The twelfth—“Woman: The Pride of the
Professions, and the jewel of ours”—was re-
sponded to by Mr. Clemens, better known as
“Mark Twain.”

Mr. Twain remarked as follows:

Mr. President:2—“I do not know why I should
have been singled out to receive the greatest
distinction of the evening—for so the office of
replying to the toast to woman has been regard-
ed in every age. [Applause.] I do not [know]
why I have received this distinction, unless it
be that I am a trifle less homely than the other
members of the Club. But be this as it may,
Mr. President, I am proud of the position, and
you could not have chosen any one who would
have accepted it more gladly, or labored with a
heartier good-will to do the subject justice, than
I. Because, sir, I love the sex. [[Laughter.]]
I love all the women, sir, irrespective of age or
color. [Laughter.]

Human intelligence cannot estimate what [we]
owe to woman, sir. She sews on our [buttons,]
[laughter,] she mends our clothes, [[laughter,]
she] ropes us in at the church fairs—she [confides]
in us; she tells us whatever she can find [out]
about the little private affairs of the [neigh-]
bors—she gives us good advice—and plenty of
it—she gives us a piece of her mind, sometimes—
and sometimes all of it—she soothes our ach-
ing brows—she bears our children—ours as a
general thing. In all the relations of life, sir,
it is but just and a graceful tribute to woman to
say of her that she is a brick. [Great laugh-
[ter.]]

Wheresoever you place woman, sir—in what-
soever position or estate—she is an ornament to
that place she occupies, and a treasure to the
world. [Here Mr. Twain paused, looked in-
quiringly at his hearers and remarked that
the applause should come in at this point. It
came in. Mr. Twain resumed his eulogy.] Look
at the noble names of history! Look at Cleo-
patra!—look at Desdemona!—look at Florence
Nightingale!—look at Joan of Arc!—look at
Lucretia Borgia! [Disapprobation expressed.
“Well,” said Mr. Twain, scratching his head
doubtfully, “suppose we let Lucretia slide.”]
Look at Joyce Heth!3—look at Mother Eve!
[Cries of “Oh!” “Oh!”] You need not look at
her unless you want to, but, (said Mr. Twain
reflectively, after a pause,) Eve was ornamen-
tal, sir—particularly before the fashions
changed! I repeat, sir, look at the illustrious
names of history! Look at the Widow
Machree!4—look at Lucy Stone!—look at
Elizabeth Cady Stanton!—look at George
Francis Train!5 [Great laughter.] And,
sir, I say it with bowed head and deepest
veneration, look at the Mother of Washington!
she raised a boy that could not lie—could not lie—
[Applause.] But he never had any chance.
[Oh! Oh!] It might have been different with
him if he had belonged to a newspaper cor-
respondent’s club. [Laughter, groans, hisses,
cries of “put him out.” Mark looked around
placidly upon his excited audience and re-
sumed.]

I repeat, sir, that in whatsoever position you
place a woman she is an ornament to society
and a treasure to the world. As a sweetheart
she has few equals and no superiors—[laugh-
ter;]—as a cousin she is convenient; as a wealthy
grandmother, with an incurable distemper, she
is precious—as a wet nurse she has no equal
among men! [Laughter.]

What, sir, would the peoples of the earth
be, without woman? ........ They would
be scarce, sir—almighty scarce! Then let us
cherish her—let us protect her—let us give her
our support, our encouragement, our sympa-
thy—ourselves, if we get a chance. [Laughter.]

But, jesting aside, Mr. President, woman is
lovable, gracious, kind of heart, beautiful—
worthy of all respect, [all of] esteem, of all defer-
ence. Not any here will refuse to drink her
health right cordially in this bumper of wine,
for each and every one of us has personally
known, and loved, and honored, the very best
one of them all—his own mother! [Applause.]