......................

If the meeting should decide to quit business Jan. 4, I’d like to have
Stoker stopped from paying in any more money, if Miss Harrison doesn’t
mind that disagreeable job.  And I’ll have to write them, too, of course. 
                    With love,
                         S. L. Clemens.

The “Stoker” of this letter was Bram Stoker, long associated with Sir Henry Irving.  Irving himself had also taken stock in the machine.  The address, 169 Rue de l’Universite, whence these letters are written, was the beautiful studio home of the artist Pomroy which they had taken for the winter.

To H. H. Rogers, in New York: 

169 Rue de L’UNIVERSITE,
Paris, Dec. 27, ’94. 
Dear Mr. Rogers,—­Notwithstanding your heart is “old and hard,” you make a body choke up.  I know you “mean every word you say” and I do take it “in the same spirit in which you tender it.”  I shall keep your regard while we two live—­that I know; for I shall always remember what you have done for me, and that will insure me against ever doing anything that could forfeit it or impair it.  I am 59 years old; yet I never had a friend before who put out a hand and tried to pull me ashore when he found me in deep waters.

It is six days or seven days ago that I lived through that despairing day, and then through a night without sleep; then settled down next day into my right mind (or thereabouts,) and wrote you.  I put in the rest of that day till 7 P. M. plenty comfortably enough writing a long chapter of my book; then went to a masked ball blacked up as Uncle Remus, taking Clara along; and we had a good time.  I have lost no day since and suffered no discomfort to speak of, but drove my troubles out of my mind and had good success in keeping them out—­through watchfulness.  I have done a good week’s work and put the book a good way ahead in the Great Trial, which is the difficult part which requires the most thought and carefulness.  I cannot see the end of the Trial yet, but I am on the road.  I am creeping surely toward it.

“Why not leave them all to me.”  My business bothers?  I take you by the hand!  I jump at the chance!

I ought to be ashamed and I am trying my best to be ashamed—­and yet I do jump at the chance in spite of it.  I don’t want to write Irving and I don’t want to write Stoker.  It doesn’t seem as if I could.  But I can suggest something for you to write them; and then if you see that I am unwise, you can write them something quite different.  Now this is my idea: 

     1.  To return Stoker’s $100 to him and keep his stock.

     2.  And tell Irving that when luck turns with me I will make good to
     him what the salvage from the dead Co. fails to pay him of his $500.

P. S. Madam says No, I must face the music.  So I enclose my effort to be used if you approve, but not otherwise.