HARTFORD AND BILLIARDS

Clemens was never much inclined to work, away from his Elmira study.  “Magnanimous Incident Literature” (for the Atlantic) was about his only completed work of the winter of 1877-78.  He was always tinkering with the “Visit to Heaven,” and after one reconstruction Howells suggested that he bring it out as a book, in England, with Dean Stanley’s indorsement, though this may have been only semi-serious counsel.  The story continued to lie in seclusion.

Clemens had one new book in the field—­a small book, but profitable.  Dan Slote’s firm issued for him the Mark Twain Scrap-book, and at the end of the first royalty period rendered a statement of twenty-five thousand copies sold, which was well enough for a book that did not contain a single word that critics could praise or condemn.  Slote issued another little book for him soon after Punch, Brothers, Punch!—­which, besides that lively sketch, contained the “Random Notes” and seven other selections.

Mark Twain was tempted to go into the lecture field that winter, not by any of the offers, though these were numerous enough, but by the idea of a combination which he thought night be not only profitable but pleasant.  Thomas Nast had made a great success of his caricature lectures, and Clemens, recalling Nast’s long-ago proposal, found it newly attractive.  He wrote characteristically: 

My dear Nast,—­I did not think I should ever stand on a platform again until the time was come for me to say, “I die innocent.”  But the same old offers keep arriving.  I have declined them all, just as usual, though sorely tempted, as usual.

    Now, I do not decline because I mind talking to an audience, but
    because (1) traveling alone is so heartbreakingly dreary, and (2)
    shouldering the whole show is such a cheer-killing responsibility.

Therefore, I now propose to you what you proposed to me in 1867, ten years ago (when I was unknown)—­viz., that you stand on the platform and make pictures, and I stand by you and blackguard the audience.  I should enormously enjoy meandering around (to big towns—­don’t want to go to the little ones), with you for company.

    My idea is not to fatten the lecture agents and lyceums on the
    spoils, but to put all the ducats religiously into two equal piles,
    and say to the artist and lecturer, “absorb these.”

    For instance, [here follows a plan and a possible list of the cities
    to be visited].  The letter continues: 

    Call the gross receipts $100,00 for four months and a half, and the
    profit from $60,000 to $75,000 (I try to make the figures large
    enough, and leave it to the public to reduce them).