mark twain, a biography, 1907-1910-第30部分

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expressed　a　wish　that　she　could　get　married　like　that。　　Clemens　said：

〃Frankness　is　a　jewel；　only　the　young　can　afford　it。〃

Then　he　happened　to　remember　a　ridiculous　boy…dolla　white…haired
creature　with　red　coat　and　green　trousers；　a　souvenir　imitation　of
himself　from　one　of　the　Rogerses'　Christmas　trees。　　He　knew　where　it　was；
and　he　got　it　out。　　Then　he　said：

〃Now；　Joy；　we　will　have　another　wedding。　　This　is　Mr。　Colonel　Williams；
and　you　are　to　become　his　wedded　wife。

So　Joy　stood　up　very　gravely　and　Clemens　performed　the　ceremony；　and　I
gave　the　bride　away；　and　Joy　to　him　became　Mrs。　Colonel　Williams
thereafter；　and　entered　happily　into　her　new　estate。




CCLXXXVI

AUTUMN　DAYS

A　harvest　of　letters　followed　the　wedding：　a　general　congratulatory
expression；　mingled　with　admiration；　affection；　and　good…will。　　In　his
interview　Clemens　had　referred　to　the　pain　in　his　breast；　and　many　begged
him　to　deny　that　there　was　anything　serious　the　matter　with　him；　urging
him　to　try　this　relief　or　that；　pathetically　eager　for　his　continued　life
and　health。　　They　cited　the　comfort　he　had　brought　to　world…weary　
humanity　and　his　unfailing　stand　for　human　justice　as　reasons　why　he
should　live。　　Such　letters　could　not　fail　to　cheer　him。

A　letter　of　this　period；　from　John　Bigelow；　gave　him　a　pleasure　of　its
own。　　Clemens　had　written　Bigelow；　apropos　of　some　adverse　expression　on
the　tariff：

　　　　　Thank　you　for　any　hard　word　you　can　say　about　the　tariff。　　I　guess
　　　　　the　government　that　robs　its　own　people　earns　the　future　it　is
　　　　　preparing　for　itself。

Bigelow　was　just　then　declining　an　invitation　to　the　annual　dinner　of　the
Chamber　of　Commerce。　　In　sending　his　regrets　he　said：

　　　　　The　sentiment　I　would　propose　if　I　dared　to　be　present　would　be　the
　　　　　words　of　Mark　Twain；　the　statesman：

　　　　　〃The　government　that　robs　its　own　people　earns　the　future　it　is
　　　　　preparing　for　itself。〃

Now　to　Clemens　himself　he　wrote：

　　　　　Rochefoucault　never　said　a　cleverer　thing；　nor　Dr。　Franklin　a　wiser
　　　　　one　。　　。　　。　　。　　Be　careful；　or　the　Demos　will　be　running　you　for
　　　　　President　when　you　are　not　on　your　guard。

　　　　　Yours　more　than　ever；
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　JOHN　BIGELOW。


Among　the　tributes　that　came；　was　a　sermon　by　the　Rev。　Fred　Window　Adams；
of　Schenectady；　New　York；　with　Mark　Twain　as　its　subject。　　Mr。　Adams
chose　for　his　text；　〃Take　Mark　and　bring　him　with　thee；　for　he　is
profitable　for　the　ministry；〃　and　he　placed　the　two　Marks；　St。　Mark　and
Mark　Twain；　side　by　side　as　ministers　to　humanity；　and　characterized　him
as　〃a　fearless　knight　of　righteousness。〃　　A　few　weeks　later　Mr。　Adams
himself　came　to　Stormfield；　and；　like　all　open…minded　ministers　of　the
Gospel；　he　found　that　he　could　get　on　very　well　indeed　with　Mark　Twain。

