooms charged extra.

Hostility is not apprehended from any great planet, but we have thought

it best to err on the safe side, and therefore have provided a proper

number of mortars, siege-guns, and boarding-pikes. History shows that

small, isolated communities, such as the people of remote islands, are

prone to be hostile to strangers, and so the same may be the case with

THE INHABITANTS OF STARS

of the tenth or twentieth magnitude. We shall in no case wantonly offend

the people of any star, but shall treat all alike with urbanity and

kindliness, never conducting ourselves toward an asteroid after a fashion

which we could not venture to assume toward Jupiter or Saturn. I repeat

that we shall not wantonly offend any star; but at the same time we shall

promptly resent any injury that may be done us, or any insolence offered

us, by parties or governments residing in any star in the firmament.

Although averse to the shedding of blood, we shall still hold this course

rigidly and fearlessly, not only toward single stars, but toward

constellations. We shall hope to leave a good impression of America

behind us in every nation we visit, from Venus to Uranus. And, at all

events, if we cannot inspire love we shall at least compel respect for

our country wherever we go. We shall take with us, free of charge,

A GREAT FORCE OF MISSIONARIES,

and shed the true light upon all the celestial orbs which, physically

aglow, are yet morally in darkness. Sunday-schools will be established

wherever practicable. Compulsory education will also be introduced.

The comet will visit Mars first, and proceed to Mercury, Jupiter, Venus,

and Saturn. Parties connected with the government of the District of

Columbia and with the former city government of New York, who may desire

to inspect the rings, will be allowed time and every facility. Every

star of prominent magnitude will be visited, and time allowed for

excursions to points of interest inland.

THE DOG STAR

has been stricken from the program. Much time will be spent in the Great

Bear, and, indeed, in every constellation of importance. So, also, with

the Sun and Moon and the Milky Pay, otherwise the Gulf Stream of the

Skies. Clothing suitable for wear in the sun should be provided. Our

program has been so arranged that we shall seldom go more than

100,000,000 of miles at a time without stopping at some star. This will

necessarily make the stoppages frequent and preserve the interest of the

tourist. Baggage checked through to any point on the route. Parties

desiring to make only a part of the proposed tour, and thus save expense,

may stop over at any star they choose and wait for the return voyage.

After visiting all the most celebrated stars and constellations in our

system and personally, inspecting the remotest sparks that even the most

powerful telescope can now detect in the firmament, we shall proceed with

good heart upon

A STUPENDOUS VOYAGE

of discovery among the countless whirling worlds that make turmoil in the

mighty wastes of space that stretch their solemn solitudes, their

unimaginable vastness billions upon billions of miles away beyond the

farthest verge of telescopic vision, till by comparison the little

sparkling vault we used to gaze at on Earth shall seem like a remembered

phosphorescent flash of spangles which some tropical voyager's prow

stirred into life for a single instant, and which ten thousand miles of

phosphorescent seas and tedious lapse of time had since diminished to an

incident utterly trivial in his recollection. Children occupying seats

at the first table will be charged full fare.

FIRST-CLASS FARE

from the Earth to Uranus, including visits to the Sun and Moon and all

the principal planets on the route, will be charged at the low rate of

$2 for every 50,000,000 miles of actual travel. A great reduction will

be made where parties wish to make the round trip. This comet is new and

in thorough repair and is now on her first voyage. She is confessedly

the fastest on the line. She makes 20,000,000 miles a day, with her

present facilities; but, with a picked American crew and good weather,

we are confident we can get 40,000,000 out of her. Still, we shall never

push her to a dangerous speed, and we shall rigidly prohibit racing with

other comets. Passengers desiring to diverge at any point or return will

be transferred to other comets. We make close connections at all

principal points with all reliable lines. Safety can be depended upon.

It is not to be denied that the heavens are infested with

OLD RAMSHACKLE COMETS

that have not been inspected or overhauled in 10,000 years, and which

ought long ago to have been destroyed or turned into hail-barges, but

with these we have no connection whatever. Steerage passengers not

allowed abaft the main hatch.

Complimentary round-trip tickets have been tendered to General Butler,

Mr. Shepherd, Mr. Richardson, and other eminent gentlemen, whose public

services have entitled them to the rest and relaxation of a voyage of

this kind. Parties desiring to make the round trip will have extra

accommodation. The entire voyage will be completed, and the passengers

landed in New York again, on the 14th of December, 1991. This is, at

least, forty years quicker than any other comet can do it in. Nearly all

the back-pay members contemplate making the round trip with us in case

their constituents will allow them a holiday. Every harmless amusement

will be allowed on board, but no pools permitted on the run of the comet

--no gambling of any kind. All fixed stars will be respected by us, but

such stars as seem, to need fixing we shall fix. If it makes trouble, we

shall be sorry, but firm.

Mr. Coggia having leased his comet to us, she will no longer be called by

his name, but by my partner's. N. B.--Passengers by paying double fare

will be entitled to a share in all the new stars, suns, moons, comets,

meteors, and magazines of thunder and lightning we may discover.

