书城公版The Letters of Mark Twain Vol.1
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第227章

Often she is creditable, but sometimes she is just shocking.This one, a minute ago--19, fat-face, raspy voice, pert ways, the self-complacency of God; and with it all a silly laugh (embarrassed) which kept breaking out through her chatter all along, whereas there was no call for it, for she said nothing that was funny."Spose so many 've told y' how they 'njoyed y'r chapt'r on the Germ' tongue it's bringin' coals to Newcastle Kehe! say anything 'bout it Ke-hehe! Spent m' vacation 'n Russia, 'n saw Tolstoi; he said--" It made me shudder.

April 12.Jean has been in here with a copy of Literature, complaining that I am again behind you in the election of the 10 consecrated members;and seems troubled about it and not quite able to understand it.But Ihave explained to her that you are right there on the ground, inside the pool-booth, keeping game--and that that makes a large difference in these things.

13th.I have been to the Knustausstellung with Mrs.Clemens.The office of art seems to be to grovel in the dirt before Emperors and this and that and the other damned breed of priests.

Yrs ever MARK.

Howells and Clemens were corresponding regularly again, though not with the frequency of former years.Perhaps neither of them was bubbling over with things to say; perhaps it was becoming yearly less attractive to pick up a pen and write, and then, of course, there was always the discouragement of distance.Once Howells wrote: "I know this will find you in Austria before I can well turn round, but I must make believe you are in Kennebunkport before I can begin it." And in another letter: "It ought to be as pleasant to sit down and write to you as to sit down and talk to you, but it isn't.....The only reason why I write is that I want another letter from you, and because I have a whole afternoon for the job.

I have the whole of every afternoon, for I cannot work later than lunch.I am fagged by that time, and Sunday is the only day that brings unbearable leisure.I hope you will be in New York another winter; then I shall know what to do with these foretastes of eternity."Clemens usually wrote at considerable length, for he had a good deal to report of his life in the Austrian capital, now drawing to a close.

To W.D.Howells, in New York:

May 12, 1899.

DEAR HOWELLS,--7.15 p.m.Tea (for Mr.and Mrs.Tower, who are leaving for Russia) just over; nice people and rather creditable to the human race: Mr.and Mrs.Tower; the new Minister and his wife; the Secretary of Legation; the Naval (and Military) Attach; several English ladies; an Irish lady; a Scotch lady; a particularly nice young Austrian baron who wasn't invited but came and went supposing it was the usual thing and wondered at the unusually large gathering; two other Austrians and several Americans who were also in his fix; the old Baronin Langeman, the only Austrian invited; the rest were Americans.It made just a comfortable crowd in our parlor, with an overflow into Clara's through the folding doors.I don't enjoy teas, and am daily spared them by Mrs.

Clemens, but this was a pleasant one.I had only one accident.The old Baronin Langeman is a person I have a strong fondness for, for we violently disagree on some subjects and as violently agree on others--for instance, she is temperance and I am not: she has religious beliefs and feelings and I have none; (she's a Methodist!) she is a democrat and so am I; she is woman's rights and so am I; she is laborers' rights and approves trades unions and strikes, and that is me.And so on.After she was gone an English lady whom I greatly like, began to talk sharply against her for contributing money, time, labor, and public expression of favor to a strike that is on (for an 11-hour day) in the silk factories of Bohemia--and she caught me unprepared and betrayed me into over-warm argument.I am sorry: for she didn't know anything about the subject, and I did; and one should be gentle with the ignorant, for they are the chosen of God.

(The new Minister is a good man, but out of place.The Sec.of Legation is a good man, but out of place.The Attache is a good man, but out of place.Our government for displacement beats the new White Star ship;and her possible is 17,200 tons.)

May 13, 4 p.m.A beautiful English girl and her handsome English husband came up and spent the evening, and she certainly is a bird.

English parents--she was born and reared in Roumania and couldn't talk English till she was 8 or 10.She came up clothed like the sunset, and was a delight to look at.(Roumanian costume.).....

Twenty-four young people have gone out to the Semmering to-day (and to-morrow) and Mrs.Clemens and an English lady and old Leschetitzky and his wife have gone to chaperon them.They gave me a chance to go, but there are no snow mountains that I want to look at.Three hours out, three hours back, and sit up all night watching the young people dance; yelling conversationally and being yelled at, conversationally, by new acquaintances, through the deafening music, about how I like Vienna, and if it's my first visit, and how long we expect to stay, and did I see the foot-washing, and am I writing a book about Vienna, and so on.The terms seemed too severe.Snow mountains are too dear at the price....

For several years I have been intending to stop writing for print as soon as I could afford it.At last I can afford it, and have put the pot-boiler pen away.What I have been wanting is a chance to write a book without reserves--a book which should take account of no one's feelings, and no one's prejudices, opinions, beliefs, hopes, illusions, delusions;a book which should say my say, right out of my heart, in the plainest language and without a limitation of any sort.I judged that that would be an unimaginable luxury, heaven on earth.