“He can’t bear to see the whip used, or to see a horse pull hard.  To-day when the driver clucked up his horse and quickened his pace a little, Mark said, ’The fellow’s got the notion that we were in a hurry.’”

Another extract refers to an incident which Mark Twain also mentions in “A Tramp Abroad:”  [8]

“Mark is a queer fellow.  There is nothing so delights him as a swift, strong stream.  You can hardly get him to leave one when once he is in the influence of its fascinations.  To throw in stones and sticks seems to afford him rapture.”

Twichell goes on to tell how he threw some driftwood into a racing torrent and how Mark went running down-stream after it, waving and shouting in a sort of mad ecstasy.

When a piece went over a fall and emerged to view in the foam below, he would jump up and down and yell.  He acted just like a boy.

Boy he was, then and always.  Like Peter Pan, he never really grew up —­that is, if growing up means to grow solemn and uninterested in play.

Climbing the Gorner Grat with Twichell, they sat down to rest, and a lamb from a near-by flock ventured toward them.  Clemens held out his hand and called softly.  The lamb ventured nearer, curious but timid.

It was a scene for a painter:  the great American humorist on one side of the game, and the silly little creature on the other, with the Matterhorn for a background.  Mark was reminded that the time he was consuming was valuable, but to no purpose.  The Gorner Grat could wait.  He held on with undiscouraged perseverance till he carried his point; the lamb finally put its nose in Mark’s hand, and he was happy all the rest of the day.

“In A Tramp Abroad” Mark Twain burlesques most of the walking-tour with Harris (Twichell), feeling, perhaps, that he must make humor at whatever cost.  But to-day the other side of the picture seems more worth while.  That it seemed so to him, also, even at the time, we may gather from a letter he sent after Twichell when it was all over and Twichell was on his way home: 

“Dear old Joe,—­It is actually all over!  I was so low-spirited at the station yesterday, and this morning, when I woke, I couldn’t seem to accept the dismal truth that you were really gone and the pleasant tramping and talking at an end.  Ah, my boy!  It has been such a rich holiday for me, and I feel under such deep and honest obligations to you for coming.  I am putting out of my mind all memory of the time when I misbehaved toward you and hurt you; I am resolved to consider it forgiven, and to store up and remember only the charming hours of the journey and the times when I was not unworthy to be with you and share a companionship which to me stands first after Livy’s.”

Clemens had joined his family at Lausanne, and presently they journeyed down into Italy, returning later to Germany—­to Munich, where they lived quietly