Section 1 of Mark Twain in the New York Times. Part 1, 1867 to 1879. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Mark Twain in the New York Times. Part 1. Section 1. May 1, 1867. New Publications. Read by John Greenman. In a hastily printed and tastefully bound little volume called The Jumping Frog, which is the initial venture of Mr. C. H. Webb as a publisher, Mark Twain presents himself a candidate for the honors of a humorist. Mark Twain is, we believe, the nomed plume of Mr. Samuel Clements, S. I. C., who although a Missourian by birth has for the last year had his residence in California. There his contributions to the weekly journals secured him a wide popularity, and this volume serves to introduce him to the lovers of humor in the Atlantic States. The sketch from which the book takes its name was first published several years ago, and at that time was widely circulated through the newspapers. It is a fair specimen of the whimsical fancies in which the book abounds, and although there are other sketches nearly equal to it in merit, it is appropriately assigned the leading place, because it has done more than any other single paper, to secure for the writer whatever reputation he may have. Mark Twain differs from other recent writers of his class in not resorting to the adventitious aid of bad spelling to make his jokes seem more absurd. And this is, of course, decidedly in his favor. There is a great deal of quaint humor and much pithy wisdom in his writings, and their own merit, as well as the attractive style in which they are produced, must secure them a popularity which will bring its own profit. The American News Company are the agents for the publisher, and he is, by the way, also editor of the volume. End of Section 1. May 1, 1867, New Publications. Read by John Greenman. Section 2 of Mark Twain in the New York Times Part 1, 1867 to 1879. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Mark Twain in the New York Times Part 1, Section 2, May 7, 1867. Mark Twain's Lecture. Read by John Greenman. A full and attentive audience, assembled at the Cooper Institute last evening, to listen to the recital of Mark Twain's experiences in the Sandwich Islands. Nearly every one present came prepared for considerable provocation for enjoyable laughter, and from the appearance of the mirthful faces leaving the hall at the conclusion of the lecture, but few were disappointed. And it is not too much to say that seldom has so large an audience been so uniformly pleased as the one that listened to Mark Twain's quaint remarks last evening. The large hall of the Union was filled to its utmost capacity by fully two thousand persons, which fact spoke well for the brilliant reputation of the lecturer and his future success. Mr. Twain's style is a quaint one, both in manner and method, and throughout his discourse he managed to keep on the right side of his audience and frequently convulsed it with hearty laughter. Some of the anecdotes, related, were wittily told, and so embellished as to be doubly enjoyed by his hearers. While the speaker made some very amusing comments upon the habits and customs of the Sandwich Islanders, he stated that all the facts related by him were strictly true, and several of them appeared quite strange as well as true. The speaker gave the American missionaries great credit for their work in civilizing and converting the Islanders, and spoke of the singular fact that the descendants of these missionaries have no stain upon their moral character being exemplary citizens. During his description of the topography of the Sandwich Islands the lecturer surprised his hearers by a graphic and eloquent description of the great volcano which occurred in 1840, and his language was loudly applauded. Judging from the success achieved by the lecturer last evening he should repeat the experiment at an early day. End of Section 2, May 7, 1867, Mark Twain's lecture, read by John Greenman. Section 3 of Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, 1867-1879. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, Section 3. June 9, 1867. The Pleasure Excursion to Europe and Palestine. Sailing of the Quaker City. Read by John Greenman. The steamer Quaker City, Captain Duncan, sailed from this port yesterday, having on board the private excursion party Dustin for a summer trip up the Mediterranean touching at Gibraltar, Marseille, Genoa, Leghorn, Naples, Smyrna, Joppa, Alexandria, Malta, Russia, Madeira, etc., and returning the latter part of October. This excursion was set on foot some four months ago by Captain Duncan and was originally designed to embrace a select and somewhat exclusive party, but before the steamer sailed it was found necessary to lower the standard a little and ordinary persons with $1,200 to spend were enabled to purchase tickets. Then Henry Ward Beecher, who was early announced to be of the party, found it inconvenient to make the trip, and more recently General Sherman was compelled to forego the pleasure, so that after the withdrawal of these two leading names from the Bill of Attractions the passenger list gradually diminished until the steamer was obliged to sail with about half the complement of names provided for in the original program. Nevertheless the party will doubtless be equally jolly, if not quite so select as it first contemplated, and the