One wishes that Howells might have found value enough in the verses of Frank Soule to recommend them to Osgood.  To Clemens he wrote:  “You have touched me in regard to him, and I will deal gently with his poetry.  Poor old fellow!  I can imagine him, and how he must have to struggle not to be hard or sour.”

     The verdict, however, was inevitable.  Soule’s graceful verses
     proved to be not poetry at all.  No publisher of standing could
     afford to give them his imprint.

The “Encyclopedical Scotchman” mentioned in the preceding letter was the publisher Gebbie, who had a plan to engage Howells and Clemens to prepare some sort of anthology of the world’s literature.  The idea came to nothing, though the other plan mentioned—­for a library of humor—­in time grew into a book.

Mark Twain’s contracts with Bliss for the publication of his books on the subscription plan had been made on a royalty basis, beginning with 5 per cent. on ‘The Innocents Abroad’ increasing to 7 per cent. on ‘Roughing It,’ and to 10 per cent. on later books.  Bliss had held that these later percentages fairly represented one half the profits.  Clemens, however, had never been fully satisfied, and his brother Onion had more than once urged him to demand a specific contract on the half-profit basis.  The agreement for the publication of ‘A Tramp Abroad’ was made on these terms.  Bliss died before Clemens received his first statement of sales.  Whatever may have been the facts under earlier conditions, the statement proved to Mark Twain’s satisfaction; at least, that the half-profit arrangement was to his advantage.  It produced another result; it gave Samuel Clemens an excuse to place his brother Onion in a position of independence.

To Onion Clemens, in Keokuk, Iowa: 

Sunday, Oct 24 ’80.  My dear Bro.,—­Bliss is dead.  The aspect of the balance-sheet is enlightening.  It reveals the fact, through my present contract, (which is for half the profits on the book above actual cost of paper, printing and binding,) that I have lost considerably by all this nonsense—­sixty thousand dollars, I should say—­and if Bliss were alive I would stay with the concern and get it all back; for on each new book I would require a portion of that back pay; but as it is (this in the very strictest confidence,) I shall probably go to a new publisher 6 or 8 months hence, for I am afraid Frank, with his poor health, will lack push and drive.

Out of the suspicions you bred in me years ago, has grown this result, —­to wit, that I shall within the twelvemonth get $40,000 out of this “Tramp” instead Of $20,000.  Twenty thousand dollars, after taxes and other expenses are stripped away, is worth to the investor about $75 a month—­so I shall tell Mr. Perkins to make your check that amount per month, hereafter, while our income is able to afford it.  This ends the loan business; and hereafter you can reflect that you are living not on borrowed money but on money which you have squarely earned, and which has no taint or savor of charity about it—­and you can also reflect that the money you have been receiving of me all these years is interest charged against the heavy bill which the next publisher will have to stand who gets a book of mine.