Hartford, 10th.
Livy darling, the dispatch came, & I answered it right away. Funny, ain’t it, how the letters hang fire? I have written every day but two, I believe—one day in N. Y., & one since I arrived here. One day I wrote two letters—one of them brief. Shall do that oftener hereafter.1
Also the box of clothing came, & was welcome. It was thoughtful of you, my treasure. With this box came another from N. Y.,—for I bought two coats & five vests there. I am all right, now. I didn’t need five vests, but sent for them in a spurt of anger when I found I had nothing with me but a lot of those hated old single breasted atrocities that I have thrown away thirteen times, given away six times, & burned up twice. Now I’ll inflict them on Orion, with the understanding that the next time I find them among my traps again there shall be a permanent coolness in the Clemens family here.2
I wrote a splendid chapter today, for the middle of the book.3 I admire the book more & more, the more I cut & slash & lick & trim & revamp it. But you’ll be getting impatient, now, & so I am going to begin tonight & work day & night both till I get through. It is a tedious, arduous job shaping [ so such] a mass of MS for the press. It took me two months to do it for the Innocents. But this is another sight easier job, because it is so much better literary work—so much more acceptably written. It takes 1800 pages of MS to make this book?—& that is just what I have got—or rather, I have got 1,830. I thought that just a little over 1500 pages would be enough & that I could leave off all the Overland trip—& what a pity I can’t.4
Ma bought a silk dress yesterday, for $24, & tired herself clear out, today, helping Mary & Annie make it up.5 She looked fagged. You see, they couldn’t find a sempstress, & Ma absolutely needed the dress to swell around in while she is here. Ma is a wonderfully winning woman, with her gentle simplicity & her never-failing goodness of heart & yearning interest in all creatures & their smallest joys & sorrows. It is why she is such a good letter-writer—this warm personal interest of hers in every thing that others have at heart. Whatever is important to another is important to her. Her letters treat of everybody’s affairs, & would make her out ‸seem‸ a mousing, meddling, uneasy devil of a gossip to a person who did not know her.
Annies is a very attractive & interesting girl, & your brown silk becomes her exceedingly, it is so modest & yet so dressy & handsome.
Mollie is always attractive & pleasant and interesting, in company.
Orion is as queer & [ heedless ] ‸heedless a bird‸ as ever. He met a strange young lady in the hall this evening; mistook her for the [landlady]’s daughter (the resemblance being similar ‸equal‸ to that between a cameleopard & a kangaroo,) & shouted: “Hello, you’re back early!” She took him for a fugitive from the asylum & left without finishing her errand.
Night before last he was standing on the porch—absentminded, as usual—when a lady came out with the landlady—couldn’t get the gate open—Orion said to the landlady, “Stay where you are—I’ll open it for her”—which he did. Thought he knew her—which he didn’t. Said: “It is getting late—I’m going to see you home.” She said, “Oh, no, thank you—it isn’t f very far, & I’m not afraid.” Said he, gaily: “Oh, you ain’t?! well if ‸ you ‸ ain’t I ain’t either—so come along.” What could the woman do, with so cheerful an infant? Why, simply let him go home with her—which she did. She took him a route he had never traveled before—finally stopped before a house he never had seen before—said: “This is my home; I am much obliged to you, sir: [Good-night]”—& left him standing there wondering whether his friend had moved ‸her habitation‸ within twenty-four hours, or whether he had been making an ass of himself again. The odds were in favor of the latter—& if he had bet with himself on it he might have made some money.
But this won’t [do. Good ]night, my old darling & yours truly will go to work.
Samℓ
P. S.—I[’] ‸ll‸ bet Bliss is still carrying some of my letters in his pocket. That’s why they don’t go.
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Mrs. Samℓ. L. Clemens | Care Langdon
| Elmira | N. Y. [postmarked:] hartford [ct]. aug 1111 am
[docketed by OLC:] 6 8th
Explanatory Notes | Textual Commentary
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Previous publication:
L4, 443–445; Hill, 48, 54, brief excerpts; LLMT, 159–60.
Provenance:
see Samossoud Collection in Description of Provenance.
Emendations and textual notes:
so such • souch
heedless • [false ascenders/descenders]
landlady • land-|lady
Good-night • Good-|night
do. Good • do.— | Good
ct. • [ct]. [badly inked]