21 and 22 January 1869 • Norwalk, Ohio (MS: CU-MARK, UCCL 00237)
I wrote you last night from Toledo, & naturally feel an impulse to visit with you to-night again, although I do not know that I really have anything to say, except that I love you, Livy; & it seems to me that I have said that before. But then I keep on loving you, you little marvel of creation, & so I cannot well keep from thinking about it & saying it. If I only devoted half as much thought to any other noble study, I Ⓐemendation would soon become one of the wisest men on earth. I dreamed about you last night, & thought I was asleep on the sofa & you came & kissed my forehead—I wish you would repeat it tonight. And night before last I dreamed I was riding on the cow-catcher of an engine, & you came & ordered me to get off it, & I obeyed. You did perfectly right—in fact I love to believe that you are always right, Livy—except that every time you write me some pleasant chat about yourself, & show me your heart unwittingly, & give me a morsel of that affection which I so hunger for, you always say it is nonsense, & half threaten to scratch it out. You are good & honest when I am with you, & don’t mind my knowing that you love me, but then you go & get frightened & half angry at yourself when you betray it in your letters—& that is very, very naughty, Livy. Why, I would keep your secret, dear—you needn’t be afraid to trust me. If you were only here to-night, what a cosy visit we could have—for I have a fine large room parlo parlor in this hotel, & it is handsomely furnished & a cheerful fire is burning, & we would never be disturbed. And I would tell you all the pleasant things I know, & you shouldn’t go to bed till about day after to-morrow. It would be delightful. And I would drive away all your little haunting doubts & misgivings, & convince you that when we are married we shall be as happy, as kings—unpretending, substantial members of society, with no fuss or show or nonsense about us, but with healthful, wholesome duties to perform, & with an abundance of love in our hearts to make them pleasures—& so developing all of good & worthy that is in our natures, walk serenely down the grand avenues of Time, never sorrowing to see the drifting years dropping away one by one to join the buried ages, but glad to know that each passing year left its welcome sign that we were drawing nearer & nearer to that home of rest & peace where we shall know & love each other through all the vague tremendous centuries of eternity.
I feel encouraged to hope that at some time between the 1st & 13th of February I may see you, Livy; & I do pray that it may be so. Every dragging day seems an age to me when I am not with you, & when I am with you the perverse hours flash away like hurrying minutes. I came so near going straight to Elmira from Chicago the other day! I could have spent twenty-four hours with you—from Monday evening till Tuesday evening—but the long trip thither & the long trip back to Toledo would have about finished me & left me unfit to attack Nasby’s fellow citizens, & I wanted to be in good condition there. That was one consideration—another was that that visit would have been unexpected & therefore a surprise, & you know surprises don’t always strike are not always enthusiastically received. Taking Ⓐemendation all things into consideration, t Ⓐemendation I thought it better to rob myself of that one day’s happiness. But I may have been a little mistaken,—for I would have arrived in tolerably good time to persuade Ⓐemendation & cheer you out of the distress & dispondency Ⓐemendation those California letters plunged you into—although on Saturday you were already feeling more restful & satisfied again. But I am so tortured with the dread that you have been in pain., & low-spirited again since then, Livy darling—please say it is not so, if you can, Livy. O, be happy always!—you do not deserve to feel one pang of this world’s ills, no taint or touch of its desolating sorrows. And I am the cause of all the distress you have suffered for many weeks. This thought comes down upon me with a heavy hand—it hurts me more than any other. For Livy, we would give pleasure, always, to those we love, not pain. And that you, my brave, true, darling girl, should suffer through me, saddens many a moment for me during these past two days. Send me those California letters, please, Livy—let me see what it is. As you say, Livy, Ⓐemendation those things are of the past,—& Ⓐemendation with a brave love that has the true ring, you stand by me now with a loyalty that makes me unspeakably proud of you—but I have a curiosity to know which of those friends has been man enough to come out frankly & worthily & tell the truth, & which have has Ⓐemendation basely shirked the duty—I would know which to respect & which to despise.
Livy, don’t worry with the ferrotype any more, but do something which I wanted to ask you to do when I was there last, but lacked the courage—& that is (now you will, won’t you Livy?) let me have that porcelaintype Ⓐemendation of yours?1explanatory note Do, please, please, please, Livy, & you will make me as happy as a lord. Do, Livy, & I’ll just do anything you say. I know all about that picture—& what an idiot I was for not persuading you to let me have it when I was there. And Livy, dear, you have got a guilty conscience, & you know it, about that porcelaintype—for you half suspected, that day, that I knew of its existence, but thinking maybe I didn’t, you let it remain a secret—kept a secret from me, Livy, & you know you oughtn’t to have done it. You ought not to have secrets from me, dear. You ought to have mentioned the porcelaintype, & said “Take it.” Now, Livy—my own dear Livy—my precious, peerless Livy—my revered, my honored Livy—please give me that picture. I want it all the more because you never would give it to anybody else. You give away photographs to especial friends, but you ha hide Ⓐemendation that away from all eyes, & refuse to give it to any one—& therefore, Livy dear, that it is Ⓐemendation the very reason I want it. Now won’t you, Livy, please? I love you with all my heart, Livy—& I want that picture so much Ⓐemendation. Now, won’t you, Livy? I kiss you my thanks, my darling—because I just know you are saying yes.
And now it is ten minutes after midnight, & so it is time for you to go to bed. Don’t stand on ceremony, & don’t stop to argue the question, but just trot along move right along,—I’ll carry you up stairs myself.
And my bedtime having arrived also, I will pray, as co customary Ⓐemendation, for light & guidance, for faith & love, for patience & strength—praying also, that the peace of God may rest in your heart & His Spirit compass you about, shielding you from all harm.
docketed by OLL: 31st
A ferrotype (or tintype) was a positive photograph produced by the standard wet collodion process on a sheet of enameled (usually black) iron or tin. A porcelaintype—like the one Clemens had coveted on 17–18 December 1868—was a photograph reproduced on porcelain, usually by direct transfer (Jones, 240, 426; L2 , 348).
MS, Mark Twain Papers, The Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley (CU-MARK).
L3 , 58–60; LLMT , 357, brief paraphrase.
see Samossoud Collection, p. 586.
More information on provenance may be found in Description of Provenanceclick to open link.