and incompetent old relatives to prepare the food for the foundling’ hospital when I warden.  I was wavering—­wavering.  And at last, as a due and fitting climax to the shameless persecution that party rancor had inflicted upon me, nine little toddling children, of all shades of color and degrees of raggedness, were taught to rush onto the platform at a public meeting, and clasp me around the legs and call me Pa!

I gave it up.  I hauled down my colors and surrendered.  I was not equal to the requirements of a Gubernatorial campaign in the state of New York, and so I sent in my withdrawal from the candidacy, and in bitterness of spirit signed it, “Truly yours, once a decent man, but now

“MarkTwain, LP., M.T., B.S., D.T., F.C., and L.E.”

A MYSTERIOUS VISIT

The first notice that was taken of me when I “settled down” recently was by a gentleman who said he was an assessor, and connected with the U. S. Internal Revenue Department.  I said I had never heard of his branch of business before, but I was very glad to see him all the same.  Would he sit down?  He sat down.  I did not know anything particular to say, and yet I felt that people who have arrived at the dignity of keeping house must be conversational, must be easy and sociable in company.  So, in default of anything else to say, I asked him if he was opening his shop in our neighborhood.

He said he was. [I did not wish to appear ignorant, but I had hoped he would mention what he had for sale.]

I ventured to ask him “How was trade?” And he said “So-so.”

I then said we would drop in, and if we liked his house as well as any other, we would give him our custom.

He said he thought we would like his establishment well enough to confine ourselves to it—­said he never saw anybody who would go off and hunt up another man in his line after trading with him once.

That sounded pretty complacent, but barring that natural expression of villainy which we all have, the man looked honest enough.

I do not know how it came about exactly, but gradually we appeared to melt down and run together, conversationally speaking, and then everything went along as comfortably as clockwork.

We talked, and talked, and talked—­at least I did; and we laughed, and laughed, and laughed—­at least he did.  But all the time I had my presence of mind about me—­I had my native shrewdness turned on “full head,” as the engineers say.  I was determined to find out all about his business in spite of his obscure answers—­and I was determined I would have it out of him without his suspecting what I was at.  I meant to trap him with a deep, deep ruse.  I would tell him all about my own business, and he would naturally so warm to me during this seductive burst of confidence that he would forget himself, and tell me all about his affairs before he suspected what I was about.  I thought to myself, My son, you little know what an old fox you are dealing with.  I said: