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fly； nor all sweet and innocent and gentle like the lamb； nor all
murderous like the spider and the tiger and the wasp； nor all thieves
like the fox and the bluejay； nor all vain like the peacock； nor all
frisky like the monkey。 These things are all in him somewhere； and they
develop according to the proportion of each he received in his allotment：
We describe a man by his vicious traits and condemn him； or by his fine
traits and gifts； and praise him and accord him high merit for their
possession。 It is comical。 He did not invent these things； he did not
stock himself with them。 God conferred them upon him in the first
instant of creation。 They constitute the law； and he could not escape
obedience to the decree any more than Paige could have built the type…
setter he invented； or the Pratt & Whitney machinists could have invented
the machine which they built。〃
He liked to stride up and down； smoking as he talked； and generally his
words were slowly measured； with varying pauses between them。 He halted
in the midst of his march； and without a suggestion of a smile added：
〃What an amusing creature the human being is！〃
It is absolutely impossible； of course； to preserve the atmosphere and
personality of such talks as thisthe delicacies of his speech and
manner which carried an ineffable charm。 It was difficult； indeed； to
record the substance。 I did not know shorthand； and I should not have
taken notes at such times in any case； but I had trained myself in
similar work to preserve； with a fair degree of accuracy； the form of
phrase； and to some extent its wording； if I could get hold of pencil and
paper soon enough afterward。 In time I acquired a sort of phonographic
faculty； though it always seemed to me that the bouquet； the subtleness
of speech； was lacking in the result。 Sometimes； indeed； he would
dictate next morning the substance of these experimental reflections； or
I would find among his papers memoranda and fragmentary manuscripts where
he had set them down himself； either before or after he had tried them
verbally。 In these cases I have not hesitated to amend my notes where it
seemed to lend reality to his utterance； though； even so； there is always
lackingand must bethe wonder of his personality。
CCXLV
IN THE DAY'S ROUND
A number of dictations of this period were about Susy； her childhood； and
the biography she had written of him； most of which he included in his
chapters。 More than once after such dictations he reproached himself
bitterly for the misfortunes of his house。 He consoled himself a little
by saying that Susy had died at the right time； in the flower of youth
and happiness； but he blamed himself for the lack of those things which
might have made her childhood still more bright。 Once he spoke of the
biography she had begun； and added：
〃Oh； I wish I had paid more attention to that little girl's work！ If I
had only encouraged her now and then； what it would have meant to her；
and what a beautiful thing it would have been to have had her story of me
told in her own way； year after year！ If I had shown her that I cared；
she might have gone on with it。 We are always too busy for our children；
we never give them the time nor the interest they deserve。 We lavish
gifts upon them； but the most precious gift…our personal association；
which means so much to them…we give grudgingly and throw it away on those
who care for it so little。〃 Then； after a moment of silence： 〃But we are
repaid for it at last。 There comes a time when we want their company and
their interest。 We want it more than anything in the world； and we are
likely to be starved for it； just as they were starved so long ago。
There is no appreciation of my books that is so precious to me as
appreciation from my children。 Theirs is the praise we want； and the
praise we are least likely to get。〃
His moods of remorse seemed to overwhelm him at times。 He spoke of
Henry's death and little Langdon's； and charged himself with both。
He declared that for years he had filled Mrs。 Clemens's life with
privations； that the sorrow of Susy's death had hastened her own end。
How darkly he painted it！ One saw the jester； who for forty years had
been making the world laugh； performing always before a background of
tragedy。
But such moods were evanescent。 He was oftener gay than somber。 One
morning before we settled down to work he related with apparent joy how
he had made a failure of story…telling at a party the night before。 An
artist had told him a yarn； he said； which he had considered the most
amusing thing in the world。 But he had not been satisfied with it； and
had attempted to improve on it at the party。 He had told it with what he
considered the nicest elaboration of detail and artistic effect； and when
he had concluded and expected applause； only a sickening silence had
followed。
〃A crowd like that can make a good deal of silence when they combine；〃 he
said； 〃and it probably lasted as long as ten seconds； because it seemed
an hour and a half。 Then a lady said； with evident feeling； 'Lord； how
pathetic！' For a moment I was stupefied。 Then the fountains of my great
deeps were broken up； and I rained laughter for forty days and forty
nights during as much as three minutes。 By that time I realized it was
my fault。 I had overdone the thing。 I started in to deceive them with
elaborate burlesque pathos； in order to magnify the humorous explosion at
the end； but I had constructed such a fog of pathos that when I got to
the humor you couldn't find it。〃
He was likely to begin the morning with some such incident which perhaps
he did not think worth while to include in his dictations； and sometimes
he interrupted his dictations to relate something aside； or to outline
some plan or scheme which his thought had suggested。
Once； when he was telling of a magazine he had proposed to start； the
Back Number； which was； to contain reprints of exciting events from
historynewspaper gleaningseye…witness narrations； which he said never
lost their freshness of interesthe suddenly interrupted himself to
propose that we start such a magazine in the near futurehe to be its
publisher and I its editor。 I think I assented； and the dictation
proceeded； but the scheme disappeared permanently。
He usually had a number of clippings or slips among the many books on the
bed beside him from which he proposed to dictate each day； but he seldom
could find the one most needed。 Once； after a feverishly impatient
search for a few moments； he invited Miss Hobby to leave the room
temporarily； so； as he said； that he might swear。 He got up and we began
to explore the bed； his profanity increasing amazingly with each moment。
It was an enormously large bed； and he began to disparage the size of it。
〃One could lose a dog in this bed；〃 he declared。
Finally I suggested that he turn over the clipping which he had in his
hand。 He did so； and it proved to be the one he wanted。 Its discovery
was followed by a period of explosions； only half suppressed as to
volume。 Then he said：
〃There ought to be a room in this house to swear in。 It's da