I am glad to know you like the "Prince and the Pauper" so well and Ibelieve with you that the dream is good evidence of that liking.I think I may say, with your sister that I like myself best when I am serious.
Sincerely yours, S.L.CLEMENS.
Through February, and most of March, letters and reports from him were about the same.He had begun to plan for his return, and concerning amusements at Stormfield for the entertainment of the neighbors, and for the benefit of the library which he had founded soon after his arrival in Redding.In these letters he seldom mentioned the angina pains that had tortured him earlier.But once, when he sent a small photograph of himself, it seemed to us that his face had become thin and that he had suffered.Certainly his next letter was not reassuring.
To A.B.Paine, in Redding:
DEAR PAINE,--We must look into the magic-lantern business.Maybe the modern lantern is too elaborate and troublesome for back-settlement use, but we can inquire.We must have some kind of a show at "Stormfield" to entertain the countryside with.
We are booked to sail in the "Bermudian" April 23rd, but don't tell anybody, I don't want it known.I may have to go sooner if the pain in my breast doesn't mend its ways pretty considerably.I don't want to die here for this is an unkind place for a person in that condition.Ishould have to lie in the undertaker's cellar until the ship would remove me and it is dark down there and unpleasant.
The Colliers will meet me on the pier and I may stay with them a week or two before going home.It all depends on the breast pain--I don't want to die there.I am growing more and more particular about the place.
With love, S.L.C.
This letter had been written by the hand of his "secretary," Helen Allen: writing had become an effort to him.Yet we did not suspect how rapidly the end was approaching and only grew vaguely alarmed.
A week later, however, it became evident that his condition was critical.
DEAR PAINE,--....I have been having a most uncomfortable time for the past 4 days with that breast-pain, which turns out to be an affection of the heart, just as I originally suspected.The news from New York is to the effect that non-bronchial weather has arrived there at last, therefore if I can get my breast trouble in traveling condition I may sail for home a week or two earlier than has heretofore been proposed:
Yours as ever S.L.CLEMENS, (per H.S.A.)
In this letter he seems to have forgotten that his trouble had been pronounced an affection of the heart long before he left America, though at first it had been thought that it might be gastritis.
The same mail brought a letter from Mr.Allen explaining fully the seriousness of his condition.I sailed immediately for Bermuda, arriving there on the 4th of April.He was not suffering at the moment, though the pains came now with alarming frequency and violence.He was cheerful and brave.He did not complain.He gave no suggestion of a man whose days were nearly ended.
A part of the Stormfield estate had been a farm, which he had given to Jean Clemens, where she had busied herself raising some live stock and poultry.After her death he had wished the place to be sold and the returns devoted to some memorial purpose.The sale had been made during the winter and the price received had been paid in cash.I found him full of interest in all affairs, and anxious to discuss the memorial plan.A day or two later he dictated the following letter-the last he would ever send.
It seemed fitting that this final word from one who had so long given happiness to the whole world should record a special gift to his neighbors.
To Charles T.Lark, in New York: