Elmira, May 20.
My Dear Clemens: ‸Seaver:‸
(That is the first time I have started to write a letter to myself for some time—I find simple soliloquizing easier, cheaper, quicker, & more uniformly satisfactory.)
Yes, but I do love you, still, but every time I am in New York it is only for a day & then I am encumbered with my tribe & can’t get a chance to visit. I ran down d alone, day before yesterday, on business, & expected to stay over & have a time with you & John Hay, but I got to the [ h ] Astor at 9. PM, & at midnight my business was completed—so I rushed for home long before you were up, in the morning.
I’m ever so much obliged to you for fixing up that thing for me—& if it don’t get into print I will curse other people, not you.1
Do you a “jokelet?” (Plainly this man is mad.) Can a person do jokelets when he is in labor with a book which it will take him 18 months to deliver himself of? However, if a jokelet should occur to me, & you would be willing to father it & hold me [freee ] from guilt, it is yours.
I hope to run through New York by & by, on my way to Hartford, leaving my tribe behind, & then I propose to assemble where there be refreshments, & tackle you.
Ys ever the same,
Samℓ L. Clemens.
Explanatory Notes | Textual Commentary
Source text(s):
Previous publication:
L6, 149–150.
Provenance:Norman D. Bassett, a Madison alumnus, owned the MS by October 1942. He
donated his Mark Twain collection to WU on 9 July 1955.
Emendations and textual notes:
h • [partly formed]
freee • [sic]