Patent-medicine people will take notice that

WE CARRY BULLETIN-BOARDS

and a paint-brush along for use in the constellations, and are open to

terms. Cremationists are reminded that we are going straight to--some

hot places--and are open to terms. To other parties our enterprise is a

pleasure excursion, but individually we mean business. We shall fly our

comet for all it is worth.

FOR FURTHER PARTICULARS,

or for freight or passage, apply on board, or to my partner, but not to

me, since I do not take charge of the comet until she is under way.

It is necessary, at a time like this, that my mind should not be burdened

with small business details.

MARK TWAIN.

RUNNING FOR GOVERNOR--[Written about 1870.]

A few months ago I was nominated for Governor of the great state of New

York, to run against Mr. John T. Smith and Mr. Blank J. Blank on an

independent ticket. I somehow felt that I had one prominent advantage

over these gentlemen, and that was--good character. It was easy to see

by the newspapers that if ever they had known what it was to bear a good

name, that time had gone by. It was plain that in these latter years

they had become familiar with all manner of shameful crimes. But at the

very moment that I was exalting my advantage and joying in it in secret,

there was a muddy undercurrent of discomfort "riling" the deeps of my

happiness, and that was--the having to hear my name bandied about in

familiar connection with those of such people. I grew more and more

disturbed. Finally I wrote my grandmother about it. Her answer came

quick and sharp. She said:

You have never done one single thing in all your life to be ashamed

of--not one. Look at the newspapers--look at them and comprehend

what sort of characters Messrs. Smith and Blank are, and then see

if you are willing to lower yourself to their level and enter a

public canvass with them.

It was my very thought! I did not sleep a single moment that night.

But, after all, I could not recede.

I was fully committed, and must go on with the fight. As I was looking

listlessly over the papers at breakfast I came across this paragraph,

and I may truly say I never was so confounded before.

PERJURY.--Perhaps, now that Mr. Mark Twain is before the people as a

candidate for Governor, he will condescend to explain how he came to

be convicted of perjury by thirty-four witnesses in Wakawak, Cochin

China, in 1863, the intent of which perjury being to rob a poor

native widow and her helpless family of a meager plantain-patch,

their only stay and support in their bereavement and desolation.

Mr. Twain owes it to himself, as well as to the great people whose

suffrages he asks, to clear this matter up. Will he do it?

I thought I should burst with amazement! Such a cruel, heartless charge!

I never had seen Cochin China! I never had heard of Wakawak! I didn't

know a plantain-patch from a kangaroo! I did not know what to do. I was

crazed and helpless. I let the day slip away without doing anything at

all. The next morning the same paper had this--nothing more:

SIGNIFICANT.--Mr. Twain, it will be observed, is suggestively

silent about the Cochin China perjury.

[Mem.--During the rest of the campaign this paper never referred to me in

any other way than as "the infamous perjurer Twain."]

Next came the Gazette, with this:

WANTED TO KNOW.--Will the new candidate for Governor deign to

explain to certain of his fellow-citizens (who are suffering to vote

for him!) the little circumstance of his cabin-mates in Montana

losing small valuables from time to time, until at last, these

things having been invariably found on Mr. Twain's person or in his

"trunk" (newspaper he rolled his traps in), they felt compelled to

give him a friendly admonition for his own good, and so tarred and

feathered him, and rode him on a rail; and then advised him to leave

a permanent vacuum in the place he usually occupied in the camp.

Will he do this?

Could anything be more deliberately malicious than that? For I never was

in Montana in my life.

[After this, this journal customarily spoke of me as, "Twain, the Montana

Thief."]

I got to picking up papers apprehensively--much as one would lift a

desired blanket which he had some idea might have a rattlesnake under it.

One day this met my eye:

THE LIE NAILED.--By the sworn affidavits of Michael O'Flanagan,

Esq., of the Five Points, and Mr. Snub Rafferty and Mr. Catty

Mulligan, of Water Street, it is established that Mr. Mark Twain's

vile statement that the lamented grandfather of our noble

standard-bearer, Blank J. Blank, was hanged for highway robbery, is

a brutal and gratuitous LIE, without a shadow of foundation in fact.

It is disheartening to virtuous men to see such shameful means

resorted to to achieve political success as the attacking of the

dead in their graves, and defiling their honored names with slander.

When we think of the anguish this miserable falsehood must cause the

innocent relatives and friends of the deceased, we are almost driven

to incite an outraged and insulted public to summary and unlawful

vengeance upon the traducer. But no! let us leave him to the agony

of a lacerated conscience (though if passion should get the better

of the public, and in its blind fury they should do the traducer

bodily injury, it is but too obvious that no jury could convict and

no court punish the perpetrators of the deed).

The ingenious closing sentence had the effect of moving me out of bed

with despatch that night, and out at the back door also, while the

"outraged and insulted public" surged in the front way, breaking

furniture and windows in their righteous indignation as they came,

and taking off such property as they could carry when they went.

And yet I can lay my hand upon the Book and say that I never slandered

Mr. Blank's grandfather. More: I had never even heard of him or

mentioned him up to that day and date.