excursion cannot fail to prove a pleasant and enjoyable mode of passing the summer. It is designed to reach the leading ports in the following order, Marseille about 27th June, Naples 27th July, Constantinople 13th August, Alexandria 12th September, Gibraltar 2nd October, arriving home before November 1st. At all of these places the steamer will stop long enough to give the excursionists an opportunity to make a trip into the interior and visit adjacent points of interest. Those who prefer to remain on board the steamer while lying in port will be allowed to do so without additional expense. The sailing of the steamer yesterday morning drew together a large throng of people upon the wharf, composed mainly of the friends and relatives of the passengers, many of whom accompanied the Quaker City down the bay in the steamboat SO Pierce, which was chartered for the occasion. The excursionists number about 75 persons as follows. AF Allen, New York City. Dr. E. Andres, Albany, New York. J.G. Tarrie, St. Louis, Missouri. Mr. and Mrs. A. Dell, Portsmouth, Ohio. T.S. Beckwith, Cleveland, Ohio. M.S. C.Y. and Ms. F. Beach, Brooklyn. Dr. G. Birch, Missouri. Mr. and Mrs. J.W. and Ms. Bond, St. Paul, Missouri. Dr. M. Brown, Circleville, Ohio. Yohamas, Bremen, Philadelphia. Reverend H. Bullard, Wayland, Massachusetts. S. Mark Twain, Clemens, California. Ms. Shadane, Jersey City. W.F. Church, Cincinnati, Ohio. Dr. A. and Master Crane, New York City. Mr. and Mrs. W.D. Crocker, Cleveland, Ohio. D.H. Cutter, Long Island. Nathan Deccan, Long Island. J.W. Denny, Winchester, Virginia. Mr. and Mrs. Fred Diamond, Norwalk, Connecticut. Mrs. C.C. and Sons. G.H. Duncan, Brooklyn. P.A. Elliott, Columbus, Ohio. Mrs. Fairbanks, Ohio. J. Herman Foster, Pennsylvania. W. and Mrs. Gieason, Jamestown, Pennsylvania. Reverend F.H. Greer, Boston, Massachusetts. John Greenwood, Jr., New York City. S.M. Griswold and Wife, New York City. General B.B. Grubb, Burlington, New Jersey. Mrs. J. O. Green, Washington. G. Heiss, Philadelphia. Captain W.R. Hoyle, Cincinnati. Honorable J. S. Holdenian, Harrisburg. Dr. E. C. Hutchinson, St. Louis. James K. Hyde, Sudbury. J.G. Isham, Cincinnati, Ohio. Dr. A.A. Reeve Jackson, Straussburg. W.E. James, Brooklyn. Frederick P. Jenkins, Boston, Massachusetts. Colonel P. Kinney, Portsmouth, Ohio. Charles L. Langdon, New York City. Ms. LeCow, San Francisco, California. Daniel Leary, New York City. Mrs. F.G. Lee, New York City. Mr. and Mrs. E. R. Lockwood, Newark, Connecticut. J.M.A., Janesville, Wisconsin. Mrs. Mitchell, Boston, Massachusetts. Ms. Maggie Mitchell, Boston, Massachusetts. L. Moody, Canton, New York. J. Moulton, St. John's, Missouri. A. Nelson, Alton, Illinois. F.S. Nesbitt, Fulton, Missouri. Ms. Newell, Janesville. W.A. Otis, Cleveland. C.C. Payne, Pennsylvania. Reverend A.L. Park and Ms. Park, Boston. G.H. Persons, New York. Dr. and Mrs. J. H. Payne, Boston. G.W. Kero, Aurora. S.N. Sandard, Cleveland. S.L. Severance, Cleveland. Daniel Slote, St. Louis. S. Willets, Long Island. End of Section 3, June 9, 1867, The Pleasure Excursion to Europe and Palestine, Sailing of the Quaker City. Red by John Greenman. Section 4 of Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, 1867 to 1879. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Mark Twain in the New York Times. July 23, 1871. A Real Church. And A New Beecher Church. Red by John Greenman. A Real Church. We print elsewhere an account of a church proposed, if we may believe the gentleman who calls himself Mark Twain, to be erected in Elmira, according to the plans and wishes of Reverend Thomas K. Beecher. The writer of this account has on several occasions deluded a too credulous public with what appears to him practical jokes, and this tale of his may be only another joke. But if it is, it is admirably conceived and worthy to be made a fact. He relates that Mr. Beecher, who is a well-known and justly esteemed clergyman in Elmira, proposes, and his congregation consents, to erect a series of buildings in connection with the church proper, to include Sunday school rooms, a lecture room, an assembly room, where any member of the church may give a social party to his friends, an infirmary for the care of the sick poor belonging to the church, thoroughly fitted and supplied with attendance and with a kitchen, a set of bathrooms where the church members, or those who have no such conveniences at home, may bathe free of charge, and a free library. In connection with the infirmary, the church is to keep a horse and carriage to give its sick poor the air. To a good many people such a scheme as this would doubtless seem craxotic and impracticable. To us, we confess, it appears not only practical, but eminently wise. What is the object of a church? For what do a number of people unite together as a church organization? Is it to erect, furnish, and maintain a showy building, and install therein and support a brilliant orator, to whom they shall listen once or perhaps twice in the week, and who shall reflect upon them much glory? That appears undoubtedly the main object of most congregations. To be sure they do something more. They support, if they are rich, missionary chapels for the accommodation of the poor. They are benevolent in various ways, but many of the ways, though convened, are essentially wrong and sometimes in the long run mischievous, because they separate the rich from the poor.  