cure,” as were all other friends who happened along.  To the end of his days Clemens would always have some panacea to offer to allay human distress.  It was a good trait, when all is said, for it had its root in his humanity.  The “mind cure” did not provide all the substance of things hoped for, though he always allowed for it a wide efficacy.  Once, in later years, commenting on Susy’s record, he said: 

The mind cannot heal broken bones, and doubtless there are many other physical ills which it cannot heal, but it can greatly help to modify the severities of all of them without exception, and there are mental and nervous ailments which it can wholly heal without the help of physician or surgeon.

Susy records another burning interest of this time: 

Clara sprained her ankle a little while ago by running into a tree when coasting, and while she was unable to walk with it she played solotaire with cards a great deal.  While Clara was sick and papa saw her play solotaire so much he got very much interested in the game, and finally began to play it himself a little; then Jean took it up, and at last mama even played it occasionally; Jean’s and papa’s love for it rapidly increased, and now Jean brings the cards every night to the table and papa and mama help her play, and before dinner is at an end papa has gotten a separate pack of cards and is playing alone, with great interest.  Mama and Clara next are made subject to the contagious solotaire, and there are four solotarireans at the table, while you hear nothing but “Fill up the place,” etc.  It is dreadful!

But a little further along Susy presents her chief subject more seriously.  He is not altogether absorbed with “mind cure” and solitaire, or even with making humorous tales.

Papa has done a great deal in his life I think that is good and very remarkable, but I think if he had had the advantages with which he could have developed the gifts which he has made no use of in writing his books, or in any other way, for peoples’ pleasure and benefit outside of his own family and intimate friends, he could have done more than he has, and a great deal more, even.  He is known to the public as a humorist, but he has much more in him that is earnest than that is humorous.  He has a keen sense of the ludicrous, notices funny stories and incidents, knows how to tell them, to improve upon them, and does not forget them.

And again: 

When we are all alone at home nine times out of ten he talks about some very earnest subject (with an occasional joke thrown in), and he a good deal more often talks upon such subjects than upon the other kind.

He is as much of a philosopher as anything, I think.  I think he could have done a great deal in this direction if he had studied while young, for he seems to enjoy reasoning out things, no matter what; in a great many such directions he has greater ability than in the gifts which have made him famous.

It was with the keen eyes and just mind of childhood that Susy estimated, and there is little to add to her valuation.