In　spite　of　the　good…will　and　the　good　wishes　Clemens's　malady　did　not
improve。　　As　the　days　grew　chillier　he　found　that　he　must　remain　closer
indoors。　　The　cold　air　seemed　to　bring　on　the　pains；　and　they　were
gradually　becoming　more　severe；　then；　too；　he　did　not　follow　the　doctor's
orders　in　the　matter　of　smoking；　nor　altogether　as　to　exercise。

To　Miss　Wallace　he　wrote：

I　can't　walk；　I　can't　drive；　I'm　not　down…stairs　much；　and　I　don't　see
company；　but　I　drink　barrels　of　water　to　keep　the　pain　quiet；　I　read；　and
read；　and　read；　and　smoke；　and　smoke；　and　smoke　all　the　time　（as
formerly）；　and　it's　a　contented　and　comfortable　life。

But　this　was　not　altogether　accurate　as　to　details。　　He　did　come　down…
stairs　many　times　daily；　and　he　persisted　in　billiards　regardless　of　the
paroxysms。　　We　found；　too；　that　the　seizures　were　induced　by　mental
agitation。　　One　night　he　read　aloud　to　Jean　and　myself　the　first　chapter
of　an　article；　〃The　Turning…Point　in　My　Life；〃　which　he　was　preparing　for
Harper's　Bazar。　　He　had　begun　it　with　one　of　his　impossible　burlesque
fancies；　and　he　felt　our　attitude　of　disappointment　even　before　any　word
had　been　said。　　Suddenly　he　rose；　and　laying　his　hand　on　his　breast　said；
〃I　must　lie　down；〃　and　started　toward　the　stair。　　I　supported　him　to　his
room　and　hurriedly　poured　out　the　hot　water。　　He　drank　it　and　dropped
back　on　the　bed。

〃Don't　speak　to　me；〃　he　said；　〃don't　make　me　talk。〃

Jean　came　in；　and　we　sat　there　several　moments　in　silence。　　I　think　we
both　wondered　if　this　might　not　be　the　end；　but　presently　he　spoke　of　his
own　accord；　declaring　he　was　better；　and　ready　for　billiards。

We　played　for　at　least　an　hour　afterward；　and　he　seemed　no　worse　for　the
attack。　　It　is　a　curious　maladythat　angina；　even　the　doctors　are
acquainted　with　its　manifestations；　rather　than　its　cause。　　Clemens's
general　habits　of　body　and　mind　were　probably　not　such　as　to　delay　its
progress；　furthermore；　there　had　befallen　him　that　year　one　of　those
misfortunes　which　his　confiding　nature　peculiarly　inviteda　betrayal　of
trust　by　those　in　whom　it　had　been　boundlessly　placedand　it　seems
likely　that　the　resulting　humiliation　aggravated　his　complaint。　　The
writing　of　a　detailed　history　of　this　episode　afforded　him　occupation　and
a　certain　amusement；　but　probably　did　not　contribute　to　his　health。　　One
day　he　sent　for　his　attorney；　Mr。　Charles　T。　Lark；　and　made　some　final
revisions　in　his　will。　＇Mark　Twain's　estate；　later　appraised　at
something　more　than　600；000　was　left　in　the　hands　of　trustees　for　his
daughters。　　The　trustees　were　Edward　E。　Loomis；　Jervis　Langdon；　and
Zoheth　S。　Freeman。　　The　direction　of　his　literary　affairs　was　left　to　his
daughter　Clara　and　the　writer　of　this　history。

To　see　him　you　would　never　have　suspected　that　he　was　ill。　　He　was　in
good　flesh；　and　his　movement　was　as　airy　and　his　eye　as　bright　and　his
face　as　full　of　bloom　as　at　any　time　during　the　period　I　had　known　him；
also；　he　was　as　light…hearted　and　full　of　ideas　and　plans；　and　he　was
even　gentlerhaving　grown　mellow　with　age　and　retirement；　like　good
wine。

And　of　course　he　would　find　amusement　in　his　condition。　　He　said：

〃I　have　always　pretended　to　be　sick　to　escape　visitors；　now；　for　the
first　time；　I　have　got　a　genuine　excuse。　　It　makes　me　feel　so　honest。〃

