MARK TWAIN’S DAILY DIARY. THIS WITTIEST AUTOBIOGRAPHY EVER WRITTEN. Mark Twain began bis autobiography many yoars ago, and adds to it day by day. Already it runs to a quarter of a million words. Originally it' was intended only for publication after liis death, but, after passing “Pier No. 70” lie concluded to make some of it public, and it is now running serially through the North American Review. Here is a charming story of how Mark Twain and his newly-married wife set up housekeeping in Buffalo, where ho was to bo an editor of the Buffalo Express:— “I know nothing about Buffalo, but I had mndo my household arrangements through a friend by letter. I had instructed him to find a boardinghouse Vf as respectable a character as my light salary as editor would command. We were received at about nine o’clock at the station in Buffalo, and woro put into several sleigbs and driven all over America, as it seemed to mo—for, apparently, wo turned all the corners in the town and followed all the streets there were—l scolding freely, nnd characterising that friend of mine in very un"omplimentary words tor securing a boarding-house that had apparently no definite locality. But thero was a conspiracy—and my bride know it, but I was in ignorance. Her father, Jervis Langdon, had bought and furnished a new house for us in the fashionable street, Delaware Avenue, and had laid in a cook and housemaids, and a brisk and electric young ocachman, an Irishman, Patrick McAleer; and we were being driven all over that city in order kthat one sloighful of those people could have time to go to the house, and see that file gas was lighted all over it, and a hot supper prepared for the crowd. We arrived at last, nnd when I entered that fairy place my indignation reached high-water mark, and without any reserve I delivered my opinion to that friend of mine for being so stupid as to put us into a board-ing-house whose terms would be farout of my reach. Then Mr. Langdon brought forward a very pretty box and opened if, and took from it a deed of the house. So the comedy ended very pleasantly, and we sat down to supper.” Of bis little daughter Susan, who was born in 1872, and passed from life in 189 C, Mark Twain tolls many stories:—
“Once, when Susy was seven, she sat breathlessly absorbed in watching a guest of ours adorn herself for a ball. The lady was charmed by this homage, this mute and gentle admiration, and was happy in it. And when her pretty labors wore finished, and she stood at last perfect, unimprovable, clothed like Solomon in all his glory, she paused confident and expectant, to receive from Susy’s tongue the tribute that was burning in her eyes. Susy drew an envious little sigh and said: “ ‘I wish I could have crooked troth and spectacles 1” “Once, when Susy was six months along in her eighth year, she did something one day in the presence of company which subjected her to criticism and reproof. Afterwards, when she was alone with her mother, as was her custom, she reflected a little while over the matter. Then she set: up what I think—and what the shade of Burns would think—was a quite good philosophical defence. “ ‘Well, mamma, you know I didn’t see myself, and so I couldn’t know how it looked.’ ” Susan began to write a biography of her father in the year ISBS, when her father was in his fiftieth year, and she was entering her fourteenth. She was a “frank biographer,” says Mark Twain, “and an honest one; she uses no sandpaper on mo.” Here is her description- of her father:—
‘Tap’s appearance lias been described many times, but very incor--ectly. Ho lias beautiful grey bail - , not. any too thick or any too long, but- just right ; a Homan nose, which greatly improves the beauty of his features; kind blue eyes ami a small moustache. He has a wonderfully shaded hea dand profile. Ho lias a very good figure.—in short, he is an extraordinarily fine-looking man. All bis features are perfect, except that ho hasn’t extraordinary teeth. jfis complexion is very fair, and he doesn’t wear a beard. Ho is a very good man, and a very funny one. He lias got a temper, but. we all of us have in this family. He. is the. loveliest man I over saw or ever hope to see —and oh, so absent-minded. Ho does tell perfectly delightful stories. Clare and I used to sit on each arm of his chair and listen while he told Stories about the pictures on the wall.” And here is a careful record of one of the father’s good things;— “Papa uses very strong language, hut I have ap idpa not nearly so strong as when he first married mamma. Alady acquaintance of his is rather apt to interrupt what one is saying, and papa told mamma that he thought lie should say to the lady’s husband, ‘I am glad your wife wasn’t present when tlie Deity said “Let there he light.” ’ “It is as I have said before (comments Mark Twain). This is a frank historian. She doesn’t cover up one's deficiencies, but gives them an equal showing with one’s handsomer qualities. Of course I made the remark which she has quoted—and even at this distant day I am still as much as half-persuaded that if that lady had been present when the Creator said ‘Let there be light,’ she would have interrupted Him and wc shouldn’t over have got it.”
Commenting on the native land proposals the llawke’s Buy Herald stales:—Wo do not think that this scheme, simple as it may appear ,will ;vork in practice. It indicates that it has been devised by some one unfamiliar with tlio actual condition of native holdings. In many blocks the dlares arc unequal, and some natives arc amply provider] lav, while others are not. Some natives, again, have holdings in many blocks, while others, less favored, are only shareholders in ■i few. It will ho impossible, therefore, for the commission to proceed by hapus. But the great difficulty lies in the fact that various authorities will have diffeient ideas about Hie amount of land required for the use of each native. At present we may take it that there are four or five millions of acres of native land not occupied by natives. Are wo to assume that this is not required for their use? We imagine that Air. Vgata would enter on emphatic protest against such a notion. Mr. Hone Tfekc the other day declared that there was very little native land which would not he required for their own use. How are we to decide this matter? Surely Parliament is not going to delegate its authority hi so important a question to two or three commissioners, however able. As wo have often pointed out, the question is one of policy —arc we to attempt the conversion of the Maori into a kind of second rate pnkehn, or are we to leave him to live his life in his own way? Mr. Ngata and Air. Hoke are not representative Maoris, and, however admirable their ideals are, they are, we believe, far removed from the realm of matter of fact. There is 'another point tb he considered. Fifty years ago the native blocks were mostly covered with forest. or scrub. To tho native their only value was that- they furnished cover for the pigeon or the rat. The white man lias turned many of them into pasture, fenced them and mailed I them. He has brought the railroad and the steamship, and now land that was worth 5s or 10s an acre is worth as many pounds. The Maori has done nothing towards _ this result. The question then arises, Has tho Stale no interest in the unearned increment on these lands? Until these points are settled, no advance can be made in native land legislation, and they must bo settled, not by a commission, which indeed is hardly likely to be unanimous on such questions, but by the Ministry and by Parliament. DIGEST WHAT YOU EAT. The reason wliy any wholesome food is not properly digested is because the stomach lacks some important element of digestion. Some stomachs lack peptone, others are deficient in gastric juice or hydrochloric acid. The' one thing necessary in any case of poor digestion, is to supply those digestive elements which die stomach lacks, and nothing does this so thoroughly and safely as Dr. Sheldon’s Digestive Tabules.. They digest what you eat, thus giving the stomach a rest and assistance until it is restored to its normal action and vigor. For sale by A. W, J. Maun, Agent, Chemist,
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Gisborne Times, Volume XXV, Issue 1990, 28 January 1907, Page 1
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1,475Page 1 Advertisements Column 6 Gisborne Times, Volume XXV, Issue 1990, 28 January 1907, Page 1
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