I think it is not wise for an emperor, or a king, or a president, to come down into the boxing-ring, so to speak, and lower the dignity of hisⒶtextual note office by meddling in the small affairs of private citizens. I think it is not even discreet in a private citizen to come out in public and make a large noise, and by criticism and fault-finding try to cough down and injure another citizen whose trade he knowsⒶtextual note nothing valuable aboutⒺexplanatory note. It seems to me that natural history is a pretty poor thing to squabble about anyway, because it is not an exact science. What we know about it is built out of the careful or careless observations of students of animal nature, and no man can be accurate enough in his observations to safely pose as the last and unassailable authority in the matter—not even Aristotle, not even PlinyⒺexplanatory note, not even Sir John MandevilleⒺexplanatory note, not even Jonah, not even Theodore Roosevelt. All these professionals ought to stand ready to accept each other’s facts, closing one eye furtively now and then, perhaps, but keeping strictly quiet and saying nothing. The professional who disputes another professional’s facts damages the business and imperils his own statistics, there being no statistics connected with the business that are absolute and unassailable. The only wise and safe course is for all the naturalists to stand by each other and accept and endorse every discovery, or seeming discovery, that any one of them makes. Mr. Roosevelt is immeasurably indiscreet. He accepts as an established fact that the ravens fed ElijahⒺexplanatory note; it is then bad policy in him to question the surgical ability of Mr. Long’s bird. I accept the raven’s work, and admire it. I know the raven; I know him well; I know he has no disposition to share his food, inferior and overdue as it is, with prophets or presidents, or any one else—yet I feel that it would not be right nor judicious in me to question the validity of the hospitalities of those ravens while trying to market natural-history marvels of my own which are of a similar magnitude. I know of a turkey-hen that tried during several weeks to hatch out a porcelain egg, thenⒶtextual note the gobbler took the job and sat on that egg two entire summers and at last hatched it. He hatched out of it a doll’s tea-set of fourteen pieces, and all perfect, [begin page 68] except that the tea-potⒶtextual note had no spout, on account of the material running out. I know this to be true, of my own personal knowledge, and I do as Mr. Roosevelt and Mr. Burroughs and Jonah and Aristotle, and all the other naturalists do—that is to say, I merely make assertions and back them up with just my say-so, offering no other evidence of any kind. I personally know that that unusual thing happened; I knew the turkey; I furnished the egg, and I have got the crockery. It establishes, once and for all, the validity of Mr. Long’s statement about his bird—because it is twice as remarkable as that bird’s performance and yet it happened.Ⓐtextual note If I must speak plainly, I think it is rank folly for the President, or John Burroughs, or any other professional, to try to bear any other naturalist’s stock in the public market. It is all watered—I even regard some of my own discoveries in that light—and so it is but common prudence for those of us who got in on the ground floor to refrain from boring holes in it.

Something has brought to my mind a curious incident of our sojourn in Vienna, nine years ago. I lectured for one of the great charities one afternoon. At the front, in the seats of honor, sat several young members of the imperial familyⒺexplanatory note, and with them a grand duchess whose married title was the CountessⒶtextual note di BardiⒺexplanatory note. When I had finished my instructions Mrs. Clemens and I were introduced to this lady by a valued friend of ours whom I have already mentioned once or twice in this Autobiography, Madame LaszowskaⒶtextual note, wife of a lieutenant generalⒶtextual note Ⓔexplanatory note. A pleasant conversation in English followed, lasting perhaps a quarter of an hour, then we parted. We met the Lieutenant GeneralinⒶtextual note again that evening and asked her if we were under any responsibilities and obligationsⒶtextual note imposed by court etiquette. She said, yes, but that they were quite simple and unburdensome: we must call about noon next day, write our names in the Countess’s visiting-book, which we would find in a small office on the ground floor—that was all; then we could go peaceably about our business.

