TRAMPING ABROAD

It was now going on ten years since the publication of “The Innocents Abroad,” and there was a demand for another Mark Twain book of travel.  Clemens considered the matter, and decided that a walking-tour in Europe might furnish the material he wanted.  He spoke to his good friend, the Rev.  “Joe” Twichell, and invited him to become his guest on such an excursion, because, as he explained, he thought he could “dig material enough out of Joe to make it a sound investment.”  As a matter of fact, he loved Twichell’s companionship, and was always inviting him to share his journeys—­to Boston, to Bermuda, to Washington—­wherever interest or fancy led him.  His plan now was to take the family to Germany in the spring, and let Twichell join them later for a summer tramp down through the Black Forest and Switzerland.  Meantime the Clemens household took up the study of German.  The children had a German nurse—­others a German teacher.  The household atmosphere became Teutonic.  Of course it all amused Mark Twain, as everything amused him, but he was a good student.  In a brief time he had a fair knowledge of every-day German and a really surprising vocabulary.  The little family sailed in April (1878), and a few weeks later were settled in the Schloss Hotel, on a hill above Heidelberg, overlooking the beautiful old castle, the ancient town, with the Neckar winding down the hazy valley—­as fair a view as there is in all Germany.

Clemens found a room for his work in a small house not far from the hotel.  On the day of his arrival he had pointed out this house and said he had decided to work there—­that his room would be the middle one on the third floor.  Mrs. Clemens laughed, and thought the occupants of the house might be surprised when he came over to take possession.  They amused themselves by watching “his people” and trying to make out what they were like.  One day he went over that way, and, sure enough, there was a sign, “Furnished Rooms,” and the one he had pointed out from the hotel was vacant.  It became his study forthwith.

The travelers were delighted with their location.  To Howells, Clemens wrote: 

“Our bedroom has two great glass bird-cages (inclosed balconies), one looking toward the Rhine Valley and sunset, the other looking up the Neckar cul de sac, and, naturally, we spent nearly all our time in these.  We have tables and chairs in them . . . .  It must have been a noble genius who devised this hotel.  Lord! how blessed is the repose, the tranquillity of this place!  Only two sounds:  the happy clamor of the birds in the groves and the muffled music of the Neckar tumbling over the opposing dikes.  It is no hardship to lie awake awhile nights, for thin subdued roar has exactly the sound of a steady rain beating upon a roof.  It is so healing to the spirit; and it bears up the thread of one’s imaginings as the accompaniment bears up a song.”

Twichell was summoned for August, and wrote back eagerly at the prospect: