The river, of course, was the great highway.  Rafts drifted by; steamboats passed up and down and gave communication to the outside world; St. Louis, the metropolis, was only one hundred miles away.  Hannibal was inclined to rank itself as of next importance, and took on airs accordingly.  It had society, too—­all kinds—­from the negroes and the town drunkards ("General” Gaines and Jimmy Finn; later, Old Ben Blankenship) up through several nondescript grades of mechanics and tradesmen to the professional men of the community, who wore tall hats, ruffled shirt-fronts, and swallow-tail coats, usually of some positive color-blue, snuff-brown, and green.  These and their families constituted the true aristocracy of the Southern town.  Most of them had pleasant homes—­brick or large frame mansions, with colonnaded entrances, after the manner of all Southern architecture of that period, which had an undoubted Greek root, because of certain drawing-books, it is said, accessible to the builders of those days.  Most of them, also, had means —­slaves and land which yielded an income in addition to their professional earnings.  They lived in such style as was considered fitting to their rank, and had such comforts as were then obtainable.

It was to this grade of society that judge Clemens and his family belonged, but his means no longer enabled him to provide either the comforts or the ostentation of his class.  He settled his family and belongings in a portion of a house on Hill Street—­the Pavey Hotel; his merchandise he established modestly on Main Street, with Orion, in a new suit of clothes, as clerk.  Possibly the clothes gave Orion a renewed ambition for mercantile life, but this waned.  Business did not begin actively, and he was presently dreaming and reading away the time.  A little later he became a printer’s apprentice, in the office of the Hannibal Journal, at his father’s suggestion.

Orion Clemens perhaps deserves a special word here.  He was to be much associated with his more famous brother for many years, and his personality as boy and man is worth at least a casual consideration.  He was fifteen now, and had developed characteristics which in a greater or less degree were to go with him through life.  Of a kindly, loving disposition, like all of the Clemens children, quick of temper, but always contrite, or forgiving, he was never without the fond regard of those who knew him best.  His weaknesses were manifold, but, on the whole, of a negative kind.  Honorable and truthful, he had no tendency to bad habits or unworthy pursuits; indeed, he had no positive traits of any sort.  That was his chief misfortune.  Full of whims and fancies, unstable, indeterminate, he was swayed by every passing emotion and influence.  Daily he laid out a new course of study and achievement, only to fling it aside because of some chance remark or printed paragraph or bit of advice that ran contrary to his purpose.  Such a life is bound to be a succession of extremes—­alternate periods of supreme exaltation and despair.  In his autobiographical chapters, already mentioned, Orion sets down every impulse and emotion and failure with that faithful humility which won him always the respect, if not always the approval, of men.