A Family Sketch and Other Private Writings

by Twain, Mark, Griffin, Benjamin

  The article was written in July or August and just the other day papa received quite a bright letter from a gentleman who has read the C.U. article and give his opinion of it in these words.—c

  March. 14th ’86

  Mr. Laurence Barrette and Mr. and Mrs. Hutton were here a little while ago, and we had a very interesting visit from them. Papa said Mr. Barette never had acted so well before when he had seen him, as he did the first night he was staying with us. And Mrs. — said she never had seen an actor on the stage, whome she more wanted to speak with.

  Papa has been very much interested of late, in the “Mind Cure” theory. And in fact so have we all. A young lady in town has worked wonders, by using the “Mind Cure” upon people; she is constantly busy now curing peoples deseases in this way.—And curing her own even, which to me seems the most remarkable of all.—

  A little while past, papa was delighted, with the knowledge of what he thought the best way of curing a cold, which was by starving it. This starving did work beautifully, and freed him from a great many severe colds. Now he says it wasn’t the starving that helped his colds, but the trust in the starving, the mind cure connected with the starving.

  I shouldn’t wonder if we finally became firm believers in Mind Cure. The next time papa has a cold, I haven’t a doubt, he will send for “Miss Holden” the young lady who is doctoring in the “Mind Cure” theory, to cure him of it.

  Mamma was over at Mrs. George Warners to lunch the other day, and Miss Holden was there too. Mamma asked if anything as natural as near sightedness could be cured she said oh yes just as well as other deseases.—

  When mamma came home, she took me into her room, and told me that perhaps my near-sightedness could be cured by the “Mind Cure”; and that [she] was going to have me try the treatment anyway, there could be no harm in it, and there might be great good. If her plan succeeds there certainly will be a great deal in “Mind Cure” to my oppinion, for I am very near sighted, and so is mamma, and I never expected there could be any more cure for it, than for blindness, but now I dont know but what theres a cure for that.

  March 14th ’86.

  Clara sprained her ankle, a little while ago, by running into a tree, when coasting, and while she [was] unable to walk with it she played solotair with cards a great deal. While Clara was sick and papa saw her play solotair so much, he got very much interested in the game, and finally began to play it himself a little, then Jean took it up, and at last mamma, even played it ocasionally; Jean’s and papa’s love for it rappidly increased, and now Jean brings the cards every night to the table and papa and mamma help her play, and before dinner is at an end, papa has gotten a seperate pack of cards, and is playing alone, with great interest, mamma and Clara next are made subject to the contagious solatair, and there are four solataireans at the table; while you hear nothing but, “Fill up the place” etc. It is dreadful! after supper Clara goes into the library, and gets a little red mahogany table, and placing it under the gasfixture seats herself and begins to play again, then papa follows with another table of the same discription, and they play solatair till bed-time.

  We have just had our Prince and Pauper pictures taken; two groups and some little single ones. The groups (the Interview and Lady Jane Grey scene) were pretty good, the lady Jane Grey scene was perfect, just as pretty as it could be, the Interview was not so good; and two of the little single pictures very good indeed, but one was very bad. Yet on [the] whole we think they were a success.

  Papa has done a great deal in his life I think, that is good, and very remarkable, but I think if he had, had the advantages with which he could have developed the gifts which he has made no use of in writing his books, or in any other way for other peoples pleasure and benefit outside of his own family and intimate friends, he could have done more than he has and a great deal more even. He is known to the public as a humorist, but he has much more in him that is earnest, than that is humorous. He has a keen sense of the ludricous, notices funny stories and incidents knows how to tell them, to improve upon them, and does not forget them. He has been through a great many of the funny adventures, related in “Tom Sayer” and in “Hucleberry Finn,” himself and he lived among just such boys, and in just such villages all the days of his early life. “His Prince and Pauper” is his most orriginal, and best production; it shows the most of any of his books what kind of pictures are in his mind usually; not that the pictures of England in the 16th century and the adventures of a little prince and pauper are the kind of things he mainly thinks about; but that, that book, and those pictures represent the train of thought and imagination he would be likely to be thinking of today, tomorrow, or next day, more nearly than those given in “Tom Sawyer” or Hucleberry Finn.”

