The Letters Of Mark Twain, Complete


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Warner was in New York. I wrote him, and he said he would fetch up  
Ward--which he did. Yesterday they went to the Gerhardts and spent two  
hours, and Ward came away bewitched with those people and marveling  
at the winning innocence of the young wife, who dropped naturally into  
model-attitude beside the statue (which is stark naked from head to  
heel, now--G. had removed the drapery, fearing Ward would think he was  
afraid to try legs and hips) just as she has always done before.  
Livy and I had two long talks with Ward yesterday evening. He spoke  
strongly. He said, "if any stranger had told me that this apprentice did  
not model that thing from plaster casts, I would not have believed it."  
He said "it is full of crudities, but it is full of genius, too. It is  
such a statue as the man of average talent would achieve after two  
years training in the schools. And the boldness of the fellow, in going  
straight to nature! He is an apprentice--his work shows that, all over;  
but the stuff is in him, sure. Hartford must send him to Paris--two  
years; then if the promise holds good, keep him there three more--and  
warn him to study, study, work, work, and keep his name out of the  
papers, and neither ask for orders nor accept them when offered."  
Well, you see, that's all we wanted. After Ward was gone Livy came out  
with the thing that was in her mind. She said, "Go privately and start  
the Gerhardts off to Paris, and say nothing about it to any one else."  
So I tramped down this morning in the snow-storm--and there was a  
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