’For simplicity, elegance of diction, and freedom from immoral
     tendencies, I regard those two poems in the light of gems.  They
     are suited to all grades of intelligence, to every sphere of life
    —­to the field, to the nursery, to the guild.  Especially should
     no Board of Aldermen be without them.

     ’Venerable fossils! write again.  Nothing improves one so much as
     friendly correspondence.  Write again—­and if there is anything in
     this memorial of yours that refers to anything in particular, do
     not be backward about explaining it.  We shall always be happy to
     hear you chirp. 
                         ’Very truly, etc.,
                                   “’Mark Twain,
                         ‘For James W. N-----, U. S. Senator.’

“That is an atrocious, a ruinous epistle!  Distraction!”

“Well, sir, I am really sorry if there is anything wrong about it—­but —­but it appears to me to dodge the water-lot question.”

“Dodge the mischief!  Oh!—­but never mind.  As long as destruction must come now, let it be complete.  Let it be complete—­let this last of your performances, which I am about to read, make a finality of it.  I am a ruined man.  I had my misgivings when I gave you the letter from Humboldt, asking that the post route from Indian Gulch to Shakespeare Gap and intermediate points be changed partly to the old Mormon trail.  But I told you it was a delicate question, and warned you to deal with it deftly—­to answer it dubiously, and leave them a little in the dark.  And your fatal imbecility impelled you to make this disastrous reply.  I should think you would stop your ears, if you are not dead to all shame: 

“’Washington, Nov. 30.

     “’Messes.  Perkins, Wagner, et at.

“’Gentlemen:  It is a delicate question about this Indian trail, but, handled with proper deftness and dubiousness, I doubt not we shall succeed in some measure or otherwise, because the place where the route leaves the Lassen Meadows, over beyond where those two Shawnee chiefs, Dilapidated Vengeance and Biter-of-the-Clouds, were scalped last winter, this being the favorite direction to some, but others preferring something else in consequence of things, the Mormon trail leaving Mosby’s at three in the morning, and passing through Jaw bone Flat to Blucher, and then down by Jug-Handle, the road passing to the right of it, and naturally leaving it on the right, too, and Dawson’s on the left of the trail where it passes to the left of said Dawson’s and onward thence to Tomahawk, thus making the route cheaper, easier of access to all who can get at it, and compassing all the desirable objects so considered by others, and, therefore, conferring the most good upon the greatest number, and, consequently, I am encouraged to hope we shall.  However, I shall be ready, and happy,