than once I journeyed into the country on one errand and another； mainly
for rest； but a card saying that he was lonely and upset； for lack of his
evening games； quickly brought me back again。 It was my wish only to
serve him； it was a privilege and an honor to give him happiness。
Billiards； however； was not his only recreation just then。 He walked out
a good deal； and especially of a pleasant Sunday morning he liked the
stroll up Fifth Avenue。 Sometimes we went as high as Carnegie's； on
Ninety…second Street； and rode home on top of the electric stagealways
one of Mark Twain's favorite diversions。
From that high seat he liked to look down on the panorama of the streets；
and in that free； open air he could smoke without interference。 Oftener；
however； we turned at Fifty…ninth Street； walking both ways。
When it was pleasant we sometimes sat on a bench in Central Park； and
once he must have left a handkerchief there； for a few days later one of
his handkerchiefs came to him accompanied by a note。 Its finder； a Mr。
Lockwood； received a reward； for Mark Twain wrote him：
There is more rejoicing in this house over that one handkerchief
that was lost and is found again than over the ninety and nine that
never went to the wash at all。 Heaven will reward you； I know it
will。
On Sunday mornings the return walk would be timed for about the hour that
the churches would be dismissed。 On the first Sunday morning we had
started a little early； and I thoughtlessly suggested； when we reached
Fifty…ninth Street； that if we returned at once we would avoid the
throng。 He said； quietly：
〃I like the throng。〃
So we rested in the Plaza Hotel until the appointed hour。 Men and women
noticed him； and came over to shake his hand。 The gigantic man in
uniform； in charge of the carriages at the door； came in for a word。 He
had opened carriages for Mr。 Clemens at the Twenty…third Street station；
and now wanted to claim that honor。 I think he received the most cordial
welcome of any one who came。 I am sure he did。 It was Mark Twain's way
to warm to the man of the lower social rank。 He was never too busy；
never too preoccupied； to grasp the hand of such a man； to listen to his
story； and to say just the words that would make that man happy
remembering them。
We left the Plaza Hotel and presently were amid the throng of outpouring
congregations。 Of course he was the object on which every passing eye
turned； the presence to which every hat was lifted。 I realized that this
open and eagerly paid homage of the multitude was still dear to him； not
in any small and petty way； but as the tribute of a nation； the
expression of that affection which in his London and Liverpool speeches
he had declared to be the last and final and most precious reward that
any man can win； whether by character or achievement。 It was his final
harvest； and he had the courage to claim itthe aftermath of all his
years of honorable labor and noble living。
CCLXII
FROM MARK TWAIN's MAIL
If the reader has any curiosity as to some of the less usual letters
which a man of wide public note may inspire； perhaps he will find a
certain interest in a few selected from the thousands which yearly came
to Mark Twain。
For one thing； he was constantly receiving prescriptions and remedies
whenever the papers reported one of his bronchial or rheumatic attacks。
It is hardly necessary to quote examples of these； but only a form of his
occasional reply； which was likely to be in this wise：
DEAR SIR ＇or MADAM＇；I try every remedy sent to me。 I am now on
No。 87。 Yours is 2；653。 I am looking forward to its beneficial
results。
Of course a large number of the nostrums and palliatives offered were
preparations made by the wildest and longest…haired medical cranks。 One
of these sent an advertisement of a certain Elixir of Life； which was
guaranteed to cure everythingto 〃wash and cleanse the human molecules；
and so restore youth and preserve life everlasting。〃
Anonymous letters are not usually popular or to be encouraged； but Mark
Twain had an especial weakness for compliments that came in that way。
They were not mercenary compliments。 The writer had nothing to gain。
Two such letters followboth written in England just at the time of his
return。
MARK TWAIN。
DEAR SIR；Please accept a poor widow's good…by and kindest wishes。
I have had some of your books sent to me； have enjoyed them very
muchonly wish I could afford to buy some。
I should very much like to have seen you。 I have many photos of you
which I have cut from several papers which I read。 I have one where
you are writing in bed； which I cut from the Daily News。 Like
myself； you believe in lots of sleep and rest。 I am 70 and I find I
need plenty。 Please forgive the liberty I have taken in writing to
you。 If I can't come to your funeral may we meet beyond the river。
May God guard you； is the wish of a lonely old widow。
Yours sincerely；
The other letter also tells its own story：
DEAR； KIND MARK TWAIN；For years I have wanted to write and thank
you for the comfort you were to me once； only I never quite knew
where you were； and besides I did not want to bother you； but to…day
I was told by some one who saw you going into the lift at the Savoy
that you looked sad and I thought it might cheer you a little tiny
bit to hear how you kept a poor lonely girl from ruining her eyes
with crying every night for long months。
Ten years ago I had to leave home and earn my living as a governess
and Fate sent me to spend a winter with a very dull old country
family in the depths of Staffordshire。 According to the genial
English custom； after my five charges had gone to bed； I took my
evening meal alone in the school…room； where 〃Henry Tudor had supped
the night before Bosworth；〃 and there I had to stay without a soul
to speak to till I went to bed。 At first I used to cry every night；
but a friend sent me a copy of your Huckleberry Finn and I never
cried any more。 I kept him handy under the copy…books and maps； and
when Henry Tudor commenced to stretch out his chilly hands toward me
I grabbed my dear Huck and he never once failed me； I opened him at
random and in two minutes I was in another world。 That's why I am
so grateful to you and so fond of you； and I thought you might like
to know； for it is yourself that has the kind heart； as is easily
seen from the way you wrote about the poor old nigger。 I am a
stenographer now and live at home； but I shall never forget how you
helped me。 God bless you and spare you long to those you are dear
to。
A letter which came to him soon after his return from England contained a
clipping which reported the good work done by Christian missionaries in
the Congo； especially among natives afflicted by the terrible sleeping
sickness。 The letter itself consisted merely of a line； which said：
Won't you give your friends； the missionaries； a good mark for this？
The writer's name was signed； and Mark Twain answered：
In China the missionaries are not wanted； & so they ought to be
decent & go away。 But I have not heard that in the Congo the
missionary servants of God are unwelcome to the native。
Evidently those missionaries axe pitying； compassionate； kind。 How
it would improve God to take a lesson from them！ He invented &
distributed the germ of that awful disease among those helpless；
poor savages； & now He sits with His elbows on the balusters & looks
down & enjoys this wanton crime。 Confidently； & between you & me…
well； never mind； I might get struck by lightning if I said it。
Those are good and kindly men； those missionaries； but they are a
measureless satire upon their Master。
To which the writer answered：
O wicked Mr。 Clemens！ I have to ask Saint Joan of Arc to pray for
you； then one of these days； when we all stand before the Golden
Gates and we no longer 〃see through a glass darkly and know only in
part；〃 there will be a struggle at the heavenly portals between Joan
of Arc and St。 Peter； but your blessed Joan will conquer and she'll
lead Mr。 Clemens through the gates of pearl and apologize and plead
for him。
Of the letters that irritated him； perhaps the following is as fair a
sample as any； and it has additional interest in its sequel。
DEAR SIR；I have written a booknaturallywhich fact； however；
since I am not your enemy； need give you no occasion to rejoice。
Nor need you grieve； though I am sending you a copy。 If I knew of
any way of compelling you to read it I would do so； but unless the
first few pages have that effect I can do nothing。 Try the first
few pages。 I have done a great deal more than that with your books；
so perhaps you owe me some thingsay ten pages。 If after that
attempt you put it aside I shall be sorryfor you。
I a