[I will state, in passing, that the journal above quoted from always

referred to me afterward as "Twain, the Body-Snatcher."]

The next newspaper article that attracted my attention was the following:

A SWEET CANDIDATE.--Mr. Mark Twain, who was to make such a

blighting speech at the mass-meeting of the Independents last night,

didn't come to time! A telegram from his physician stated that he

had been knocked down by a runaway team, and his leg broken in two

places--sufferer lying in great agony, and so forth, and so forth,

and a lot more bosh of the same sort. And the Independents tried

hard to swallow the wretched subterfuge, and pretend that they did

not know what was the real reason of the absence of the abandoned

creature whom they denominate their standard-bearer. A certain man

was seen to reel into Mr. Twain's hotel last night in a state of

beastly intoxication. It is the imperative duty of the Independents

to prove that this besotted brute was not Mark Twain himself. We

have them at last! This is a case that admits of no shirking. The

voice of the people demands in thunder tones, "WHO WAS THAT MAN?"

It was incredible, absolutely incredible, for a moment, that it was

really my name that was coupled with this disgraceful suspicion. Three

long years had passed over my head since I had tasted ale, beer, wine or

liquor or any kind.

[It shows what effect the times were having on me when I say that I saw

myself, confidently dubbed "Mr. Delirium Tremens Twain" in the next issue

of that journal without a pang--notwithstanding I knew that with

monotonous fidelity the paper would go on calling me so to the very end.]

By this time anonymous letters were getting to be an important part of my

mail matter. This form was common:

How about that old woman you kiked of your premises which

was beging. POL. PRY.

And this:

There is things which you Have done which is unbeknowens to anybody

but me. You better trot out a few dots, to yours truly, or you'll

hear through the papers from

HANDY ANDY.

This is about the idea. I could continue them till the reader was

surfeited, if desirable.

Shortly the principal Republican journal "convicted" me of wholesale

bribery, and the leading Democratic paper "nailed" an aggravated case of

blackmailing to me.

[In this way I acquired two additional names: "Twain the Filthy

Corruptionist" and "Twain the Loathsome Embracer."]

By this time there had grown to be such a clamor for an "answer" to all

the dreadful charges that were laid to me that the editors and leaders of

my party said it would be political ruin for me to remain silent any

longer. As if to make their appeal the more imperative, the following

appeared in one of the papers the very next day:

BEHOLD THE MAN!--The independent candidate still maintains silence.

Because he dare not speak. Every accusation against him has been

amply proved, and they have been indorsed and reindorsed by his own

eloquent silence, till at this day he stands forever convicted.

Look upon your candidate, Independents! Look upon the Infamous

Perjurer! the Montana Thief! the Body-Snatcher! Contemplate your

incarnate Delirium Tremens! your Filthy Corruptionist! your

Loathsome Embracer! Gaze upon him--ponder him well--and then say if

you can give your honest votes to a creature who has earned this

dismal array of titles by his hideous crimes, and dares not open his

mouth in denial of any one of them!

There was no possible way of getting out of it, and so, in deep

humiliation, I set about preparing to "answer" a mass of baseless charges

and mean and wicked falsehoods. But I never finished the task, for the

very next morning a paper came out with a new horror, a fresh malignity,

and seriously charged me with burning a lunatic asylum with all its

inmates, because it obstructed the view from my house. This threw me

into a sort of panic. Then came the charge of poisoning my uncle to get

his property, with an imperative demand that the grave should be opened.

This drove me to the verge of distraction. On top of this I was accused

of employing toothless and incompetent old relatives to prepare the food

for the foundling' hospital when I warden. I was wavering--wavering.

And at last, as a due and fitting climax to the shameless persecution

that party rancor had inflicted upon me, nine little toddling children,

of all shades of color and degrees of raggedness, were taught to rush

onto the platform at a public meeting, and clasp me around the legs and

call me PA!

I gave it up. I hauled down my colors and surrendered. I was not equal

to the requirements of a Gubernatorial campaign in the state of New York,

and so I sent in my withdrawal from the candidacy, and in bitterness of

spirit signed it, "Truly yours, once a decent man, but now

"MARK TWAIN, LP., M.T., B.S., D.T., F.C., and L.E."

A MYSTERIOUS VISIT

The first notice that was taken of me when I "settled down" recently was

by a gentleman who said he was an assessor, and connected with the U. S.

Internal Revenue Department. I said I had never heard of his branch of

business before, but I was very glad to see him all the same. Would he

sit down? He sat down. I did not know anything particular to say, and

yet I felt that people who have arrived at the dignity of keeping house

must be conversational, must be easy and sociable in company. So, in

default of anything else to say, I asked him if he was opening his shop

in our neighborhood.

He said he was. [I did not wish to appear ignorant, but I had hoped he

would mention what he had for sale.]

I ventured to ask him "How was trade?" And he said "So-so."

I then said we would drop in, and if we liked his house as well as any

other, we would give him our custom.

He said he thought we would like his establishment well enough to confine

ourselves to it--said he never saw anybody who would go off and hunt up

another man in his line after trading with him once.