It ought to provide for the wants of both. It ought to bring them together, to establish and maintain between them mutual relations of kindness and brotherly interest. It ought to provide for its sick poor. It should see after the welfare of its members. In short, it ought to do what, according to Mark Twain, Mr. Beecher's church proposes to try in Elmira. Fewer Psalms and more supper was what a little street urchin proposed in London as an amendment to the practice of some benevolent body which had taken him in charge, and he was right. Mr. Brace's efforts among the poor children in this city have been successful, because he and those who have labored with him have been able to convince the children that they were interested not only in their eternal but in their present and material welfare. A few years ago a well-known citizen of Brooklyn, now dead, but still remembered with gratitude, by hundreds of young men in this city and elsewhere, was the superintendent of a very popular and successful Sunday school. And it was his constant practice, not only to instruct and train the boys and girls, mostly poor and many friendless, on Sunday, but also to see that they were properly and usefully employed. To look after their advancement in the workshops where they earned their living, to seek employment for those who needed it. In short, he was not only their teacher, he was their helper, their guide, their friend, and ally. He was to them what if we may believe Mark Twain, Mr. Beecher's people in Elmira proposed to be to all who are of their membership, a helper in the time of need, an encourager, a comforter. His friendship aided and strengthened many hundreds of youths to live upright lives, to resist the temptations of city life, and to be patient, hopeful, and industrious. Thus to encourage and help by contact, by familiar acquaintance, by example, and by Christian kindness, rather than by the gift of money or old clothes, seems to us to be the true office of a Christian church. And we trust Mr. T. K. Beecher, who has the reputation of being a persistent man, will be able to give his plan a fair trial. A NEW BEACHER CHURCH By Mark Twain If Reverend Mr. Smith, or Reverend Mr. Jones, or Reverend Mr. Brown, were about to build a new church, edifice, it would be projected on the same old pattern, and be like pretty much all the other churches in the country. And so I would naturally mention it as a new Presbyterian church, or a new Methodist, or a new Baptist church. I never think of calling it by the pastor's name. But when a Beecher projects a church, that edifice is necessarily going to be something entirely fresh and original. It is not going to be like any other church in the world. It is going to be as variegated, eccentric, and marked with as peculiar and striking an individuality as a Beecher himself. It is going to have a deal more Beecher in it than any one narrow creed can fit in it without rattling, or any one arbitrary order or architecture can symmetrically enclose and cover. Consequently, to call it a congregational church would not give half an idea of the thing. There is only one word broad enough and deep enough to take in the whole affair and express it clearly, luminously, and concisely, and that is Beecher. The projected edifice I am about to speak of is therefore properly named in my caption as a new Beecher church. The projector is Reverend Thomas K. Beecher, brother of the other one, of course. I never knew but one Beecher that wasn't, and he was a nephew. The new church is to be built in Elmira, New York, where Mr. Beecher has been preaching to one and the same congregation for the last sixteen years, and is thoroughly esteemed and beloved by his people. I have had opportunity to hear all about the new church, for I have lately been visiting in Elmira. Now, when one has that disease which gives its possessor the title of humorist, he must make oath to his statements, else the public will not believe him. Therefore I make solemn oath that what I am going to tell about the new church is the strict truth. The main building, for there are to be three massed together in a large grassy square ornamented with quite a forest of shade trees, will be the church proper. It will be lofty in order to secure good air and ventilation. The auditorium will be circular, an amphitheater after the ordinary pattern of an opera house, without galleries. It is to seat a thousand persons. On one side, or one end, if you choose, will be an ample raised platform for the minister, the rear half of which will be occupied by the organ and the choir. Before the minister will be the circling amphitheater of pews, the first thirty or forty on the level floor, and the next rising in graduated tiers to the walls. The seats on the level floor will be occupied by the aged and infirm, who can enter the church through a hall under the speaker's platform without climbing any stairs. The people occupying the raised tiers will enter by a dozen doors opening into the church from a lobby like an opera house lobby, and to send the various aisles to their places. In case of fire or earthquakes, these numerous exits will be convenient and useful. No spaces to be wasted. Under the raised tiers of pews are to be stalls for horses and carriages, so that these may be