  Papa can make exeedingly bright jokes, and he enjoys funny things, and when he is with people he jokes and laughs a great deal; but still he is more interested in earnest books and earnest subjects to talk upon, than in humorous ones. When we are all alone at home, nine times out of ten, he talks about some very earnest subject, (with an ocasional joke thrown in) and he a good deal more often talks upon such subjects than upon the other kind.

  He is as much a Pholosopher than anything I think, I think he could have done a great deal in this way if he had studied while young, for he seems to enjoy reasoning out things, no matter what; in a great many such directions, he has greater abillity than in the gifts which have made him famous.

  March. 21st. Sunday.—Here is another of papa’s stories told to me by Jean.—

  “The Generous Fender.”—

  Once there was a night.—and a pair of tongs and a shuvel came into the library, with the other tongs and shuvels, and puled out the ancanifertent fender, from the fire-place, and began to kick it because they didn’t like it, but the fender was good; but they went on kicking till the fender was full of dents, and spoiled. (The people of the house had gone out to a party and they staid away all night) So the tongs and shuvels kicked the poor fender till they were tired, and then put it back in its place.—

  Here Jean stopped, she had forgotten the rest of the story, and I could in no way persuade her to go on.

  March. 23 ’86.

  The other day was my birthday, and I had a little birthday party in the evening. and papa acted some very funny charades with Mr. Gherhardt, Mr. Jesse Grant (who had come up from New York and was spending the evening with us,)—and Mr. Frank Warner.—One of them was “on his knees” honys-sneeze.

  There were a good many other funny ones, all, of which I dont remember.

  Mr. Grant was very pleasant, and began playing the charades in the most delightful way.—

  March. 26. Mamma and Papa have been in New York for two or three days, and Miss Corey has been staying with us. They are coming home today at two o’clock.

  Papa has just begun to play chess, and he is very fond of it, so he has engaged to play with Mrs. Charles Warner every morning from 10 to 12, he came down to supper last night, full of this pleasant prospect, but evidently with something on his mind. Finally he said to Mamma in an appologetical tone, Susy Warner and I have a plan.—

  “Well” mamma said “what now I [wonder],” Papa said that “Susy Warner” and he were going to name the chess men after some of the old bible heroes, and then play chess on Sunday.—

  April 18th ’86.

  Mamma and papa Clara and Daisy have gone to New York to see the “Mikado.” They are coming home tonight at half past seven.

  The other day mamma got a new rug, and she wanted to hang it up in front of the dining-room door; (aunt Clara had come two or three days before) the rug was spread out by the door, and mamma was looking at it, and comparing it with the door, to see if it was broad enough, aunt Clara seemed to think it wasn’t broad enough. Mamma said “Clara I’ve the greatest mind to lie down and see.” “Lie down and see”? “why what do you mean Livy”? aunt Clara asked wondering. “Why I mean I’ve the greatest mind to lie down by the rug, and see how long it is; a
nd then get up and measure by the door.” “Well aunt Clara said laughing, it seems to me, that is the most orriginal way of measuring a rug, I have ever seen.”

  Last winter when Mr. Cable was lecturing with papa, he wrote this letter to him, just before he came to visite us.

  Everett House

  New York Jan. 21/84

  Dear Uncle,

  That’s one nice thing about me, I never bother any one, to offer me a good thing twice. You dont ask me to stay over Sunday, but then you dont ask me to leave Saturday night, and knowing the nobility of your nature as I do—thank you, I’ll stay till Monday morning.

  Your’s and the dear familie’s

  George W. Cable.—

  April 19.

