Mentone, Mch 22, ’92.  Susy dear,—­I have been delighted to note your easy facility with your pen and proud to note also your literary superiorities of one kind and another—­clearness of statement, directness, felicity of expression, photographic ability in setting forth an incident—­style—­good style—­no barnacles on it in the way of unnecessary, retarding words (the Shipman scrapes off the barnacles when he wants his racer to go her best gait and straight to the buoy.) You should write a letter every day, long or short —­and so ought I, but I don’t.

Mamma says, tell Clara yes, she will have to write a note if the fan comes back mended.

We couldn’t go to Nice to-day—­had to give it up, on various accounts —­and this was the last chance.  I am sorry for Mamma—­I wish she could have gone.  She got a heavy fall yesterday evening and was pretty stiff and lame this morning, but is working it off trunk packing.

Joseph is gone to Nice to educate himself in Kodaking—­and to get the pictures mounted which Mamma thinks she took here; but I noticed she didn’t take the plug out, as a rule.  When she did, she took nine pictures on top of each other—­composites. 
                              With lots of love. 
          
                                        Papa.

In the course of their Italian wanderings they reached Florence, where they were so comfortable and well that they decided to engage a villa for the next winter.  Through Prof.  Willard Fiske, they discovered the Villa Viviani, near Settignano, an old palace beautifully located on the hilltops east of Florence, commanding a wonderful view of the ancient city.  Clemens felt that he could work there, and time proved that he was right.

For the summer, however, they returned to Germany, and located at Bad-Nauheim.  Clemens presently decided to make a trip to America to give some personal attention to business matters.  For one thing, his publishing-house, in spite of prosperity, seemed constantly to be requiring more capital, and then a Chicago company had been persuaded by Paige to undertake the manufacture of the type-setter.  It was the beginning of a series of feverish trips which he would make back and forth across the ocean during the next two years.

To Fred J. Hall, in New York: 

Bad-Nauheim, June 11, ’92. 
Saturday. 
Dear Mr. Hall,—­If this arrives before I do, let it inform you that I am leaving Bremen for New York next Tuesday in the “Havel.”

If you can meet me when the ship arrives, you can help me to get away from the reporters; and maybe you can take me to your own or some other lodgings where they can’t find me.

But if the hour is too early or too late for you, I shall obscure myself somewhere till I can come to the office.

Yours sincerely
                         S. L. C.