mark twain, a biography, 1900-1907-第42章

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make　more　than　thirty…one　counts；　and　usually；　before　this　number　was
reached；　he　would　miss　through　some　careless　play　or　get　himself　into　a
position　where　he　couldn't　play　at　all。　　The　thing　looked　absurdly　easy。　
It　looked　as　if　one　could　go　on　playing　all　day　long；　and　the　victim　was
usually　eager　to　bet　that　he　could　make　fifty　or　perhaps　a　hundred；　but
for　more　than　an　hour　I　tried　it　patiently；　and　seldom　succeeded　in
scoring　more　than　fifteen　or　twenty　without　missing。　　Long　after　the　play
itself　ceased　to　be　amusing　to　me；　he　insisted　on　my　going　on　and　trying
it　some　more；　and　he　would　throw　himself　back　and　roar　with　laughter；　the
tears　streaming　down　his　cheeks；　to　see　me　work　and　fume　and　fail。

It　was　very　soon　after　that　that　Peter　Dunne　（〃Mr。　Dooley〃）　came　down　for
luncheon；　and　after　several　games　of　the　usual　sort；　Clemens　quietlyas
if　the　idea　had　just　occurred　to　himrolled　out　the　twelve　balls　and
asked　Dunne　how；　many　caroms　he　thought　he　could　make　without　a　miss。　
Dunne　said　he　thought　he　could　make　a　thousand。　　Clemens　quite
indifferently　said　that　he　didn't　believe　he　could　make　fifty。　　Dunne
offered　to　bet　five　dollars　that　he　could；　and　the　wager　was　made。　　Dunne
scored　about　twenty…five　the　first　time　and　missed；　then　he　insisted　on
betting　five　dollars　again；　and　his　defeats　continued　until　Clemens　had
twenty…five　dollars　of　Dunne's　money；　and　Dunne　was　sweating　and
swearing；　and　Mark　Twain　rocking　with　delight。　　Dunne　went　away　still
unsatisfied；　promising　that　he　would　come　back　and　try　it　again。　　Perhaps
he　practised　in　his　absence；　for　when　he　returned　he　had　learned
something。　　He　won　his　twenty…five　dollars　back；　and　I　think　something
more　added。　　Mark　Twain　was　still　ahead；　for　Dunne　furnished　him　with　a
good　five　hundred　dollars'　worth　of　amusement。

Clemens　never　cared　to　talk　and　never　wished　to　be　talked　to　when　the
game　was　actually　in　progress。　　If　there　was　anything　to　be　said　on
either　side；　he　would　stop　and　rest　his　cue　on　the　floor；　or　sit　down　on
the　couch；　until　the　matter　was　concluded。　　Such　interruptions　happened
pretty　frequently；　and　many　of　the　bits　of　personal　comment　and　incident
scattered　along　through　this　work　are　the　result　of　those　brief　rests。　
Some　shot；　or　situation；　or　word　would　strike　back　through　the　past　and
awaken　a　note　long　silent；　and　I　generally　kept　a　pad　and　pencil　on　the
window…sill　with　the　score…sheet；　and　later；　during　his　play；　I　would
scrawl　some　reminder　that　would　be　precious　by　and　by。

On　one　of　these　I　find　a　memorandum　of　what　he　called　his　three　recurrent
dreams。　　All　of　us　have　such　things；　but　his　seem　worth　remembering。

〃There　is　never　a　month　passes；〃　he　said；　〃that　I　do　not　dream　of　being
in　reduced　circumstances；　and　obliged　to　go　back　to　the　river　to　earn　a
living。　　It　is　never　a　pleasant　dream；　either。　　I　love　to　think　about
those　days；　but　there's　always　something　sickening　about　the　thought　that
I　have　been　obliged　to　go　back　to　them；　and　usually　in　my　dream　I　am　just
about　to　start　into　a　black　shadow　without　being　able　to　tell　whether　it
is　Selma　bluff；　or　Hat　Island；　or　only　a　black　wall　of　night。

〃Another　dream　that　I　have　of　that　kind　is　being　compelled　to　go　back　to
the　lecture　platform。　　I　hate　that　dream　worse　than　the　other。　　In　it　I
am　always　getting　up　before　an　audience　with　nothing　to　say；　trying　to　be
funny；　trying　to　make　the　audience　laugh；　realizing　that　I　am　only　making
silly　jokes。　　Then　the　audience　realizes　it；　and　pretty　soon　they
commence　to　get　up　and　leave。　　That　dream　always　ends　by　my　standing
there　in　the　semidarkness　talking　to　an　empty　house。