  Yes the Mind Cure does seem to be working wonderfully, papa who has been using glasses now, for more than a year, has laid them off entirely. And my nearsightedness is realy getting better. It seems marvelous! When Jean has stomack ache, Clara and I have tried to divert her, by telling her to lie on her side and try Mind Cure. The novelty of it, has made her willing to try it, and then Clara and I would exclaim about how wonderful it was it was getting better! and she would think it realy was finally, and stop crying, to our delight.

  The other day mamma went into the library, and found her lying on the sofa with her back toward the door. She said “why Jean what’s the matter? dont you fell well? Jean said that she had a little stomack ache, and so thought she would lie down. Mamma said “why dont you try Mind Cure? “I am” Jean answered.

  The other night papa read us a little article, which he had just written entitled “Luck,” it was very good we thought.

  The stories of prevailing interest, which Papa tells us is “Jim and the strainin rag” and “Whoop says I” Jim and the strainin rag is simply a discription of a little scene way out west; but he tells it in such a funny way, that it is captivating.

  “Jim and the strainin Rag”

  “Aunt Sal”!—aunt Sal! Jim’s gone got the new strainin rag roun’ his sore schin. A. S. You Jim, take that ar strainin rag off you sore schin, an’ renc’ it out, I aller’s did dispise nastiness.”

  “Whoop Says I.”

  Good morning Mrs. What is it yer got in yer basket? Fish says she. They stinc says I. Ter Hell says she. Whoop! says I.—

  We all played a game of Croquet yesterday evening, and aunt Clara and I beat papa and Clara, to our perfect satisfaction.

  “Mark Twain has reached his fiftieth birthday, and has been warmly congratulated on his “Jubilee” by most of the wits of his native land. As the Ettrick Shepherd said to Wordsworth, when first they met “Im’e glad you’r so young a man” So one might observe to Mark, and wish he were still younger. But his genious is still young, and perhaps never showed so well, with such strength and variety, such varacity and humor, as in his latest book “Hucleberry Finn.” Persons of extreemely fine culture, may have no taste for Mark when he gets among pictures and holy places, Mark is all himself, and the most powerful and diverting writer I think of his American Contemperaries. Here followeth, rather late, but heartily well meant, a tribute to Mark on his Jubilee:

  “For Mark Twain”

  “To brave Mark Twain, across the sea,

  The years have brought his Jubilee.

  One hears it, half in pain,

  That fifty years have passed and gone,

  Since danced the merry star that shone

  Above the babe Mark Twain.”

  How many, and many a weary day,

  When sad enough were we, Marks way,

  (Unlike the Laureates Markes)

  Has made us laugh until we cried,

  And, sinking back exausted, sighed

  Like Gargery Wot larx!

  “We turn his pages and we see

  The Mississippi flowing free;

  We turn again and grin

  Oer all Tom Sayer did and planned

  With him of the ensanguined hand,

  With Hucleberry Finn!

  Spirit of Mirth, whose chime of bells,

  Shakes on his cap, and sweetly swells

  Across the Atlantic main,

  Grant that Mark’s laughter never die,

  That men through many a century

  May chucle oer Mark Twain!

  By Andrew Lang.

  Mr. W. D. Howells, and his daughter Pilla have been here, to visite us, and we have enjoyed them very much. They arived Saturday at half past two and staid till Sunday night. Sunday night at supper papa and Mr. Howells began to talk about the Jews. Mr. Howells said that in “Silas Lapham” he wrote a sentence about a Jew, that was perfectly true, and he meant no harm to the Jews in saying it, it was true, and he saw no reason why it should not be recognized as fact. But after the story came out in the Century, two or three Jews wrote him, saying in a very plaintive and meek, way, that they wished he wouldn’t say that about them, he said that after he received these letters his consions pricked him very much for having said what he did—

  At last one of these Jews wrote him asking him, to take that sentence out of the story when it came out in book form; Mr. Howells said he thought, the Jews were a persecuted race, and a race already down. So he decided to take out the sentence, when the story appeared in book form.

