One of the literary diversions of this time was a commentary on a delicious little book by Caroline B. Le Row—English as She Is Taught —being a compilation of genuine answers given to examination questions by pupils in our public schools. Mark Twain was amused by such definitions as: “Aborigines, system of mountains”; “Alias—a good man in the Bible”; “Ammonia—the food of the gods,” and so on down the alphabet.
Susy, in her biography, mentions that her father at this is time read to them a little article which he had just written, entitled “Luck,” and that they thought it very good. It was a story which Twichell had heard and told to Clemens, who set it down about as it came to him. It was supposed to be true, yet Clemens seemed to think it too improbable for literature and laid it away for a number of years. We shall hear of it again by and by.
From Susy’s memoranda we gather that humanity at this time was to be healed of all evils and sorrows through “mind cure.”
Papa has been very much interested of late in the “mind-cure” theory. And, in fact, so have we all. A young lady in town has worked wonders by using the “mind cure” upon people; she is constantly busy now curing peoples’ diseases in this way—and curing her own, even, which to me seems the most remarkable of all.
A little while past papa was delighted with the knowledge of what he thought the best way of curing a cold, which was by starving it. This starving did work beautifully, and freed him from a great many severe colds. Now he says it wasn’t the starving that helped his colds, but the trust in the starving, the “mind cure” connected with the starving.
I shouldn’t wonder if we finally became firm believers in “mind cure.” The next time papa has a cold I haven’t a doubt he will send for Miss Holden, the young lady who is doctoring in the “mind-cure” theory, to cure him of it.
Again, a month later, she writes:
April 19, 1886. Yes, the “mind cure” does seem to be working wonderfully. Papa, who has been using glasses now for more than a year, has laid them off entirely. And my near-sightedness is really getting better. It seems marvelous. When Jean has stomack-ache Clara and I have tried to divert her by telling her to lie on her side and try “mind cure.” The novelty of it has made her willing to try it, and then Clara and I would exclaim about how wonderful it was she was getting better. And she would think it realy was finally, and stop crying, to our delight.
The other day mama went into the library and found her lying on the sofa with her back toward the door. She said, “Why, Jean, what’s the matter? Don’t you feel well?” Jean said that she had a little stomack-ache, and so thought she would lie down. Mama said, “Why don’t you try ’mind cure’?” “I am,” Jean answered.
Howells and Twichell were invited to try the “mind