The Letters Of Mark Twain, Complete


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business.  
We drove about the steep hills and narrow, crooked streets of this  
old town during three hours, yesterday, in a sleigh, in a driving  
snow-storm. The people here don't mind snow; they were all out, plodding  
around on their affairs--especially the children, who were wallowing  
around everywhere, like snow images, and having a mighty good time.  
I wish I could describe the winter costume of the young girls, but I  
can't. It is grave and simple, but graceful and pretty--the top of it is  
a brimless fur cap. Maybe it is the costume that makes pretty girls seem  
so monotonously plenty here. It was a kind of relief to strike a homely  
face occasionally.  
You descend into some of the streets by long, deep stairways; and in the  
strong moonlight, last night, these were very picturesque. I did wish  
you were here to see these things. You couldn't by any possibility sleep  
in these beds, though, or enjoy the food.  
Good night, sweetheart, and give my respects to the cubs.  
SAML.  
It had been hoped that W. D. Howells would join the Canadian  
excursion, but Howells was not very well that autumn. He wrote that  
he had been in bed five weeks, "most of the time recovering; so you  
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