The Countess was sojourning at the time in the palace of another grand duchess of the imperial familyⒺexplanatory note. At noon next day we drove thither in a cab. We did not drive in, but stopped at the sidewalk abreast of the lofty arched doorway, and got out. A couple of soldiers with their muskets stood rigid and erect guarding that imposing entrance, with their backs against the masonry; also there was another guardian—the usual huge porter who in Vienna serves princes and such, and who is clothed from chapeau to heel in military splendors and bears a tall staff of office like that one which the drum-major of a regiment carries in front of the band. He approached us, bowing in the courtliest way, and conducted us through the great doorway, and was going to march us still further, but Mrs. Clemens was alarmed, and spoke to him. We had gone by the little office where our errand lay, and she explained, and said we merely wanted to write our names in the visitor’s book;Ⓐtextual note but the porter most politely informed her that we were expected up stairsⒶtextual note, and he tried to march us forward again. But Mrs. Clemens assured him that that could not be so, and almost begged him to let us do our modest errand and go away. But he insisted thatⒶtextual note we were expected; addingⒶtextual note that he had his orders, that it was his duty to produce us up stairsⒶtextual note, and that he must do it. Mrs. Clemens was getting badly worried, [begin page 69] and she assured him again that there was a mistake, and that it could not be possible that we were expected. He said—

“But madam, you are Americans?”

“Yes,” my wife replied.

“Then there is no mistake, madam. The Countess expects you. She commanded me to deliver you up stairsⒶtextual note, and beg you to wait for her, saying she was obliged to go out but would be back very soon.”

Mrs. Clemens pleaded again, and said there was unquestionably a mistake, and added—

“It is not us, it is some other Americans.”

But the vast creature was immovable; he had had his orders; it was his business to produce two Americans; he had got them, and evidently he was not going to trade Americans in the hand for Americans in the bush, and risk getting into trouble by it; all he needed was Americans; he had them, and evidently he was not going to take any chances. He moved forward, blazing the way with polite bows, and we followed, of course, realizing that his bulk and his two soldiers were arguments which had to be respected. At the foot of a grand staircase he delivered us into the custody of some powdered and silk-and-satinⒶtextual note and yellow-velveted footmen who were distributed along up and down the stairs, then made his bow and went back to his post to see if he could catch some more unprotected stragglers.Ⓐtextual note

Do you know that expression,Ⓐtextual note “what larks!”Ⓐtextual note Ⓔexplanatory note It describes what I was feeling as we climbed the stairs. No fine and high and noble act that I could have done could have given me so much pleasure, so much joy, so much frivolous delight, as I was getting out of this accidental and unstudied circumventing of those other Americans, who had done me no harm and had not earned the frosty reception they would get from the big porter when they should presently arrive. I imagined that spectacle and enlarged it, and inflated it, and put into it every detail that could make it charming and spectacular, even to getting them shot by the sentries. I wished I could haveⒶtextual note a sight of it, but of course I couldn’t. Mrs. Clemens’s state of mind was very different from mine; she was distressed and ashamed, and profoundly unhappy. By nature she was refined, and gentle, and kindly, and she could find no pleasure in the thought of the humiliation of those other Americans; moreover, she was distressed on her own account, and on mine, for she was aware that our situation was not a desirable one, and could presently furnish us considerable discomfort.

We were conducted through two or three great salons on the first floor (or what an American would call the second floor); in the second—or the third, whichever it was—the lackey begged us to be seated, and bowed himself out. Mrs. Clemens sat down and mourned; but the curious adventure had so charged me with happiness that I could not sit—I had to keep moving. The place was a treasure-house of rare and beautiful things, and I sauntered around exclaiming over them and saying,Ⓐtextual note time and again—

“Look at this, Livy,” and “look at that, Livy,” and “come and see this, Livy, you’ll never find its like again.”

[begin page 70] But she wouldn’t. She could not enjoy beautiful things when she was distressed. She said—

“How can you be so flippant when we are in such a serious situation? We can’t get out—you know that; we have to stay, there is no help for it; they can come home at any moment and find us here—then what can we say?”

