To
Pamela A. Moffett
14? November 1880 • Hartford, Conn.
(Transcript by Albert Bigelow Paine, CU-MARK,
and MTB, 2:696, UCCL 11995)
[[first two pages of letter missing when transcript was made]]
We are going to partly tear down our big north chimney in the spring & see if we can’t make that dining room [fireplace] work better.
We had a very lovely visit from Sam, its only fault being that it was too short. He didn’t give us much notice, but it turned out all right, as 5 persons whom we were expecting upon a succession of days all failed to come, for one reason or another.
I tried to make Sam open his mouth when he talks, & also expel the [sounds,] not keep them within, & also cut his [syllables] distinctly—I mean cleanly.
He has the worst use of the organs of speech of any educated person I have ever seen. When he stood facing me, only 4 feet away, & read a passage from a book, I caught only the general meaning of what he said.
I think his coughs & bronchial troubles are sufficiently accounted for. I only wonder that he has any lungs or throat left. Sam flats on all words; I do not believe he pronounces any word in the language roundly & correctly. It will take long & diligent & pains-taking training, with a good singing-master (no idiot elecutionist,) to cure these formidable defects—& the sooner he gets at it the better, I judge.
Yes, no doubt I got the letters & sermons, but I don’t often answer any but business letters, because the other sort require so much time,—I only answer Mother Langdon’s letters once a year & Susie Crane’s once in two years. I don’t answer Clara Spaulding’s at all, though we consider her a member of the family.
Well I did answer one of hers some time ago, but it was a mistake; it alarmed her—she supposed I must be sick. You see, I write on an average, 400 pages of manuscript per working month—to do this, one must make it a rigid duty to refrain from writing family letters—there [ain’t] any other way. I can’t write one before work, for then I should go to work with depleted fuel; I can’t write one after work, for that would waste me like sickness (I’m 45 & must go carefully;) when I do write one, I don’t do any work that [day]. You see, I conscientiously put the very best work I possibly can into my books, for I have made an estimate & found that I get 25 cents a word for every word in the “Tramp,” [which] is $20 per note-paper page of M.S.—for I usually get 80 words onto a page like this which I am now writing.
I try to keep my weekly holidays (Saturday & Sunday) utterly sacred from mental activity of any sort; wherefore if I am to write a friendly letter, I sacrifice a work day to it.
I’m not sacrificing a work-day [today, however,] because I finished a story the size of Tom Sawyer last week and [I’m] standing idle till next Tuesday, when the contract with the publisher is to be ratified.
But the publisher is going to find himself in a tight place, for he has over looked the principal party to this contract—Livy. I have [2] stories, [&] by the verbal agreement they are both going into the same book; but Livy says they’re not, [&] by [George I] she ought to know. She says [they are] going into separate books, [&] that one of them is going to be elegantly gotten up, even if the elegance of it eats up the publisher’s profits [&] mine too.
I anticipate that publisher’s melancholy surprise when he calls here Tuesday. However, let him [suffer,] it is his own fault. People who fix up agreements with me without first finding out what Livy’s plans [are,] take their fate into their own hands.
I said [ two ] stories—but one of them is only half done; two or three [months’] work on it yet. I shall tackle it Wednesday or [Thursday—]that [is,]if Livy [yields] [&] allows both stories to go in one book—which I hope she [ won’t, ] for I wish to do book-work only in the summer time, [reserving the
[unknown amount of text omitted from transcription] ]
P.S.—I am very glad indeed that Ma is so comfortably fixed & is so well. We shall hope to pay a visit there next summer. Livy is first-rate & so are all of us. Jean is very fat & gross & good-natured & healthy—but, it cost her nearly all her beauty to reach this satisfactory state. We send love to all.
Private— Suppose, when you write Mrs. Penn, you enclose to her pages 11, & 13 of this letter, there being no privacies in these. I wanted to write her myself, but it won’t do to trust people. If I happened to say [anything] I didn’t want to see in print, the usual result would happen—it would go into some [newspaper]. She won’t find [anything] printable in the 3 pages I mention—nothing I should mind [anyway].
Now I’ve used up all my paper, & all my memoranda & all my scraps & odds & ends—so there couldn’t be a better place to stop.
Textual Commentary
Source text(s):| Tr | Transcript by Albert Bigelow Paine, CU-MARK |
| P |
MTB, 2:696. ‘I have . . . won’t’ |
Provenance:See Paine Transcripts in Description of Provenance.
Emendations, adopted readings, and textual notes:
[first two pages of letter missing when transcript was made] (MTP) • Hartford. 1880 | This letter begins with page 3– (Tr)
fireplace (MTP) • fire place (Tr)
sounds, (MTP) • sound | (Tr)
syllables (MTP) • sylables (Tr)
ain’t (MTP) • isn’t [altered in pencil by Paine, presumably for editorial reasons] (Tr)
day (MTP) • d | day (Tr)
which (MTP) • Which (Tr)
today, however, (MTP) • to day, however (Tr)
2 (Tr) • two (P)
& (Tr) • and (P)
& (Tr) • and (P)
George I (Tr) • George I. (P)
they are (Tr) • they’re (P)
& (Tr) • and (P)
& (Tr) • and (P)
suffer, (Tr) • suffer; (P)
are, (Tr) • are (P)
two (P) • two (Tr)
months’ (P) • months (Tr)
Thursday— (Tr) • Thursday; (P)
is, (P) • is—, (Tr)
yields (P) • yeilds (Tr)
& (Tr) • and (P)
won’t, (Tr) • won’t. (P)
reserving the | [unknown amount of text omitted from transcription] (MTP) • reserving the ; ; [The missing portion of text probably corresponds at least in part to the MS pages (11 and 13) Clemens suggested sending to Mrs. Penn] (Tr)
anything (MTP) • any-thing (Tr)
newspaper (MTP) • news-paper (Tr)
anything (MTP) • any-thing (Tr)
anyway (MTP) • any-way (Tr)
