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。