sheltered from sun and rain. There will be twenty-four of these stalls, each stall to be entered by an arch of ornamental masonry, no doors to open or shut. Consequently the outside base of the church will have a formidable porthole look like a man of war. The stalls are to be so mailed with deadeners and so thoroughly plastered that neither sound nor smell can ascend to the church and offend the worshippers. The horses will be in attendance at church but an hour or two at a time, of course, and can defile the stalls but little. An immediate cleansing after they leave is to set that all right again. There is to be no steeple on the church merely because no practical use can be made of it. There is to be no bell, because any ignoramus knows what time church service begins without that exasperating nuisance. In explanation of this remark I will state that at home I suffer in the vicinity and under the distracting clanger of thirteen church bells, all of whom, is that right? Clammer at once, and no two in accord. A large part of my most valuable time is taken up in devising cruel and unusual sufferings and infancy, inflicting them on those bell-ringers, and having a good time. The second building is to be less lofty than the church, is to be built right against the rear of it and communicate with it by a door. It is to have two stories. On the first floor will be three distinct Sunday school rooms, all large, but one considerably larger than the other two. The Sunday school connected with Mr. Beecher's church has always been a graded one, and each department singularly thorough in its grade of instruction. The pupil wins his advancement to the higher grades by hard-won proficiency, not by near added years. The largest of the three compartments will be used as the main Sunday school room and for the weekday evening lecture. The whole upper story of this large building will be well lighted and ventilated, and occupied wholly as a playroom for the children of the church, and it will stand open and welcome to them through all the weekdays. They can fill it with their playthings if they choose, and besides it will be furnished with dumbbells, swings, rocking horses, and all such matters as children delight in. The idea is to make a child look upon a church as only another home, and a sunny one, rather than as a dismal exile or a prison. The third building will be less lofty than the second. It will adjoin the rear of the second and communicate with it by a door or doors. It will consist of three stories. Like the other two buildings it will cover considerable ground. On the first floor will be the church parlours, where the usual social gatherings of modern congregations are held. On the same floor and opening into the parlours will be a reception room, and also a circulating library, a free library, not simply free to the church membership, but to everybody, just as is the present library of Mr. Beecher's church, and few libraries are more extensively and more diligently and gratefully used than this one. Also on this floor and communicating with the parlours will be, tell it not in goth, publish it not in ascalon, six bathrooms. Hot and cold water. Free tickets issued to any applicant among the unclean of the congregation. The idea is sound and sensible for this reason. Many members of all congregations have no good bathing facilities and are not able to pay for them at the barber-shops without feeling the expense. And yet a luxurious bath is a thing that all civilized beings greatly enjoy and derive healthful benefit from. The church buildings are to be heated by steam, and consequently the waste steam can be very judiciously utilized in the proposed bathrooms. In speaking of this bathroom project I have revealed a state secret. But I never could keep one of any kind, state or otherwise. Even the congregation were not to know of this matter. The building committee were to leave it unmentioned in their report. But I got a hold of it, and from a member of that committee too. And I had rather part with one of my hind legs than keep still about it. The bathrooms are unquestionably to be built. And so why not tell it? In the second story of this third building will be the permanent home of the church missionary, a lady who constantly looks after the poor and sick of the church. Also a set of lodging and living-rooms for the janitors, or janitoresses, for they will be women. Mr. Beecher, holding that women are tidier and more efficient in such a position than men, and that they ought to dwell upon the premises and give them their undivided care. So on this second floor are to be six rooms to do duty as a church infirmary for the sick and poor of the congregation, this church having always supported and taken care of its own unfortunates, instead of leaving them to the public charity. In the infirmary will be kept one or two water beds, for invalids whose pains will not allow them to lie on a less-yielding substance, and half a dozen reclining invalid chairs on wheels. The water beds and invalid chairs at present belonging to the church are always in demand and never out of service. Part of the appurtenances of the new church will be a horse and an easy vehicle to be kept and driven by a janitor, and used wholly for giving the church's indigent invalids air and exercise. It is found that such an establishment