Mr. Twain’s humour is to combine with an exaggerated, but in effect pretty truthful account of the place on which he lectures an exuberant leaven of the wild fun which we call American, and it is a curious circumstance that though the best points of his anecdotes are in the region of perpetual romance, every hearer knows by a sort of instinct how much to believe, and goes away as much informed by what is true as he is amused by what is grotesque and fanciful.

As it is altogether impossible to retell Mr. Twain’s stories without spoiling them, we shall make no attempt to indicate the means by which he last night provoked incessant mirth. Suffice it that his sallies were as unexpected, his moralisings as much governed by the rule of contraries, his stories as rich in comic incident, and his serious descriptions as full of poetry and glow, as the corresponding features of his previous lecture. (“Mr. Mark Twain on the Silver Frontier,” 10 Jan 74, 5)

There was a large attendance, and the satisfaction of the audience appeared to be unbounded. Though the public are in a great measure familiar with the lecturer’s peculiar observations respecting the inhabitants of those distant islands, . . . the uniqueness of his perfectly unimpassioned subtle droll manner made the recital of even his best known pleasantries as enjoyable as the personations of the most popular comic actors. (“Mark Twain’s Lecture,” unidentified newspaper clipping in CU-MARK)