〃My　other　dream　is　of　being　at　a　brilliant　gathering　in　my　night…
garments。　　People　don't　seem　to　notice　me　there　at　first；　and　then　pretty
soon　somebody　points　me　out；　and　they　all　begin　to　look　at　me
suspiciously；　and　I　can　see　that　they　are　wondering　who　I　am　and　why　I　am
there　in　that　costume。　　Then　it　occurs　to　me　that　I　can　fix　it　by　making
myself　known。　　I　take　hold　of　some　man　and　whisper　to　him；　'I　am　Mark
Twain'；　but　that　does　not　improve　it；　for　immediately　I　can　hear　him
whispering　to　the　others；　'He　says　he　is　Mark　Twain；'　and　they　all　look
at　me　a　good　deal　more　suspiciously　than　before；　and　I　can　see　that　they
don't　believe　it；　and　that　it　was　a　mistake　to　make　that　confession。　
Sometimes；　in　that　dream；　I　am　dressed　like　a　tramp　instead　of　being　in
my　night…clothes；　but　it　all　ends　about　the　samethey　go　away　and　leave
me　standing　there；　ashamed。　　I　generally　enjoy　my　dreams；　but　not　those
three；　and　they　are　the　ones　I　have　oftenest。〃

Quite　often　some　curious　episode　of　the　world's　history　would　flash　upon
himsomething　amusing；　or　coarse；　or　tragic；　and　he　would　bring　the　game
to　a　standstill　and　recount　it　with　wonderful　accuracy　as　to　date　and
circumstance。　　He　had　a　natural　passion　for　historic　events　and　a　gift
for　mentally　fixing　them；　but　his　memory　in　other　ways　was　seldom
reliable。　　He　was　likely　to　forget　the　names　even　of　those　he　knew　best
and　saw　oftenest；　and　the　small　details　of　life　seldom　registered　at　all。

He　had　his　breakfast　served　in　his　room；　and　once；　on　a　slip　of　paper；　he
wrote；　for　his　own　reminder：

The　accuracy　of　your　forgetfulness　is　absoluteit　seems　never　to　fail。　
I　prepare　to　pour　my　coffee　so　it　can　cool　while　I　shaveand　I　always
forget　to　pour　it。

Yet；　very　curiously；　he　would　sometimes　single　out　a　minute　detail；
something　every　one　else　had　overlooked；　and　days　or　even　weeks　afterward
would　recall　it　vividly；　and　not　always　at　an　opportune　moment。　　Perhaps
this　also　was　a　part　of　his　old　pilot…training。　　Once　Clara　Clemens
remarked：

〃It　always　amazes　me　the　things　that　father　does　and　does　not　remember。　
Some　little　trifle　that　nobody　else　would　notice；　and　you　are　hoping　that
he　didn't；　will　suddenly　come　back　to　him　just　when　you　least　expect　it
or　care　for　it。〃

My　note…book　contains　the　entry：

　　　　　February　11；　1907。　　He　said　to…day：

　　　　　〃A　blindfolded　chess…player　can　remember　every　play　and　discuss　the
　　　　　game　afterward；　while　we　can't　remember　from　one　shot　to　the　next。〃

　　　　　I　mentioned　his　old　pilot…memory　as　an　example　of　what　he　could　do
　　　　　if　he　wished。

　　　　　〃Yes；〃　he　answered；　〃those　are　special　memories；　a　pilot　will　tell
　　　　　you　the　number　of　feet　in　every　crossing　at　any　time；　but　he　can't
　　　　　remember　what　he　had　for　breakfast。〃

　　　　　〃How　long　did　you　keep　your　pilot…memory？〃　I　asked。

　　　　　〃Not　long；　it　faded　out　right　away；　but　the　training　served　me；　for
　　　　　when　I　went　to　report　on　a　paper　a　year　or　two　later　I　never　had　to
　　　　　make　any　notes。〃

　　　　　〃I　suppose　you　still　remember　some　of　the　river？〃

　　　　　〃Not　much。　　Hat　Island；　Helena　and　here　and　there　a　place；　but　that
　　　　　is　about　all。〃




CCLV

FURTHER　PERSONALITIES

Like　every　person　living；　Mark　Twain　had　some　peculiar　and　petty
economies。　　Such　things　in　great　men　are　noticeable。　　He　lived
extravagantly。　　His　household　expenses　at　the　time　amounted　to　more　than
fifty　dollars　a　day。　　In　the　matter　of　food；　the　choicest；　and　most
expensive　the　market　could　furnish　was　always　served　in　lavish　abundance。　
He　had　the　best　and　highest…priced　servants；　ample　as　to　number。　　His
clothes　he　bought　generously；　he　gave　without　stint　to　his　children；　his
gratuities　were　always　liberal。　　He　never　questioned　pecuniary　outgoes
seldom　worried　as　to　the　state　of　his　bank…account　so　long　as　there　was
plenty。　　He　smoked　cheap　cigars　because　he　preferred　their　flavor。　　Yet
he　had　his　economies。　　I　have　seen　him；　before　leaving　a　room；　go　around
and　carefully　lower　the　gas…jets；　to　provide　against　that　waste。　　I　have
known　him　to　examine　into　the　cost　of　a　cab；　and　object　to　an　apparent
overcharge　of　a　few　cents。

