7 August 1884 • Elmira, N.Y. (MS, in pencil: MH-H, UCCL 01537)
I have no doubt I am doing a most criminal & outrageous thing—for I am sending you these infernal Huck Finn proofs—but the very last vestige of my patience has gone to the devil, & I cannot bear the sight of another slip of them. My hair turns white with rage, at sight of the mere outside of the package; & this time I didn’t even try to glance inside it, but re-enveloped it at once, & directed it to you. Now you’re not to read it unless you really don’t mind it—you’re only to re-ship it to Webster & tell him, from me, to read the remnant of the book himself, & send no more slips to me meⒶemendation , . under any circumstances. Will you?
Blackguard me if you want to—I deserve it.
P. S. Come, brace up, now, & prepare yourself for criticism. You know Miss Wolcott. Well, she & Mrs. Gleason came up from the Water Cure at eventide, & Miss W. got to talking about peculiar people ◊◊◊ in that museum of invalids down there, & finally quoted this remark from a woman patient who sets herself up for a 4,000-candle-power intellectual light:
“Wal, I like Shakspeare, & I reckon I can go so far as to say there’s none that likes him better or appreciates him higher than what I do; but as for James, & Howells & Walt Whitman & Swinburne, they’re all alike—when you’ve read one, you’ve read ’em all!”
Isn’t that uncreateable?—has to come natural, an edifice like that—can’t be planned & built by art. I contend that there was one more name in that list, but as all the household say no, I yield to the majority.
The daughter of Sam Medary (wasn’t that the name of that Columbus editor?) was here some time ago, & when this said young lady heard of you for the first time, from Miss Wolcott, she was deeply gratified to know that Col her native town had produced an author, & said she would get one of your books & read it if Miss Wolcott would furnish her the name of one.
Which reminds me that Gerhardt is here, making a bust of me, & the other day in New York he went into a place near Wallack’s, where there was a vast outlay of actressesⒶemendation photographs on sale, & asked for a photo of Mark Twain.
“What name did you say, ?” please?”
“Mark Twain.”
Reflective pause—struggle with memory. Then:
“Where does she play?”
MS, in pencil, MH-H.
MTHL, 2:497–99.
see Howells Letters in Description of Provenanceclick to open link.