Elmira, July 27.
Dear Folks—
Mr Langdon is getting along very well, & slowly progressing toward recovery., we think. But we still [sit up ] with him night & day.1
We are glad you are all so well satisfied in Fredonia.
But why is Margaret going?—what is the matter? You seem to take it for granted that we know all about it. If Margaret needs a nice new trunk, I want you to get her one, & a common dress & also a fine one for Sunday, & send the bill to [me. ] ‸(and do not be stingy in the prices.)‸ I am very sorry she is going away. I had hoped she would spend all her days with you.2
I am going to write a 600-page 8vo. book (like the last) for my publishers (it is a secret for a few days yet.) It will be about Nevada & California & must be finished Jan 1. I shall begin it about a month from now. By request, Orion has sent me his note-book of the Plains trip. Now I always thought that we used $600 of my money (& so we did), but I see no mention of it [here. I ]wonder if we ever had any settlement of that account. I suppose of course we had—else I would pay my indebtedness to Mollie with that sum & interest to date.3
Affection’ly
Sam.
P. S. The “Innocents Abroad” paid me 12 to $1500 a month—the next book will pay considerably more.4
Explanatory Notes | Textual Commentary
Mrs. Clemens, her sister, (Susy Crane,) and I did all
the nursing both day and night, during two months until the end. Two
months of scorching, stifling heat. How much of the nursing did I
do? My main watch was from midnight till four in the
morning—nearly four hours. My other watch was a midday
watch, and I think it was only three hours. The two sisters divided
the remaining seventeen hours of the twenty-four between them, and
each of them tried generously and persistently to swindle the other
out of a part of her watch. The “on” watch
could not be depended upon to call the “off”
watch—excepting when I was the “on”
watch. I went to bed early every night, and tried to get sleep enough by
midnight to fit me for my work, but it was always a failure. I went
on watch sleepy and remained miserably sleepy and wretched straight
along through the four hours. I can still see myself sitting by that
bed in the melancholy stillness of the sweltering night,
mechanically waving a palm-leaf over the drawn white face of the
patient; I can still recall my noddings, my fleeting
unconsciousnesses, when the fan would come to a standstill in my
hand, and I would wake up with a start and a hideous shock. I can
recall all the torture of my efforts to keep awake; I can recall the
sense of the indolent march of time, and how the hands of the tall
clock seemed not to move at all, but to stand still. Through the
long vigil there was nothing to do but softly wave the
fan—and the gentleness and monotony of the movement
itself helped to make me sleepy. The malady was cancer of the
stomach, and not curable. There were no medicines to give. It was a
case of slow and steady perishing. At long intervals, the foam of
champagne was administered to the patient, but no other nourishment,
so far as I can remember. . . . I was well and strong, but I was a man and afflicted with a
man’s infirmity—lack of endurance. But neither
of those young women was well nor strong, yet
‸still‸ I never found either of them sleepy or unalert when
I came on watch; yet, as I have said, they divided seventeen hours
of watching between them in every twenty-four. It is a marvelous
thing. It filled me with wonder and admiration; also with shame, for
my dull incompetency. Of course the physicians begged those
daughters to permit the employment of professional nurses, but they
would not consent. The mere mention of such a thing grieved them so
that the matter was soon dropped, and not again referred to. (AD, 15 Feb 1906, CU-MARK, in MTA, 2:113–15)
Source text(s):
Previous publication:
L4, 175–176; MTBus, 117, with omission.
Provenance:see McKinney Family Papers in Description of Provenance.
Emendations and textual notes:
sit up • situ sit up [false start; ‘it’ partly formed]
me. • [deletion implied]
here. I • here.—|I