Springfield, Dec. 14.
Livy my peerless, I had a packed house in New Britain last night, & although I forgot & left out [al ] l considerable portion of the lecture the audience were none the wiser, & the talk discourse was plenty long enough. The other night at Meriden I struck upon an entirely new manner of telling a favorite anecdote of mine,1—& now, without altering a single word, it shortly becomes so absurd that I have to laugh, myself. Last night I got to one particular point in it 3 different times before I could get by it & go on. Every time I lifted my hand aloft & took up the thread of the narrative in the same old place the audience exploded again & so did [I. But ]I got through at last, & it was very funny. This teaches me that a man might tell that Jumping Frog story fifty times without learning how to tell it—but between you & I, privately, Livy dear, it is the best humorous sketch America has produced, yet, & I must read it [ p ]in public some day, in order that people may know what there is in it.2
I lay abed till 11 this morning, for I found that sleeping beside an open window had given me a cold in the head.
And honey, I had such a vivid, vivid dream! I thought you had discarded me, & that you avoided me so carefully that for several days although we were under the same roof & [I] often caught momentary glimpses of you or your dress, I could not get speech with you. And to add to my misery, I always had a glimpse of a rival when I had one of you. He was always with you, & I seemed to understand that he was an old rejected lover of yours (but not W.,)3 who had patiently waited, knowing that he could regain his place in your love if he could but get with you in my absence. Once I thought I was going to catch you alone, for I saw you hasten into a private room. I ran to it, but only to see you with glad face & beaming eyes throw yourself into a seat close to that hated rival—whose perfectly imbecile face I then saw for the first time, & from that moment merely despised instead of hating him.
Well, that very afternoon I caught you alone for a few moments, & ah, you‸rs‸ [ were was ]the saddest, saddest face that ever was. But you were in the toils of that man & could not escape. Your face said that there was no more true happiness for you on earth—nothing but a feverish fascination, & then a vapid, vacant existence, then Death. It broke my heart to see this fearful thing in the darling old face I was still worshipping. I pleaded with you—supplicated you—beseeched you—but you put me gently aside, & said you knew you were drifting to certain wreck, but it could not be helped—it was too late—if [ tha this ]man had only been kept out of the way but a month or two longer you ‸all‸ would have been well—but henceforth you & I must travel different paths in life, & from this moment these paths must diverge & never come together any more [forever. You ] would think of a You would “think of me sometimes, & hold me in regard as an esteemed acquaintance‸.”‸ , as a pleasant humorist.” I [siezed ]your hand, & said, “O, Livy, I loved you with such infinite tenderness!”
Then the tears sprang to your eyes & you threw your arms about my neck. —but on But only for an instant. Then you sprang up & said “No!—it is over for all time!” And you fled away & left me prostrate upon the floor.
Livy, for an hour after I awoke, this morning (but had not yet opened my eyes,) I lay in unspeakable misery, grieving over my sad mischance & going patiently over each incident & each circumstance vainly trying to discover how the awful calamity had been brought upon me. And such exquisite suffering it was! And how perfectly matchless seemed the gem I had lost! And I comprehended that in losing you the very universe had gone from me & black chaos was come again.
And then I opened my eyes. The apartment was strange to me! Presently it flashed upon me—it was only a hideous dream! God knows that the bliss, the ecstasy of that moment falls to a man’s lot no second time in the long span of his human life. You mine again—my own, my darling—& I so longed to put my arms about you & feel & know that the ghastly dream was gone forever. I want no more such dreams, my Livy.
I shall be in Warren4 tonight & in Boston to-morrow.
Peace & happiness & all contentment abide with you, my precious darling.
Sam. 5
Explanatory Notes | Textual Commentary
“Mark Twain” appeared twice during the evening
and read, “The Jumping Frog of Calaveras
County,” and, also, the chapter on European Guides from
“The Innocents Abroad,” in both of which he
gave the audience a touch of originality that was pronounced
decidedly refreshing. His style of elocution is peculiarly his own,
and the manner in which he delineated the humor of his sketches was
irresistably funny. The audience was kept in the best possible humor
during his recitations, and at the end called loudly for a
repetition by Mark, who coolly informed the assemblage that his
“contract” had been fulfilled, etc., etc.,
therefore no encore was obtained.
(“The Readings Last Evening,” Buffalo Express, 16 Mar 70, 4)
Source text(s):
Previous publication:
L3, 423–425; MFMT, 46, excerpt with omissions; LLMT, 41, 360, excerpt and brief paraphrase.
Provenance:see Samossoud Collection, p. 586.
Emendations and textual notes:
al • [‘l’ partly formed]
I. But • I.—|But
p • [partly formed]
were was • wereas
tha this • thais
forever. You • forever.— | You
siezed • [sic]