That sounded pretty complacent, but barring that natural expression of

villainy which we all have, the man looked honest enough.

I do not know how it came about exactly, but gradually we appeared to

melt down and run together, conversationally speaking, and then

everything went along as comfortably as clockwork.

We talked, and talked, and talked--at least I did; and we laughed, and

laughed, and laughed--at least he did. But all the time I had my

presence of mind about me--I had my native shrewdness turned on "full

head," as the engineers say. I was determined to find out all about his

business in spite of his obscure answers--and I was determined I would

have it out of him without his suspecting what I was at. I meant to trap

him with a deep, deep ruse. I would tell him all about my own business,

and he would naturally so warm to me during this seductive burst of

confidence that he would forget himself, and tell me all about his

affairs before he suspected what I was about. I thought to myself, My

son, you little know what an old fox you are dealing with. I said:

"Now you never would guess what I made lecturing this winter and last

spring?"

"No--don't believe I could, to save me. Let me see--let me see. About

two thousand dollars, maybe? But no; no, sir, I know you couldn't have

made that much. Say seventeen hundred, maybe?"

"Ha! ha! I knew you couldn't. My lecturing receipts for last spring and

this winter were fourteen thousand seven hundred and fifty dollars. What

do you think of that?"

"Why, it is amazing-perfectly amazing. I will make a note of it. And

you say even this wasn't all?"

"All! Why bless you, there was my income from the Daily Warwhoop for

four months--about--about--well, what should you say to about eight

thousand dollars, for instance?"

"Say! Why, I should say I should like to see myself rolling in just such

another ocean of affluence. Eight thousand! I'll make a note of it.

Why man!--and on top of all this am I to understand that you had still

more income?"

"Ha! ha! ha! Why, you're only in the suburbs of it, so to speak.

There's my book, The Innocents Abroad price $3.50 to $5, according to the

binding. Listen to me. Look me in the eye. During the last four months

and a half, saying nothing of sales before that, but just simply during

the four months and a half, we've sold ninety-five thousand copies of

that book. Ninety-five thousand! Think of it. Average four dollars a

copy, say. It's nearly four hundred thousand dollars, my son. I get

half."

"The suffering Moses! I'll set that down. Fourteen-seven-fifty

--eight--two hundred. Total, say--well, upon my word, the grand total is

about two hundred and thirteen or fourteen thousand dollars! Is that

possible?"

"Possible! If there's any mistake it's the other way. Two hundred and

fourteen thousand, cash, is my income for this year if I know how to

cipher."

Then the gentleman got up to go. It came over me most uncomfortably that

maybe I had made my revelations for nothing, besides being flattered into

stretching them considerably by the stranger's astonished exclamations.

But no; at the last moment the gentleman handed me a large envelope, and

said it contained his advertisement; and that I would find out all about

his business in it; and that he would be happy to have my custom-would,

in fact, be proud to have the custom of a man of such prodigious income;

and that he used to think there were several wealthy men in the city, but

when they came to trade with him he discovered that they barely had

enough to live on; and that, in truth, it had been such a weary, weary

age since he had seen a rich man face to face, and talked to him, and

touched him with his hands, that he could hardly refrain from embracing

me--in fact, would esteem it a great favor if I would let him embrace me.

This so pleased me that I did not try to resist, but allowed this

simple-hearted stranger to throw his arms about me and weep a few

tranquilizing tears down the back of my neck. Then he went his way.

As soon as he was gone I opened his advertisement. I studied it

attentively for four minutes. I then called up the cook, and said:

"Hold me while I faint! Let Marie turn the griddle-cakes."

By and by, when I came to, I sent down to the rum-mill on the corner and

hired an artist by the week to sit up nights and curse that stranger, and

give me a lift occasionally in the daytime when I came to a hard place.

Ah, what a miscreant he was! His "advertisement" was nothing in the

world but a wicked tax-return--a string of impertinent questions about

my private affairs, occupying the best part of four fools-cap pages of

fine print-questions, I may remark, gotten up with such marvelous

ingenuity that the oldest man in the world couldn't understand what the

most of them were driving at--questions, too, that were calculated to

make a man report about four times his actual income to keep from

swearing to a falsehood. I looked for a loophole, but there did not

appear to be any. Inquiry No. 1 covered my case as generously and as

amply as an umbrella could cover an ant-hill:

What were your profits, during the past year, from any trade,

business, or vocation, wherever carried on?

And that inquiry was backed up by thirteen others of an equally searching

nature, the most modest of which required information as to whether I had

committed any burglary or highway robbery, or, by any arson or other

secret source of emolument had acquired property which was not enumerated

in my statement of income as set opposite to inquiry No. 1.

It was plain that that stranger had enabled me to make a goose of myself.

It was very, very plain; and so I went out and hired another artist.

By working on my vanity, the stranger had seduced me into declaring an

income of two hundred and fourteen thousand dollars. By law, one

thousand dollars of this was exempt from income tax--the only relief I

could see, and it was only a drop in the ocean. At the legal five per

cent., I must pay to the government the sum of ten thousand six hundred

and fifty dollars, income tax!

[I may remark, in this place, that I did not do it.]

