That doctor had half an idea that there is something the matter with my brain. . .  Doctors do know so little and they do charge so much for it.  I wish Henry Rogers would come here, and I wish you would come with him.  You can’t rest in that crowded place, but you could rest here, for sure!  I would learn bridge, and entertain you, and rob you. 
                         With love to you both,
                                        Ever yours,
                                                  S. L. C.

In the foregoing letter we get the first intimation of Mark Twain’s failing health.  The nephew who had died was Samuel E. Moffett, son of Pamela Clemens.  Moffett, who was a distinguished journalist—­an editorial writer on Collier’s Weekly, a man beloved by all who knew him—­had been drowned in the surf off the Jersey beach.

To W. D. Howells, Kittery Point, Maine: 

Aug. 12, ’08.  Dear Howells,—­Won’t you and Mrs. Howells and Mildred come and give us as many days as you can spare, and examine John’s triumph?  It is the most satisfactory house I am acquainted with, and the most satisfactorily situated.

But it is no place to work in, because one is outside of it all the time, while the sun and the moon are on duty.  Outside of it in the loggia, where the breezes blow and the tall arches divide up the scenery and frame it.

It’s a ghastly long distance to come, and I wouldn’t travel such a distance to see anything short of a memorial museum, but if you can’t come now you can at least come later when you return to New York, for the journey will be only an hour and a half per express-train.  Things are gradually and steadily taking shape inside the house, and nature is taking care of the outside in her ingenious and wonderful fashion—­and she is competent and asks no help and gets none.  I have retired from New York for good, I have retired from labor for good, I have dismissed my stenographer and have entered upon a holiday whose other end is in the cemetery. 
                    Yours ever,
                                   mark.

From a gentleman in Buffalo Clemens one day received a letter inclosing an incompleted list of the world’s “One Hundred Greatest Men,” men who had exerted “the largest visible influence on the life and activities of the race.”  The writer asked that Mark Twain examine the list and suggest names, adding “would you include Jesus, as the founder of Christianity, in the list?”

To the list of statesmen Clemens added the name of Thomas Paine; to
the list of inventors, Edison and Alexander Graham Bell.  The
question he answered in detail.

To-----------, Buffalo, N.  Y.

Private.  Redding, Conn, Aug. 28, ’08. 
Dear sir,—­By “private,” I mean don’t print any remarks of mine.

.................. 
I like your list.

The “largest visible influence.”