Your September instalment—­["Their Silver Wedding journey."]—­was
delicious—­every word of it.  You haven’t lost any of your splendid art. 
Callers have arrived. 
                              With love
          
                              mark.

“Yes,” wrote Howells, “if I were a great histrionic artist like you I would get my poor essays by heart, and recite them, but being what I am I should do the thing so lifelessly that I had better recognise their deadness frankly and read them.”

From Vienna Clemens had contributed to the Cosmopolitan, then owned by John Brisben Walker, his first article on Christian Science.  It was a delicious bit of humor and found such enthusiastic appreciation that Walker was moved to send an additional $200 check in payment for it.  This brought prompt acknowledgment.

To John Brisben Walker, in Irvington, N. Y.: 

London, Oct. 19, ’99 Dear Mr. Walker,—­By gracious but you have a talent for making a man feel proud and good!  To say a compliment well is a high art—­and few possess it.  You know how to do it, and when you confirm its sincerity with a handsome cheque the limit is reached and compliment can no higher go.  I like to work for you:  when you don’t approve an article you say so, recognizing that I am not a child and can stand it; and when you approve an article I don’t have to dicker with you as if I raised peanuts and you kept a stand; I know I shall get every penny the article is worth.

You have given me very great pleasure, and I thank you for it. 
                         Sincerely Yours
                                   S. L. Clemens.

On the same day he sent word to Howells of the good luck which now seemed to be coming his way.  The Joan of Arc introduction was the same that today appears in his collected works under the title of Saint Joan of Arc.

To W. D. Howells, in New York: 

London, Oct. 19, ’99.  Dear Howells,—­My, it’s a lucky day!—­of the sort when it never rains but it pours.  I was to write an introduction to a nobler book—­the English translation of the Official Record (unabridged) of the Trials and Rehabilitation of Joan of Arc, and make a lot of footnotes.  I wrote the introduction in Sweden, and here a few days ago I tore loose from a tale I am writing, and took the Ms book and went at the grind of note-making —­a fearful job for a man not used to it.  This morning brought a note from my excellent friend Murray, a rich Englishman who edits the translation, saying, “Never mind the notes—­we’ll make the translators do them.”  That was comfort and joy.

The same mail brought a note from Canon Wilberforce, asking me to talk Joan of Arc in his drawing-room to the Dukes and Earls and M. P.’s —­(which would fetch me out of my seclusion and into print, and I couldn’t have that,) and so of course I must run down to the Abbey and explain—­and lose an hour.  Just then came Murray and said “Leave that to me—­I’ll go and do the explaining and put the thing off 3 months; you write a note and tell him I am coming.”