The Letters Of Mark Twain, Complete


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the water which she had drawn from the well, it is evidence--it is  
almost proof--that your words were not as clear as they should have  
been. True, it is only a trifling thing; but so is mist on a mirror. I  
would have hung the pail on Ariadne's arm. You did not deceive me when  
you said that she carried it under her arm, for I knew she didn't; still  
it was not your right to mar my enjoyment of the graceful picture. If  
the pail had been a portfolio, I wouldn't be making these remarks. The  
engraver of a fine picture revises, and revises, and revises--and then  
revises, and revises, and revises; and then repeats. And always  
the charm of that picture grows, under his hand. It was good enough  
before--told its story, and was beautiful. True: and a lovely girl is  
lovely, with freckles; but she isn't at her level best with them.  
This is not hypercriticism; you have had training enough to know that.  
So much concerning exactness of statement. In that other not-small  
matter--selection of the exact single word--you are hard to catch.  
Still, I should hold that Mrs. Walker considered that there was no  
occasion for concealment; that "motive" implied a deeper mental search  
than she expended on the matter; that it doesn't reflect the attitude of  
her mind with precision. Is this hypercriticism? I shan't dispute it.  
I only say, that if Mrs. Walker didn't go so far as to have a motive,  
I had to suggest that when a word is so near the right one that a body  
can't quite tell whether it is or isn't, it's good politics to strike it  
out and go for the Thesaurus. That's all. Motive may stand; but you have  
allowed a snake to scream, and I will not concede that that was the best  
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