I am acquainted with a very opulent man, whose house is a palace, whose

table is regal, whose outlays are enormous, yet a man who has no income,

as I have often noticed by the revenue returns; and to him I went for

advice in my distress. He took my dreadful exhibition of receipts, he

put on his glasses, he took his pen, and presto!--I was a pauper! It was

the neatest thing that ever was. He did it simply by deftly manipulating

the bill of "DEDUCTIONS." He set down my "State, national, and municipal

taxes" at so much; my "losses by shipwreck; fire, etc.," at so much; my

"losses on sales of real estate"--on "live stock sold"--on "payments for

rent of homestead"--on "repairs, improvements, interest"--on "previously

taxed salary as an officer of the United States army, navy, revenue

service," and other things. He got astonishing "deductions" out of each

and every one of these matters--each and every one of them. And when he

was done he handed me the paper, and I saw at a glance that during the

year my income, in the way of profits, had been one thousand two hundred

and fifty dollars and forty cents.

"Now," said he, "the thousand dollars is exempt by law. What you want to

do is to go and swear this document in and pay tax on the two hundred and

fifty dollars."

[While he was making this speech his little boy Willie lifted a

two-dollar greenback out of his vest pocket and vanished with it, and I

would wager; anything that if my stranger were to call on that little boy

to-morrow he would make a false return of his income.]

"Do you," said I, "do you always work up the 'deductions' after this

fashion in your own case, sir?"

"Well, I should say so! If it weren't for those eleven saving clauses

under the head of 'Deductions' I should be beggared every year to support

this hateful and wicked, this extortionate and tyrannical government."

This gentleman stands away up among the very best of the solid men of the

city--the men of moral weight, of commercial integrity, of unimpeachable,

social spotlessness--and so I bowed to his example. I went down to the

revenue office, and under the accusing eyes of my old visitor I stood up

and swore to lie after lie, fraud after fraud, villainy after villainy,

till my soul was coated inches and inches thick with perjury, and my

self-respect gone for ever and ever.

But what of it? It is nothing more than thousands of the richest and

proudest, and most respected, honored, and courted men in America do

every year. And so I don't care. I am not ashamed. I shall simply,

for the present, talk little and eschew fire-proof gloves, lest I fall

into certain dreadful habits irrevocably.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

CURIOUS REPUBLIC OF GONDOUR

by Mark Twain

THE CURIOUS REPUBLIC OF GONDOUR AND OTHER WHIMSICAL SKETCHES

NOTE:

Most of the sketches in this volume were taken from a series the author

wrote for The Galaxy from May, 1870, to April, 1871. The rest appeared

in The Buffalo Express.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

THE CURIOUS REPUBLIC OF GONDOUR

A MEMORY

INTRODUCTORY TO "MEMORANDA".

ABOUT SMELLS

A COUPLE OF SAD EXPERIENCES

DAN MURPHY

THE "TOURNAMENT" IN A.D. 1870

CURIOUS RELIC FOR SALE

A REMINISCENCE OF THE BACK SETTLEMENTS

A ROYAL COMPLIMENT

THE APPROACHING EPIDEMIC

THE TONE-IMPARTING COMMITTEE

OUR PRECIOUS LUNATIC

THE EUROPEAN WAR

THE WILD MAN INTERVIEWED

LAST WORDS OF GREAT MEN

THE CURIOUS REPUBLIC OF GONDOUR

As soon as I had learned to speak the language a little, I became greatly

interested in the people and the system of government.

I found that the nation had at first tried universal suffrage pure and

simple, but had thrown that form aside because the result was not

satisfactory. It had seemed to deliver all power into the hands of the

ignorant and non-tax-paying classes; and of a necessity the responsible

offices were filled from these classes also.

A remedy was sought. The people believed they had found it; not in the

destruction of universal suffrage, but in the enlargement of it. It was

an odd idea, and ingenious. You must understand, the constitution gave

every man a vote; therefore that vote was a vested right, and could not

be taken away. But the constitution did not say that certain individuals

might not be given two votes, or ten! So an amendatory clause was

inserted in a quiet way; a clause which authorised the enlargement of the

suffrage in certain cases to be specified by statute. To offer to

"limit" the suffrage might have made instant trouble; the offer to

"enlarge" it had a pleasant aspect. But of course the newspapers soon

began to suspect; and then out they came! It was found, however, that

for once--and for the first time in the history of the republic

--property, character, and intellect were able to wield a political

influence; for once, money, virtue, and intelligence took a vital and a

united interest in a political question; for once these powers went to

the "primaries" in strong force; for once the best men in the nation were

put forward as candidates for that parliament whose business it should be

to enlarge the suffrage. The weightiest half of the press quickly joined

forces with the new movement, and left the other half to rail about the

proposed "destruction of the liberties" of the bottom layer of society,

the hitherto governing class of the community.