“Why Livy, we don’t have to say anything; it is those other Americans that are in trouble; we are not out of luck; this is the delightfulestⒶtextual note thing that could ever happen; it is just like a play; it couldn’t be arranged better on the stage. You ought to be grateful; this couldn’t happen to you twice in a century; you ought to make the most you can of it now that Providence has thrown itⒶtextual note in our way. Livy, I wouldn’t have missed this romantic adventure for anything; think how unusual it is—how rare, how extraordinary, and how fortunate and charming is our end of it. You ought to mourn for those other Americans; they are the ones that are in hard luck. They will try to get by the big porter; he will head them off; they will plead and beg and rage and storm, and try to flank him, and they can’t succeed, of course; they can’t dodge around a continent like that—it isn’t such an easy matter. He will call the soldiers and they will charge bayonets on those Americans, and right at that crucial moment the grand duchesses will arrive, and at their order the soldiers and the porters will seize those Americans and throw them over their cab into the street. I would give a thousand dollars to see it, if I had it.”

But she said sorrowfully—

“Don’t talk so. It isn’t a trifling matter; it is a serious one, and most distressful. You tellⒶtextual note me to think of those other Americans. I do think of them; I can’t help thinking of them. We are putting shame upon them, a humiliation which they will remember all their lives, and they have not done us any harm, nor meditated any.”

I said—“Oh don’t be troubled, Livy, it is going to come out some way or other—I don’t know just how—but it is going to come out—don’t you fret. This is better than any play on any stage, because it was unpremeditated; it was not invented; it has happened its own self without anybody’s help, and there isn’t a dramatist alive that could improve on it. Try to enjoy it; it was not sent for our sorrow, but for our entertainment, and we ought in gratitude to get the most out of it that we can. If you will stand at that window I’ll stand at this one, and when they throw those Americans out——”

Just then the grand duchesses appeared at the head of the stairs, in the distance, and took up their line of march toward usⒺexplanatory note. We stood up, respectful in attitude, and waited. As soon as they had arrived within good speaking distance the Countess di Bardi exclaimed in English—

“Oh I am so sorry we had to keep you waiting, Mrs. Clemens;” and the other duchess said the equivalent of it in German.

It seemed too good to be true, and Mrs. Clemens had to reassure herself with the question—

“Was your Highness expecting us?”

“Why yes, we sent a note to your hotel inviting you. Didn’t you get it?”

The explanation was easy—to wit: we had missed the messenger, thereforeⒶtextual note we had [begin page 71] not come to pay a visit, but only to write our names in the visitor’s book according to the instructions of Madame Laszowska—and so when we arrived and found that we were rather evidently being mistaken for a couple of Americans who had had the honor of an invitation I was glad that we had gotten in ahead of those others and defeated them, but that Mrs. Clemens was sorry for them, I didn’t know why.

We remained half an hour and had a quite lively time; in fact one might properly describe it as even a jolly time. When we finally proposed to go we were asked to wait a little and see the children, because the children wanted to see us. They presently came, and they proved to be very entertaining and interesting little talkers. The eldest was a little lady of fourteen; the youngest was a handsome little lad of seven years. I felt a mighty respect for that little duke, for he was the son of that widely and justly honored and revered grand duke of the imperial house who had given his life to the study of diseases of the eyeⒺexplanatory note, and whose office doors were always open to the poor whose eyes needed his healing services. He charged nothing, yet his rewards were rich, for they were paid in gratitude.

By all rules we ought to have retired from the presence backward, but the grand duchesses were as kindlyⒶtextual note and as thoughtful in this matter as the EmperorⒶtextual note was to me on a later occasion: they went all the way to the head of the stairs with us, and thus spared us the necessity of attempting a mode of progress which we could not have essayed successfully and to our satisfaction, for lack of practice. After the good-byes one of the grand duchesses said—

“Mr. Clemens,Ⓐtextual note you will have to wait a moment. This boy has been devouring you with his eyes all the time, and I can see that he has been wanting to ask you a question, out of the deeps of his heart, and has been afraid to utter it. He has whispered it to me, and I have encouraged him to speak it out and not be afraid.”

And so, being thus encouraged, the little duke did speak it out, and eagerly, and with his heart in it. He said—

“Mr. Clemens,Ⓐtextual note did you ever see a real red Indian?”

I answered, with a justifiable feeling of pride and self-admirationⒶtextual note, that I had seen that kind of an Indian; and as we passed from the presence I saw by the light in that little duke’s eyes that in one person’s regard, at least, I was a hero for once in my life.