  Papa said that a Mr. Wood an equaintance of his, new a rich Jew who read papa’s books a great deal. One day this Jew said that papa was the only great humorist, who had ever written without poking some fun against a Jew. And that as the Jews were such a good subject for fun and funny ridicule, he had often wondered why in all his stories, not one said or had anything in it against the Jews. And he asked Mr. Wood, the next time he saw papa to ask him how this happened.

  Mr. Wood soon did see papa and spoke to him, upon this subject. Papa at first did not know himself, why it was that he had never spoken unkindly of the Jews in any of his books; but after thinking awhile, he decided that, the Jews had always seemed to him, a race much to be respected; also they had suffered much, and had been greatly persecuted; so to ridicul or make fun of them, seemed to be like attacking a man that was already down. And of course that fact took away whatever there was funny in the ridicule of a Jew.

  He said it seemed to him, the Jews ought to be respected very much, for two things pertickularly, one was that they never begged, that one never saw a Jew begging, another was that they always took care of their poor, that although one never heard of a Jewish orphans home, there must be such things, for the poor Jews seemed always well taken care of.

  He said that once the ladies of a orphans home wrote him asking him if he would come to Chicago and lecture for the benefit of the orphans. So papa went, and read for their benefit. He said that they were the most forlorn looking little wretches ever seen.—He said the fact was they were starving to death. The ladies said they had done everything possible, but could not raise enough money; and they said that what they realy most needed was a bath tub. So they said that as their last resource they decided to write to him asking him to lecture, for them, to see if in that way they could not raise a little money.

  And they said what was most humiliating about their lack of means was that right next door, there was [a] Jewish Orphan’s home, which had everything that was needed to make it comfortable. They said that this home was also a work of charity, but that they never knew, of its begging for anything of any one outside a Jew. They said no one (hardly) knew, that it was a Jewish home, exept they who lived right next door, to it. And that very few knew there was such a building in the city.

  May 6, ’86.

  Papa has contrived a new way for us to remember dates. We are to bring to breakfast every morning a date, without fail, and now they are to be dates from English historie. At the farm two summers ago he drove pegs into the ground all around the place representing each [king’s reign] following each other according. Then we used to play games running between these different pegs till finally we knew when each king or queen reighned and in refference to the kings preceeding them.�
��

  The other day, mamma went into the library and found papa sitting there reading a book, and roaring with laughter over it; she asked him what he was reading, he answered that he hadn’t stopped to look at the title of the book,” and went on reading; she glanced over his shoulder at the cover, and found it was one of his own books.

  June 26./86

  We are all of us on our way to Keokuk to see Grandma Clemens, who is very feeble and wants to see us. And pertickularly Jean who is her name sake. We are going by way of the lakes, as papa thought that would be the most comfortable way.

  July 4. We have arived in Keokuk after a very pleasant

  a[Translation: “My dear little daughter, how are Cleveland and Buffalo Bill now? Do you remember the mountain goats, or mountain sheep, we saw at Buffalo Bill’s show in Elmira? The poor beasts were recently lost through shipwreck. This accident occurred on the Mississippi. The steamboat was wrecked on a hidden rock, and although Buffalo Bill and his Indians and the rest of the animals were rescued, the goats plunged straight into the water and were never seen again. Also, one or maybe two of the buffalo were drowned. That makes my heart so heavy that I can write no further. Write to me again and yet again my darling. P.S. My warmest greetings to your grandmamma.”]

  †[Susy’s footnote:] When Jean was a little thing Clara and I taught her to call us Guck and Ben, and Papa thought “Ben” so appropriate a name for Clara, that he still calls her that.

  ‡[Translation: “After my reading in Ithaca I went to the beer hall and found about forty students from Cornell University gathered there; and they made me heartily welcome with loud cheers and clapping of hands. Then they sang a lot of wonderful songs, with a solo and a thundering chorus. I stayed there until after midnight, then I made them a nice speech, and told two comic stories which were received with great applause. After that I drove home and was soon in bed.”]