The victory was complete. The new law was framed and passed. Under it

every citizen, howsoever poor or ignorant, possessed one vote,

so universal suffrage still reigned; but if a man possessed a good

common-school education and no money, he had two votes; a high-school

education gave him four; if he had property like wise, to the value of

three thousand 'sacos,' he wielded one more vote; for every fifty

thousand 'sacos' a man added to his property, he was entitled to another

vote; a university education entitled a man to nine votes, even though he

owned no property. Therefore, learning being more prevalent and more

easily acquired than riches, educated men became a wholesome check upon

wealthy men, since they could outvote them. Learning goes usually with

uprightness, broad views, and humanity; so the learned voters, possessing

the balance of power, became the vigilant and efficient protectors of the

great lower rank of society.

And now a curious thing developed itself--a sort of emulation, whose

object was voting power! Whereas formerly a man was honored only

according to the amount of money he possessed, his grandeur was measured

now by the number of votes he wielded. A man with only one vote was

conspicuously respectful to his neighbor who possessed three. And if he

was a man above the common-place, he was as conspicuously energetic in

his determination to acquire three for himself. This spirit of emulation

invaded all ranks. Votes based upon capital were commonly called

"mortal" votes, because they could be lost; those based upon learning

were called "immortal," because they were permanent, and because of their

customarily imperishable character they were naturally more valued than

the other sort. I say "customarily" for the reason that these votes were

not absolutely imperishable, since insanity could suspend them.

Under this system, gambling and speculation almost ceased in the

republic. A man honoured as the possessor of great voting power could

not afford to risk the loss of it upon a doubtful chance.

It was curious to observe the manners and customs which the enlargement

plan produced. Walking the street with a friend one day he delivered a

careless bow to a passer-by, and then remarked that that person possessed

only one vote and would probably never earn another; he was more

respectful to the next acquaintance he met; he explained that this salute

was a four-vote bow. I tried to "average" the importance of the people

he accosted after that, by the-nature of his bows, but my success was

only partial, because of the somewhat greater homage paid to the

immortals than to the mortals. My friend explained. He said there was

no law to regulate this thing, except that most powerful of all laws,

custom. Custom had created these varying bows, and in time they had

become easy and natural. At this moment he delivered himself of a very

profound salute, and then said, "Now there's a man who began life as a

shoemaker's apprentice, and without education; now he swings twenty-two

mortal votes and two immortal ones; he expects to pass a high-school

examination this year and climb a couple of votes higher among the

immortals; mighty valuable citizen."

By and by my friend met a venerable personage, and not only made him a

most elaborate bow, but also took off his hat. I took off mine, too,

with a mysterious awe. I was beginning to be infected.

"What grandee is that?"

"That is our most illustrious astronomer. He hasn't any money, but is

fearfully learned. Nine immortals is his political weight! He would

swing a hundred and fifty votes if our system were perfect."

"Is there any altitude of mere moneyed grandeur that you take off your

hat to?"

"No. Nine immortal votes is the only power we uncover for that is, in

civil life. Very great officials receive that mark of homage, of

course."

It was common to hear people admiringly mention men who had begun life on

the lower levels and in time achieved great voting-power. It was also

common to hear youths planning a future of ever so many votes for

themselves. I heard shrewd mammas speak of certain young men as good

"catches" because they possessed such-and-such a number of votes. I knew

of more than one case where an heiress was married to a youngster who had

but one vote; the argument being that he was gifted with such excellent

parts that in time he would acquire a good voting strength, and perhaps

in the long run be able to outvote his wife, if he had luck.

Competitive examinations were the rule and in all official grades. I

remarked that the questions asked the candidates were wild, intricate,

and often required a sort of knowledge not needed in the office sought.

"Can a fool or an ignoramus answer them?" asked the person I was talking

with.

"Certainly not."

"Well, you will not find any fools or ignoramuses among our officials."

I felt rather cornered, but made shift to say:

"But these questions cover a good deal more ground than is necessary."

"No matter; if candidates can answer these it is tolerably fair evidence

that they can answer nearly any other question you choose to ask them."

There were some things in Gondour which one could not shut his eyes to.

One was, that ignorance and incompetence had no place in the government.

Brains and property managed the state. A candidate for office must have

marked ability, education, and high character, or he stood no sort of

chance of election. If a hod-carrier possessed these, he could succeed;

but the mere fact that he was a hod-carrier could not elect him, as in

previous times.

It was now a very great honour to be in the parliament or in office;

under the old system such distinction had only brought suspicion upon a

man and made him a helpless mark for newspaper contempt and scurrility.

Officials did not need to steal now, their salaries being vast in

comparison with the pittances paid in the days when parliaments were

created by hod-carriers, who viewed official salaries from a hod-carrying

point of view and compelled that view to be respected by their obsequious

servants. Justice was wisely and rigidly administered; for a judge,

after once reaching his place through the specified line of promotions,

was a permanency during good behaviour. He was not obliged to modify his

judgments according to the effect they might have upon the temper of a

reigning political party.

The country was mainly governed by a ministry which went out with the

administration that created it. This was also the case with the chiefs

of the great departments. Minor officials ascended to their several

positions through well-earned promotions, and not by a jump from

gin-mills or the needy families and friends of members of parliament.

Good behaviour measured their terms of office.

