The Letters Of Mark Twain, Complete


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lack of attractions up there. Mrs. Thayer and I were shipmates in a wild  
excursion perilously near 40 years ago.  
You say you "send with this" the story. Then it should be here but it  
isn't, when I send a thing with another thing, the other thing goes but  
the thing doesn't, I find it later--still on the premises. Will you look  
it up now and send it?  
Aldrich was here half an hour ago, like a breeze from over the fields,  
with the fragrance still upon his spirit. I am tired of waiting for that  
man to get old.  
Sincerely yours,  
S. L. C.  
Mark Twain was in his seventieth year, old neither in mind nor body,  
but willing to take life more quietly, to refrain from travel and  
gay events. A sort of pioneers' reunion was to be held on the  
Pacific Coast, and a letter from Robert Fulton, of Reno, Nevada,  
invited Clemens to attend. He did not go, but he sent a letter that  
we may believe was the next best thing to those who heard it read.  
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