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can't have made any mistake this time. Miss Clara Spaulding looked in, a
moment, yesterday morning, as bright and good as ever. She would like to
lay her love at your feet if she knew I was writing--as would also fifty
friends of ours whom you have never seen, and whose homage is as fervent
as if the cold and clouds and darkness of a mighty sea did not lie
between their hearts and you. Poor old Rab had not many "friends" at
first, but if all his friends of today could gather to his grave from
the four corners of the earth what a procession there would be! And
Rab's friends are your friends.
I am going to work when we get on the hill-till then I've got to lie
fallow, albeit against my will. We join in love to you and yours.
Your friend ever,
SAML. L. CLEMENS.
P. S. I enclose a specimen of villainy. A man pretends to be my brother
and my lecture agent--gathers a great audience together in a city more
than a thousand miles from here, and then pockets the money and elopes,
leaving the audience to wait for the imaginary lecturer! I am after him
with the law.
It was a historic summer at the Farm. A new baby arrived in June; a
new study was built for Mark Twain by Mrs. Crane, on the hillside
near the old quarry; a new book was begun in it--The Adventures of
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