The head of the governments the Grand Caliph, was elected for a term of

twenty years. I questioned the wisdom of this. I was answered that he

could do no harm, since the ministry and the parliament governed the

land, and he was liable to impeachment for misconduct. This great office

had twice been ably filled by women, women as aptly fitted for it as some

of the sceptred queens of history. Members of the cabinet, under many

administrations, had been women.

I found that the pardoning power was lodged in a court of pardons,

consisting of several great judges. Under the old regime, this important

power was vested in a single official, and he usually took care to have a

general jail delivery in time for the next election.

I inquired about public schools. There were plenty of them, and of free

colleges too. I inquired about compulsory education. This was received

with a smile, and the remark:

"When a man's child is able to make himself powerful and honoured

according to the amount of education he acquires, don't you suppose that

that parent will apply the compulsion himself? Our free schools and free

colleges require no law to fill them."

There was a loving pride of country about this person's way of speaking

which annoyed me. I had long been unused to the sound of it in my own.

The Gondour national airs were forever dinning in my ears; therefore I

was glad to leave that country and come back to my dear native land,

where one never hears that sort of music.

A MEMORY,

When I say that I never knew my austere father to be enamoured of but one

poem in all the long half century that he lived, persons who knew him

will easily believe me; when I say that I have never composed but one

poem in all the long third of a century that I have lived, persons who

know me will be sincerely grateful; and finally, when I say that the poem

which I composed was not the one which my father was enamoured of,

persons who may have known us both will not need to have this truth shot

into them with a mountain howitzer before they can receive it. My father

and I were always on the most distant terms when I was a boy--a sort of

armed neutrality so to speak. At irregular intervals this neutrality was

broken, and suffering ensued; but I will be candid enough to say that the

breaking and the suffering were always divided up with strict

impartiality between us--which is to say, my father did the breaking, and

I did the suffering. As a general thing I was a backward, cautious,

unadventurous boy; but I once jumped off a two-story table; another time

I gave an elephant a "plug" of tobacco and retired without waiting for an

answer; and still another time I pretended to be talking in my sleep, and

got off a portion of a very wretched original conundrum in the hearing of

my father. Let us not pry into the result; it was of no consequence to

any one but me.

But the poem I have referred to as attracting my father's attention and

achieving his favour was "Hiawatha." Some man who courted a sudden and

awful death presented him an early copy, and I never lost faith in my own

senses until I saw him sit down and go to reading it in cold blood--saw

him open the book, and heard him read these following lines, with the

same inflectionless judicial frigidity with which he always read his

charge to the jury, or administered an oath to a witness:

"Take your bow,

O Hiawatha,

Take your arrows, jasper-headed,

Take your war-club, Puggawaugun,

And your mittens, Minjekahwan,

And your birch canoe for sailing,

And the oil of Mishe-Nama."

Presently my father took out of his breast pocket an imposing "Warranty

Deed," and fixed his eyes upon it and dropped into meditation. I knew

what it was. A Texan lady and gentleman had given my half-brother, Orrin

Johnson, a handsome property in a town in the North, in gratitude to him

for having saved their lives by an act of brilliant heroism.

By and by my father looked towards me and sighed. Then he said:

"If I had such a son as this poet, here were a subject worthier than the

traditions of these Indians."

"If you please, sir, where?"

"In this deed."

"Yes--in this very deed," said my father, throwing it on the table.

"There is more poetry, more romance, more sublimity, more splendid

imagery hidden away in that homely document than could be found in all

the traditions of all the savages that live."

"Indeed, sir? Could I--could I get it out, sir? Could I compose the

poem, sir, do you think?"

"You?"

I wilted.

Presently my father's face softened somewhat, and he said:

"Go and try. But mind, curb folly. No poetry at the expense of truth.

Keep strictly to the facts."

I said I would, and bowed myself out, and went upstairs.

"Hiawatha" kept droning in my head--and so did my father's remarks about

the sublimity and romance hidden in my subject, and also his injunction

to beware of wasteful and exuberant fancy. I noticed, just here, that I

had heedlessly brought the deed away with me; now at this moment came to

me one of those rare moods of daring recklessness, such as I referred to

a while ago. Without another thought, and in plain defiance of the fact

that I knew my father meant me to write the romantic story of my

half-brother's adventure and subsequent good fortune, I ventured to heed

merely the letter of his remarks and ignore their spirit. I took the

stupid "Warranty Deed" itself and chopped it up into Hiawathian blank

verse without altering or leaving out three words, and without

transposing six. It required loads of courage to go downstairs and face

my father with my performance. I started three or four times before I

finally got my pluck to where it would stick. But at last I said I would

go down and read it to him if he threw me over the church for it.

