The Boys' Life of Mark Twain

er, of staying there. His purpose was to earn money enough to take him to New York City. The railroad had by this time reached St. Louis, and he mean

a wonderful journey. All day he sat looking out of the window, eating when he chose from the food he carried, curling up in his s

cond Street and Sixth Avenue-the present site of Bryant Park. All the world's newest wonders were to be seen there-a dazzling exhibition. A fragment of the let

ountries represented, the lofty dome, glittering jewelry, gaudy tapestry, etc., with th

verything on exhibition, and I was only in a little over two hours to-night. I only glanced at about one-third of the articles; and, having a poor memory, I have enumerated scarcely a

atest wonder yet. Immense pipes are laid across the bed of the Harlem River, and pass through the country to Westchester County, where a whole river is turned from its course and brought to New York. Fro

he would be another boy entirely. Four times every day I walk a little over a mile; and working hard all day and walking four miles is exercise. I am used to it now, though, and

re I spend my evenings. Where would you suppose, with a free printers' library containing

e to Ella soo

your

AM

y a light so dim that you n

turned from its course to supply New York City with water; the water comes thirty-eight miles, and each family could use a hundred barrels a day! The letter reveals his personal side-his kindly interest in those left behind, his anxiety for Henry, his assurance that the promise to his mother was being kept, his memory of her longin

ssued by private banks-rather poor money, being generally at a discount and sometimes worth less. But if wages were low, living was cheap in those days, an

ummer of 1853, never expecting to remain long. His letters of that period were few. In October he said, in a letter to Pamela,

r the last two weeks," he adds, which sounds like the Mark Twain of fifty years later. Fa

e last act. . . the man's whole soul seems absorbed in the part he is playing; and it is real startling to see him. I am sorry I

arther alo

if you have a brother nearly eighteen years old who is not able to take care

cy for him to fill, he put in the time visiting the Philadelphia libraries, art galleries, and historic landmarks. After all, his chief business was sight-seeing. Work was only a means to this end. Chilly evenings, when he returne

eived with approval" was

se a line with a hook on it baited with a piece of red flannel. They never got tired of this joke, and Frog never failed to get figh

all amounts, but welcome. Once he inclosed a gold dollar, "to serve as a specimen of the kind of stuff

nt to, I can get subbing every night of the week. I go to work at seven in the evening and work till three the next morning. . . . The type

ough the iron railing of the locked inclosure. Probably it did not occur to him that there might be points of similarity between Franklin's career and his own. Yet in time these would be rather striking: each learned the printer's trade; each w

realized the value of his brother as a contributor, for Sam, in a letter to Orion, says, "I will try to write for the pape

and the first attack of homesickness was due. "One only has to leave home to learn how to write interesting l

e may guess there was a stronger reason, which perhaps he did not entirely realize. The novelt

for the "Ledger" and "North American." Eventually he went back to New York, and from there took ticket to St. Louis. This

stopped only long enough to see Pamela, then went aboard and, flinging himself into hi

ctures of the English rulers with the brief facts of their reigns. Sam Clemens entertained himself learning these data by heart. He had a fine memory for such things, and in an hour or two had those detai