It　seemed　that　his　idea　of　economy　might　be　expressed　in　these　words：　He
abhorred　extortion　and　visible　waste。

Furthermore；　he　had　exact　ideas　as　to　ownership。　　One　evening；　while　we
were　playing　billiards；　I　noticed　a　five…cent　piece　on　the　floor。　　I
picked　it　up；　saying：

〃Here　is　five　cents；　I　don't　know　whose　it　is。〃

He　regarded　the　coin　rather　seriously；　I　thought；　and　said：

〃I　don't　know；　either。〃

I　laid　it　on　the　top　of　the　book…shelves　which　ran　around　the　room。　　The
play　went　on；　and　I　forgot　the　circumstance。　　When　the　game　ended　that
night　I　went　into　his　room　with　him；　as　usual；　for　a　good…night　word。　　As
he　took　his　change　and　keys　from　the　pocket　of　his　trousers；　he　looked
the　assortment　over　and　said：

〃That　five…cent　piece　you　found　was　mine。〃

I　brought　it　to　him　at　once；　and　he　took　it　solemnly；　laid　it　with　the
rest　of　his　change；　and　neither　of　us　referred　to　it　again。　　It　may　have
been　one　of　his　jokes；　but　I　think　it　more　likely　that　he　remembered
having　had　a　five…cent　piece；　probably　reserved　for　car　fare；　and　that　it
was　missing。

More　than　once；　in　Washington；　he　had　said：

〃Draw　plenty　of　money　for　incidental　expenses。　　Don't　bother　to　keep
account　of　them。〃

So　it　was　not　miserliness；　it　was　just　a　peculiarity；　a　curious　attention
to　a　trifling　detail。

He　had　a　fondness　for　riding　on　the　then　newly　completed　Subway；　which　he
called　the　Underground。　　Sometimes　he　would　say：

〃I'll　pay　your　fare　on　the　Underground　if　you　want　to　take　a　ride　with
me。〃　　And　he　always　insisted　on　paying　the　fare；　and　once　when　I　rode　far
up…town　with　him　to　a　place　where　he　was　going　to　luncheon；　and　had　taken
him　to　the　door；　he　turned　and　said；　gravely：

〃Here　is　five　cents　to　pay　your　way　home。〃　　And　I　took　it　in　the　same
spirit　in　which　it　had　been　offered。　　It　was　probably　this　trait　which
caused　some　one　occasionally　to　claim　that　Mark　Twain　was　close　in　money
matters。　　Perhaps　there　may　have　been　times　in　his　life　when　he　was
parsimonious；　but；　if　so；　I　must　believe　that　it　was　when　he　was　sorely
pressed　and　exercising　the　natural　instinct　of　self…preservation。　　He
wished　to　receive　the　full　value　（who　does　not？）　of　his　labors　and
properties。　　He　took　a　childish　delight　in　piling　up　money；　but　it　became
greed　only　when　he　believed　some　one　with　whom　he　had　dealings　was　trying
to　get　an　unfair　division　of　profits。　　Then　it　became　something　besides
greed。　　It　became　an　indignation　that　amounted　to　malevolence。　　I　was
concerned　in　a　number　of　dealings　with　Mark　Twain；　and　at　a　period　in　his
life　when　human　traits　are　supposed　to　become　exaggerated；　which　is　to
say　old　age；　and　if　he　had　any　natural　tendency　to　be　unfair；　or　small；
or　greedy　in　his　money　dealings　I　think　I　should　have　seen　it。　
Personally；　I　found　him　liberal　to　excess；　and　I　never　observed　in　him
anything　less　than　generosity　to　those　who　were　fair　with　him。

Once　that　winter；　when　a　letter　came　from　Steve　Gillis　saying　that　he　was
an　invalid　now；　and　would　have　plenty　of　tune　to　read　Sam's　books　if　he
owned　them；　Clemens　ordered　an　expensive　set　from　his　publishers；　and　did
what　meant　to　him　even　more　than　the　cost　in　moneyhe　autographed　each
of　those　twenty…five　volumes。　　Then　he　sent　them；　charges　paid；　to　that
far　Californian　retreat。　　It　was　hardly　the　act　of　a　stingy　man。

He　had　the　human　fondness　for　a　compliment　when　it　was　genuine　and　from