I stood up to begin, and he told me to come closer. I edged up a little,

but still left as much neutral ground between us as I thought he would

stand. Then I began. It would be useless for me to try to tell what

conflicting emotions expressed themselves upon his face, nor how they

grew more and more intense, as I proceeded; nor how a fell darkness

descended upon his countenance, and he began to gag and swallow, and his

hands began to work and twitch, as I reeled off line after line, with the

strength ebbing out of me, and my legs trembling under me:

THE STORY OF A GALLANT DEED

THIS INDENTURE, made the tenth

Day of November, in the year

Of our Lord one thousand eight

Hundred six-and-fifty,

Between Joanna S. E. Gray

And Philip Gray, her husband,

Of Salem City in the State

Of Texas, of the first part,

And O. B. Johnson, of the town

Of Austin, ditto, WITNESSETH:

That said party of first part,

For and in consideration

Of the sum of Twenty Thousand

Dollars, lawful money of

The U. S. of Americay,

To them in hand now paid by said

Party of the second part,

The due receipt whereof is here--

By confessed and acknowledg-ed

Having Granted, Bargained, Sold, Remised,

Released and Aliened and Conveyed,

Confirmed, and by these presents do

Grant and Bargain, Sell, Remise,

Alien, Release, Convey, and Con--

Firm unto the said aforesaid

Party of the second part,

And to his heirs and assigns

Forever and ever ALL

That certain lot or parcel of

LAND situate in city of

Dunkirk, County of Chautauqua,

And likewise furthermore in York State

Bounded and described, to-wit,

As follows, herein, namely

BEGINNING at the distance of

A hundred two-and-forty feet,

North-half-east, north-east-by north,

East-north-east and northerly

Of the northerly line of Mulligan street

On the westerly line of Brannigan street,

And running thence due northerly

On Brannigan street 200 feet,

Thence at right angles westerly,

North-west-by-west-and-west-half-west,

West-and-by-north, north-west-by-west,

About--

I kind of dodged, and the boot-jack broke the looking-glass. I could

have waited to see what became of the other missiles if I had wanted to,

but I took no interest in such things.

INTRODUCTORY TO "MEMORANDA"

In taking upon myself the burden of editing a department in THE GALAXY

magazine, I have been actuated by a conviction that I was needed, almost

imperatively, in this particular field of literature. I have long felt

that while the magazine literature of the day had much to recommend it,

it yet lacked stability, solidity, weight. It seemed plain to me that

too much space was given to poetry and romance, and not enough to

statistics and agriculture. This defect it shall be my earnest endeavour

to remedy. If I succeed, the simple consciousness that I have done a

good deed will be a sufficient reward.**--[**Together with salary.]

In this department of mine the public may always rely upon finding

exhaustive statistical tables concerning the finances of the country,

the ratio of births and deaths; the percentage of increase of population,

etc., etc.--in a word, everything in the realm of statistics that can

make existence bright and beautiful.

Also, in my department will always be found elaborate condensations of

the Patent Office Reports, wherein a faithful endeavour will at all times

be made to strip the nutritious facts bare of that effulgence of

imagination and sublimity of diction which too often mar the excellence

of those great works.**--[** N. B.--No other magazine in the country

makes a specialty of the Patent Office Reports.]

In my department will always be found ample excerpts from those able

dissertations upon Political Economy which I have for a long time been

contributing to a great metropolitan journal, and which, for reasons

utterly incomprehensible to me, another party has chosen to usurp the

credit of composing.

And, finally, I call attention with pride to the fact that in my

department of the magazine the farmer will always find full market

reports, and also complete instructions about farming, even from the

grafting of the seed to the harrowing of the matured crop. I shall throw

a pathos into the subject of Agriculture that will surprise and delight

the world.

Such is my programme; and I am persuaded that by adhering to it with

fidelity I shall succeed in materially changing the character of this

magazine. Therefore I am emboldened to ask the assistance and

encouragement of all whose sympathies are with Progress and Reform.

In the other departments of the magazine will be found poetry, tales, and

other frothy trifles, and to these the reader can turn for relaxation

from time to time, and thus guard against overstraining the powers of his

mind.

M. T.

P. S.--1. I have not sold out of the "Buffalo Express," and shall not;

neither shall I stop writing for it. This remark seems necessary in a

business point of view.

2. These MEMORANDA are not a "humorous" department. I would not conduct

an exclusively and professedly humorous department for any one. I would

always prefer to have the privilege of printing a serious and sensible

remark, in case one occurred to me, without the reader's feeling obliged

to consider himself outraged. We cannot keep the same mood day after

day. I am liable, some day, to want to print my opinion on

jurisprudence, or Homeric poetry, or international law, and I shall do

it. It will be of small consequence to me whether the reader survive or

not. I shall never go straining after jokes when in a cheerless mood, so

long as the unhackneyed subject of international law is open to me.

I will leave all that straining to people who edit professedly and

inexorably "humorous" departments and publications.

3. I have chosen the general title of MEMORANDA for this department

because it is plain and simple, and makes no fraudulent promises. I can

print under it statistics, hotel arrivals, or anything that comes handy,

without violating faith with the reader.

4. Puns cannot be allowed a place in this department. Inoffensive

ignorance, benignant stupidity, and unostentatious imbecility will always

be welcomed and cheerfully accorded a corner, and even the feeblest

humour will be admitted, when we can do no better; but no circumstances,

however dismal, will ever be considered a sufficient excuse for the

admission of that last--and saddest evidence of intellectual poverty, the

Pun.