years ago where the P. M. General suddenly issued an edict requiring you to add the name of the State after Boston, New York, Chicago, &c, in your superscriptions, on pain of having your letter stopped and forwarded to the dead-letter office; yes, and I believe he required the county, too.  He made one little concession in favor of New York:  you could say “New York City,” and stop there; but if you left off the “city,” you must add “N.  Y.” to your “New York.”  Why, it threw the business of the whole country into chaos and brought commerce almost to a stand-still.  Now think of that!  When that man goes to—­to—­well, wherever he is going to—­we shan’t want the microscopic details of his address.  I guess we can find him.

Well, as I was saying, I believe that this whole paltry and ridiculous swindle is a pure creation of one of those cabbages that used to be at the head of one of those Retreats down there—­Departments, you know—­and that you will find it so, if you will look into it.  And moreover—­but land, I reckon we are both tired by this time. 
                              Truly Yours,
                                             mark Twain.

XXVII

Miscellaneous letters of 1887.  Literary articles.  Peaceful days at the farm.  Favorite reading.  Apology to Mrs. Cleveland, etc.

We have seen in the preceding chapter how unknown aspirants in one field or another were always seeking to benefit by Mark Twain’s reputation.  Once he remarked, “The symbol of the human race ought to be an ax; every human being has one concealed about him somewhere.”  He declared when a stranger called on him, or wrote to him, in nine cases out of ten he could distinguish the gleam of the ax almost immediately.  The following letter is closely related to those of the foregoing chapter, only that this one was mailed—­not once, but many times, in some form adapted to the specific applicant.  It does not matter to whom it was originally written, the name would not be recognized.

To Mrs. T. Concerning unearned credentials, etc.

Hartford, 1887.  My dear madam,—­It is an idea which many people have had, but it is of no value.  I have seen it tried out many and many a time.  I have seen a lady lecturer urged and urged upon the public in a lavishly complimentary document signed by Longfellow, Whittier, Holmes and some others of supreme celebrity, but—­there was nothing in her and she failed.  If there had been any great merit in her she never would have needed those men’s help and (at her rather mature age,) would never have consented to ask for it.

There is an unwritten law about human successes, and your sister must bow to that law, she must submit to its requirements.  In brief this law is: