Saint Louis, Wednesday, Nov. 20.1
My Dear Brother:
At last, I have succeeded in scraping together moments enough to write you. And it’s all owing to my own enterprise, too—for, running in the fog, on the coast, in order to beat another boat, I grounded the “Child” on the bank, at [nearly ]flood-tide, where we had to stay until the “great” tide ebbed and flowed again (24 hours,) before she floated off. And that dry-bank spell so warped and twisted the packet, and caused her to leak at such a rate, that she had to enter protest and go on the dock, here, which delays us until Friday morning.2 We had intended to leave today. As soon as we arrived here last Sunday morning, I jumped aboard the “McDowell” and went down to look at the river—grounded 100 miles below here—25 miles this side of the “crossing” which I started down to look at—stayed aground 24 hours—and by that time I grew tired and returned here to be ready for [to-day ]. I am sorry now that I did not hail a down-stream boat and go on—I would have had plenty of time.3
The New Orleans market fluctuates. If any man doubts this proposition, let him try it once. [ L Trip ]before last, chickens sold rapidly on the levee at $700 per doz—last trip they were not worth $300. Trip before last, eggs were worth $35 @ [40c ] per doz—last trip they were selling at 12½— which was rather discouraging, considering that we were in the market with 3,600 dozen, which we paid 15 cents for—together with 18 barrels of apples, which were not worth a d—m— We expected to get $6 or 7 per bbl. for them. We stored the infernal produce, and shall wait for the market to fluctuate again. But in the meantime, Nil desperandum—I am deep in another egg purchase, now.
I am ashamed of myself for not having sent you any money for such a long time. But the fact is, I’ll be darned if I had it. I went to the clerk awhile ago and asked him “how we stood?” “Twenty-two days’ wages—$183.33⅓.” “Deduct my egg speculation and give me the balance.” And he handed me $3500! So much for eggs. I gave the money to Ma. However, we shall have been here 4 days to-morrow. I’ll go and collect that and divide with you.
When I go to Memphis, Mo, I will see what can be done about produce in your part of the country.
Now, as I understand the “house,” business, you can get a big, respectable house to live in for $11000 a year—per. centage—which is cheap enough rent it seems to me—and 10 years to pay the principal—in law. Take it—and take the whole town on the same terms if you can get it. Furnish the house nicely, and move into it—and then, if you’ll invite me, I’ll be happy to pay you a visit. Let me know how much money you want to furnish the house with. About the other house I can tell nothing. If it be best to purchase—why—pitch in. I’ll raise the money in some way. You owe Uncle Billy Patterson and old Jimmy Clemens Jr. money—and if they were to die, [ ther their ]administrators would “gobble up” everything you’ve got.4 Therefore, put no property in your own name—either put your share in Ma’s name and my half in my own, or else put it all in Ma’s or mine—Ma’s will do me—and you, too, I reckon. If you can buy both houses with “law and 10 per cent,” take them—but see that the contract is carefully written out. Because, for one reason, the law business of an influential man like Downing5 is worth a great deal more money in the influence it carries with it, than [ the simply ]the money which is paid for it. Yes—you might advertize for cheap lots in your local paper. But perhaps you had better wait until I see whether this last egg speculation of mine is going to “smash” me or not.
Blast it—you didn’t ask Belle where she got that stone—and if I don’t get another pretty soon I’ll lose the setting—and it’s fine gold, and I want to save it.
“In conclusion”—Pamela has got a baby—which you may have heard before this. She is now reposing on her honors—seemingly well satisfied with the personal appearance of the very unexpected but not unwelcome young stranger—and deeming the matter “glory enough for one day.”6 (Sub rosa—a very small amount of this kind of glory would go a good way with the subscriber—if I were married—“which” I am not married, owing to the will of Providence and the “flickering” of my last.) And her nurse is almost the counterpart of Mrs. Gamp in “Martin Chuzzlewit”—who used to say—“[No,—M no ]—which them is the very words I have said more nor once to Mrs. Harris—No, m’a’m—I am oppoged to drinking, I says—not that I mean to say that I do nor I don’t, or I will or I won’t, myself. But what I say, is, ‘leave the bottle on the mankle-shelf, and let me put my lips to it when I’m so dispoged.[’]” I don’t mean to say that this Mrs. Gamp drinks—but I do say she looks just like the other Mrs. Gamp.7
Like all the letters of the family, this is to you and Mollie and Jennie8—all. And as I am “strapped”—and pushed for time, we’ll sing the doxology, as follows—hoping to hear from all of you soon:
“In the world’s great field of battle,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle—
Be a hero in the strife.”9
Amen.
Vôtre frère,
Sam. L. Clemens 10
Explanatory Notes | Textual Commentary
Orion Cliant that was to bring us wood for a
fee has disappinted us and Orion has just enguaged 5 cord hicory
2 dollars per cord Orion seams lowe spirited again I “hooked”
‸crotched‸ Orion a pair of mittens last week, cost
15¢
Tell Miss Christfield to be care ful how she
uses pain kill her Hura for the weddings and woe to them this
time next year Annie Martin wishes to get a guitar
instructor like Rets upon my recomendation; she will send the
money by Tom and you can tell him whare to get it or let him
enquire of Ret when he goes. I think the price is
$2,50¢. She had a copy of your likeness
taken from the one I have Mollie also glossed Clemens’s phrase “Sub rosa” with an asterisk and
note: “Under my breath or in a whisper.”
all write often tell us all the news it is
dull. I will write her soon. I asked Jennie what I should write for
her she said you need not write for me I will write to them next
Sunday. I am very sorry indeed to hear of Mary Anns family being
sick I advise you to go thare (when you are in town) and help
wait on them and there by heap coals of fire on her head I
reproach myself for not going to see Ann, she has erred but she
is yet a sister in name if not in action I think I will write
her a letter soon Jennie requests me to say she got a new book 2
weeks today & she has learned it nearly all through
but I will not tell her what is in it but I will read it to her
when I go over thare.
Source text(s):Previous publication:
L1, 103–106; Sotheby and Co., London, Catalogue of Nineteenth Century and Modern First Editions, Presentation
Copies, Autograph Letters and Literary Manuscripts, sale of 5 and 6
July 1971, lot 682, brief excerpts.
Provenance:see Appert Collection, p. 463. The letter was probably still in
Orion’s possession in about 1880, for he crossed out his
wife’s contemporary marginalia (see p. 106, n. 10) and pasted to
the MS a note that suggests he intended to include the letter in the
autobiography he was then writing: “My wife has penciled in the
margin of this letter: ‘Orion seems low-spirited
again.’” The MS, however, does not bear any of the
other markings, such as page numbers and directions for the printer, that
letters intended for insertion in the autobiography usually contain, and
Orion’s additions may have been made at some other time.
Emendations and textual notes:
nearly •
n[
]arly [torn]
to-|day • to-day
L Trip • [‘T’ over ‘L’]
40c • [sic]
ther their • therir [‘i’ over ‘r’]
the simply • [‘sim’ over ‘the’]
No,—M no • [dash over comma; ‘M’ partly formed]
bivuac • [sic]