And　once；　when　Jean　reported　a　caller　in　the　livingroom；　he　said：

〃Jean；　I　can't　see　her。　　Tell　her　I　am　likely　to　drop　dead　any　minute　and
it　would　be　most　embarrassing。〃

But　he　did　see　her；　for　it　was　a　poetAngela　Morganand　he　read　her
poem；　〃God's　Man；〃　aloud　with　great　feeling；　and　later　he　sold　it　for　her
to　Collier's　Weekly。

He　still　had　violent　rages　now　and　then；　remembering　some　of　the　most
notable　of　his　mistakes；　and　once；　after　denouncing　himself；　rather
inclusively；　as　an　idiot；　he　said：

〃I　wish　to　God　the　lightning　would　strike　me；　but　I've　wished　that　fifty
thousand　times　and　never　got　anything　out　of　it　yet。　　I　have　missed
several　good　chances。　　Mrs。　Clemens　was　afraid　of　lightning；　and　would
never　let　me　bare　my　head　to　the　storm。〃

The　element　of　humor　was　never　lacking；　and　the　rages　became　less　violent
and　less　frequent。

I　was　at　Stormfield　steadily　now；　and　there　was　a　regular　routine　of
afternoon　sessions　of　billiards　or　reading；　in　which　we　were　generally
alone；　for　Jean；　occupied　with　her　farming　and　her　secretary　labors；
seldom　appeared　except　at　meal…times。　　Occasionally　she　joined　in　the
billiard　games；　but　it　was　difficult　learning　and　her　interest　was　not
great。　　She　would　have　made　a　fine　player；　for　she　had　a　natural　talent
for　games；　as　she　had　for　languages；　and　she　could　have　mastered　the
science　of　angles　as　she　had　mastered　tennis　and　French　and　German　and
Italian。　　She　had　naturally　a　fine　intellect；　with　many　of　her　father's
characteristics；　and　a　tender　heart　that　made　every　dumb　creature　her
friend。

Katie　Leary；　who　had　been　Jean's　nurse；　once　told　how；　as　a　little　child；
Jean　had　not　been　particularly　interested　in　a　picture　of　the　Lisbon
earthquake；　where　the　people　were　being　swallowed　up；　but　on　looking　at
the　next　page；　which　showed　a　number　of　animals　being　overwhelmed；　she
had　said：

〃Poor　things！〃

Katie　said：

〃Why；　you　didn't　say　that　about　the　people！〃

But　Jean　answered：

〃Oh；　they　could　speak。〃

One　night　at　the　dinner…table　her　father　was　saying　how　difficult　it　must
be　for　a　man　who　had　led　a　busy　life　to　give　up　the　habit　of　work。

〃That　is　why　the　Rogerses　kill　themselves；〃　he　said。　　They　would　rather
kill　themselves　in　the　old　treadmill　than　stop　and　try　to　kill　time。　
They　have　forgotten　how　to　rest。　　They　know　nothing　but　to　keep　on　till
they　drop。〃

I　told　of　something　I　had　read　not　long　before。　　It　was　about　an　aged
lion　that　had　broken　loose　from　his　cage　at　Coney　Island。　　He　had　not
offered　to　hurt　any　one；　but　after　wandering　about　a　little；　rather
aimlessly；　he　had　come　to　a　picket…fence；　and　a　moment　later　began　pacing
up　and　down　in　front　of　it；　just　the　length　of　his　cage。　　They　had　come
and　led　him　back　to　his　prison　without　trouble；　and　he　had　rushed　eagerly
into　it。　　I　noticed　that　Jean　was　listening　anxiously；　and　when　I
finished　she　said：

〃Is　that　a　true　story？〃

She　had　forgotten　altogether　the　point　in　illustration。　　She　was
concerned　only　with　the　poor　old　beast　that　had　found　no　joy　in　his
liberty。