is daily needed, so much so indeed, as to almost amount to a church necessity. The third story of this third building is to be occupied as the church-kitchen, and it is sensibly placed aloft, so that the ascending noises and boarding-house smells shall go up and aggravate the birds instead of the saints, except such of the latter as are above the clouds, and they can easily keep out of the way of it, no doubt. Dumb waiters will carry the food down to the church parlours instead of up. Why is it that nobody has thought of the simple wisdom of this arrangement before? Is it for a church to step forward to tell us how to get rid of kitchen smells and noises? If it be asked why the new church will need a kitchen, I remind the reader of the infirmary occupants, etc. They must eat, and, beside, social gatherings of members of this congregation, meet at the church parlours as often as three and four evenings a week, and so drink tea and guh guh. It commences with a G, I think, but somehow I cannot think of the word. The new church parlours will be large, and it is intended that these social gatherings shall be promoted and encouraged, and that they shall take an added phase. These, when several families want to indulge in a little reunion, and have not room in their small houses at home, they can have it in the church parlours. You will notice in every feature of this new church one predominant idea and purpose always discernible, the banding together of the congregation as a family, and the making of the church a home. You see it in the playroom, the library, the parlours, the baths, the infirmary. It is everywhere. It is the great central ruling idea. To entirely consummate such a thing would be impossible with nearly any other congregation in the union. But after sixteen years of molding and teaching, Mr. Beecher has made it wholly possible and practicable with this one. It is not stretching metaphor too far to say that he is the father of his people and his church, their mother. If the new church project is a curiosity, it is still but an inferior curiosity compared to the plan of raising the money for it.  I was going to say with a lunatic, but the success of the plan robs me of the opportunity. When it was decided to build a new church edifice at a cost of not less than forty thousand dollars, no more than fifty thousand dollars, for the membership is not three hundred and fifty strong, and there are not six men in it who can strictly be called rich, Mr. Beecher gave to each member a printed circular enclosed in an envelope prepaid and addressed to himself to be returned through the post office. Confidential. It is proposed to build a meeting-house and other rooms for the use of the church. To do this work honestly and well, it is proposed to spend one year in raising a part of the money in advance, and in getting plans and making contracts. One year, plans and contracts, April 1, 1871-1872. One year, build and cover in, April 1, 1872-1873. One year, plaster, finish and furnish, April 1, 1873-1874. One year, pay for in full and dedicate April 1, 1874-1875. It is proposed to expend not less than twenty thousand dollars, no more than fifty thousand dollars, according to the ability shown by the returns of these cards of confidential subscription. Any member of the church and congregation or any friend of the church is allowed and invited to subscribe, but no one is urged. T. K. Beecher, pastor. To help build our meeting-house, I think I shall be able to give, not less than, blank, and not more than, blank. Each year for four years, beginning April 1, 1871, or I can make in one payment, blank. Trusting in the Lord to help me, I hereby subscribe the same as noted above. Name? Residence. These subscriptions were to be wholly voluntary and strictly confidential. No one was to know the amount of a man's subscription except himself and the minister. Nobody was urged to give anything at all. All were simply invited to give whatever some they felt was right and just. Some ten cents upward, and no questions asked, no criticisms made, no revealments uttered. There was no possible chance for glory, for even though a man gave his whole fortune, nobody would ever know it. I do not know when anything has struck me as so utopian, so absurdly romantic, so ignorant on its face, of human nature, and so anybody would have thought. Parties said Mr. Beecher had educated his people, and that each would give as he privately felt able and not bother about the glory. I believed human nature to be a more potent educator than any minister, and that the result would show it. But I was wrong. At the end of a month or two, some two-thirds of the circulars had wended back one by one to the pastor silently and secretly through the post-office, and then, without mentioning the name of any giver, or the amount of his gift, Mr. Beecher announced from the pulpit that all the money needed was pledged, the certain amount being over forty-five thousand dollars, and the possible amount over fifty-three thousand dollars. When the remainder of the circulars have come in, it is confidently expected and believed that they will add to these amounts some of not less than ten thousand dollars. A great many subscriptions from children and working men consisted of cash enclosures ranging from a ten-cent currency stamp up to five, ten, and fifteen dollars. As I said before, the plan of levying the building tax and the success of the plan are much more curious and surprising than the exceedingly curious edifice the money is to create. The reason the monies are to be paid in four annual installments, for that is the plan, is partly to make the payments easy, but chiefly because the church is to be substantially built, and its several parts allowed time to settle and season each in its turn. For instance, the superstructures will be allowed a good part of the first year to settle and compact themselves after completion, the walls the second year, and so forth and so on. There is to be no work done by contract and no unseasoned wood used, the materials are to be sound and good, and honest, competent, conscientious workmen, Beecher says there are such, the opinion of the world to the contrary notwithstanding, hired at full wages, by the day, to put them together. The above statements are all true and genuine according to the oath I have already made there too, and which I am now about to repeat before a notary in legal form with my hand upon the book. Consequently we are going to have at least one sensible but very, very curious church in America. I am aware that I had no business to tell all these matters, but the reporter instinct was strong upon me, and I could not help it, and besides, they were in everybody's mouth in Elmira anyway. Buffalo June 1871 End of Section 4 July 23, 1871 A Real Church and A New Beecher Church, Read by John Greenman Section 5 of Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, 1867-1879 This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, Section 5, January 25, 1872 Mark Twain's Lecture, Roughing It, Read by John Greenman Mark Twain's Lecture Mark Twain delivered a meteorological, historical, topographical, geological, zoological, and comical lecture last night at Steinway Hall for the benefit of his hearers and the Mercantile Library Association. The effort, which seemed to require no effort at all on the part of the humorous storyteller, was all about roughing it, out in Nevada, the land of sage hens, Mexican bloods, mountain sheep, alkaline dust, and duels. The lecturer related his narrative to a crowded house. He was repeatedly applauded and won the sympathy of the audience when he said that he differed from George Washington, who could not tell a lie. As for me, said Twain, I can, but I won't. The lecture was a decided success and much gratified all who heard it. End of Section 5, January 25, 1872 Mark Twain's Lecture, Roughing It, Read by John Greenman Section 6 of Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, 1867 to 1879 This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, Section 6, November 26, 1872 Perils of the Sea, Read by John Greenman Perils of the Sea, Dismantling of a British Bark in a Hurricane Eleven men washed from the wreck and drowned. Sufferings of four others found in the rigging. Mark Twain's account of the rescue of the survivors. Destructive Gale on Saturday in the British Channel. Special Dispatch to the New York Times. Boston, November 25 The Cunard Steamship Batavia, Captain Moorland, arrived at this port today and reports that on 19 November, when in latitude 49 degrees 16 minutes north, longitude 41 degrees, 27 minutes west, she fell in with the British Bark Charles Ward of Newcastle, England, waterlogged and dismasted in a hurricane on the morning of the 18th, and took off the survivors of the Bark's compliment of 20 men, the other 11 having been washed off the wreck. Mark Twain, who was a passenger on the Batavia, addresses a communication to the Royal Human Society, giving a detailed account of the wreck, and bestowing the warmest praise on the officers of the Batavia. He says under date Wednesday, On Sunday night a strong west wind began to blow, and not long after midnight it increased to a gale. By four o'clock the sea was running very high. At seven-and-a-half hour starboard bowerks were stove in, and the water entered the main saloon. At a later hour the gangway on the port side came in with a crash, and the sea followed, flooding many of the state rooms on that side. At the same time a sea crossed the roof of the vessel, and carried away one of our boats, splintering it to pieces, and taking one of the davits with it. At nine-and-a-half the glass was down to twenty-eight-point-three-five, and the gale was blowing with a severity which the officers say is not experienced oftener than once in five or ten years. The storm continued during the day and all night, and also all day yesterday, but with moderated violence. At four p.m. a dismasted vessel was sighted. A furious squall had just broken upon us, and the sea was running mountains high to use the popular expression. Nevertheless Captain Morland immediately bore up for the wreck, which was making signals of distress, ordered out a lifeboat, and called for volunteers. To a landsman it seemed like deliberate suicide to go out in such a storm, but our third and fourth officers and eight men answered the call with a promptness that compelled a cheer. They carried a long line with them, several life-buoys, and a lighted lantern, for the atmosphere was murky with the storm, and sunset was not far off. The wreck, a bark, was in a pitiful condition. Her mizzen mast and her bowsprit were gone, and her foremast was but a stump wreathed and cumbered with a ruin of sails and cordage from the fallen foretop and foretop gallant masts and yards. We could see nine men clinging to the main rigging. The stern of the vessel was gone, and the sea made a clean breach over her, pouring in a cataract out of the broken stern, and spouting through the parted planks of her bows. Our boat pulled three hundred yards, and approached the wreck on the lee side. Then it had a hard fight, for the waves and the wind beat it constantly back. I do not know when anything has alternately so stirred me through and through, and then disheartened me, as it did to see the boat every little while get almost close enough, and then be hurled three lengths away again by a prodigious wave, and the darkness settling down all the time. But at last they got the line and buoy aboard, and after that we could make out nothing more. Presently we discovered the boat approaching us, and found she had saved every soul nine men. They had had to drag these men one at a time through the sea to the lifeboat with the line and buoy, for, of course, they did not dare to touch the plunging vessel with a boat. The peril increased now. For every time the boat got close to our lee, our ship rolled over on her and hid her from sight. But our people managed to haul the party aboard one at a time without losing a man. Well, I said they would lose every single one of them. I am therefore but a poor success as a prophet. As the fury of the squall had not diminished, and as the sea was so heavy, it was feared we might lose some men if we tried to hoist the lifeboat aboard, so she was turned adrift by the captain's order, poor thing, after helping in such a gallant deed. To speak by the log, and to be accurate, Captain Morland gave the order to change our ship's course and bear down toward the wreck at 4.14 p.m. At five and a quarter our ship was underway again with those nine poor devils on board. That is to say this admirable thing was done in a tremendous sea and in the face of a hurricane in sixty minutes by the watch, and if your honorable society could be moved to give to Captain Morland and his boat's crew that reward which assailor prizes and covets above all other distinctions, the Royal Humane Society's Medal, the parties whose names are attached to this paper will feel as grateful as if they themselves were the recipients of this great honour. The wrecked bark was the Charles Ward, Captain Bell, bound from Quebec to Scotland with lumber. The vessel went over on her beam ends at nine o'clock Monday morning, and eleven men were washed overboard and lost. Captain Bell and eight men remained, and these our boat saved. They had been in the main rigging some thirty-one hours without food or water, and were so frozen and exhausted that when we got them aboard they could hardly speak, and the minds of several of them were wandering. The wreck was out of the ordinary track of vessels and was fifteen hundred miles from land. She was in the centre of the Atlantic. Our lifeboat crew of volunteers consisted of the following D. Gillies, Third Officer, R. Kyle, Fourth Officer, Nicholas Foley, Quartermaster, Henry Foley, Quartermaster, Nathaniel Clark, Quartermaster, Thomas Henry, Seaman, John Park, Seaman, Richard Brennan, Seaman. After speaking of the enthusiasm of the passengers, Mark Twain continues, as might have been anticipated, if I have been of any service toward rescuing these nine shipwrecked human beings by standing around the deck in a furious storm without any umbrella, keeping an eye on things and seeing that they were done right, and yelling whenever a cheer seemed to be the important thing, I am glad, and I am satisfied. I ask no reward. I would do it again under the same circumstances, but what I do plead for, earnestly and sincerely, is that the Royal Humane Society will remember our captain and our lifeboat crew, and in so remembering them increase the high honor and esteem in which the society is held all over the civilized world. In this appeal our passengers all join, with hearty sincerity, and in testimony thereof will sign their names, begging that you will pardon me, a stranger, for addressing your honored society with such confidence and such absence of ceremony, and trusting that my motive may redeem my manner, I am, gentlemen, your obedient servant, signed, Mark Twain, Samuel L. Clemens, Hartford, Connecticut. Here follow the names of all the passengers among whom were Sidney D. Palmer, and Mr. and Mrs. E. G. Moss of New York, and James Hall, State Geologist of Albany. Mr. Clemens was Chairman of the Committee on Address, and C. C. Wallworth of the Meeting of Passengers. Mr. Clemens wrote a characteristic address, which was delivered to Captain Moreland. End of Section 6, November 26, 1872, Perils of the Sea, read by John Greenman. Section 7 of Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, 1867 to 1879. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Mark Twain at the New York Times, Part 1, Section 7, February 6, 1873. Mark Twain's Lecture on the Sandwich Islands. Review. Read by John Greenman. Mark Twain's Lecture on the Sandwich Islands. The inimitable Mark Twain delivered his lecture on the Sandwich Islands last night at Steinway Hall for the benefit of the Mercantile Library Association. The hall and balconies were crowded to excess. Every seat was occupied, and the centre and side passages were literally packed with persons who could not procure seats. The lecturer on being introduced assured the audience that he felt himself fully competent to speak of the interesting locality to which public attention has been lately directed, having spent several months on the islands. They were situated about 2,100 miles south-west of San Francisco, but why they were put in such an out-of-the-way locality he never could ascertain. The geological structure of the group of islands was described in the dry, caustic style for which Twain is celebrated. The visit of the whites introduced civilization and education and killed out the natives. The latest reliable information fixes the population at 50,000, and when the benevolent foreigners start a few more seminaries it is to be hoped that that event will materially help to kill off the remainder of the native population. The females wear a long robe, the gentlemen generally wear a smile and a pair of spectacles. The humorous description of the king and nobility kept the audience convulsed with laughter. It was not to be supposed that the natives were ignorant of scripture history, that they had some idea of the fall of Eve. Mr. Twain proved by stating that it was death for a woman to eat any fruit of the island, probably they did not wish to give woman a second chance. The American Missionary Society had started schools and introduced printing, and, owing to their exertions, there was not a single uneducated native above eighteen years old on the island, and the nation was about the best educated in the world. The expense of the mission was paid by the Sunday School Children of America, and Mr. Twain mentioned the fact that some thirty years ago he invested two dollars in the speculation. Of course he did not mind the money, nor did he wish to show off. The incident was referred to as an instance of confiding humanity, and he hoped it would have its effect on the house. The natives are very hospitable, and feast their guests on roast dog and fricasseed cat, the ordinary American sausage stripped of its mystery. The dog was the pet of the household, and the constant companion of the family, and when fit for the table, was killed and served up. Mr. Twain had no decided objection to the dish, but he did not relish the idea of eating a personal friend. There were no cannibals to the Sandwich Islands. True, one addicted to that barbarous custom settled on one of the group, and getting tired of digesting natives, he resolved to try a white man with onions. This savage succeeded in capturing the captain of a whaling ship, a tough old salt, who had spent fifty years at sea, living on shark steaks and blubber, but he proved too much for the digestive organs of the interesting native, and he died of the feast, with the crime on his conscience and the whaler in his stomach. The various peculiarities of the Canucks were described by Mr. Twain, who interspersed his discourse with humorous sketches and witty allusions to the topics of the day, which kept his audience in a continuous roar of laughter. His attitudes, gestures, and looks, even his very silence, were provocative of mirth. The lecture will be repeated on Monday evening. The end of Section 7, February 6, 1873, Mark Twain's lecture on the Sandwich Islands. Review. Read by John Greenman. Section 8 of Mark Twain in the New York Times. Part 1, 1867-1879. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, Section 8, June 11, 1873. Mark Twain, An Interesting Question in Trademark. The Innocent at Law. Read by John Greenman. An Interesting Question in Trademark. The Innocent at Law. In Supreme Court Chambers yesterday, before Chief Justice Ingram, an interesting question came up as to the right of an author to the exclusive use of his nom de plume as a trademark. A short time since, on the application of Mr. Simon Stern, counsel for Samuel L. Clemens, known as Mark Twain, a temporary injunction was granted restraining J.B. Such from publishing a certain advertising medium in the form of a book entitled Fun, Fact, and Fancy. Yesterday argument was had on the return of the order to show cause why the injunction should not be made permanent. It appeared from the affidavit of Mark, and argument of his counsel, that about a month since the defendant applied to him to write a sketch for an advertising pamphlet the applicant was about to publish. Offering therefore one thousand dollars, or as much more as was asked, defendant stating that other prominent authors and humorists had agreed to contribute. Mark informed the stranger that he was too busy to do so, but offered to assist him so far as to give him permission to publish any one of several sketches which he then and there marked in a printed volume of his sketches. About a month subsequently, while traveling by the Erie Railway, on his way to take steamer for Europe, Mark had a book thrust upon him by the newsboy containing five of his sketches, and on the title page the following. Revised and selected for this work by Mark Twain, having no connection with the book other than as already stated, this method of treatment, after his liberality, aroused the ire of the innocent, and the present suit was the result. It is claimed on behalf of the plaintive that he has a vested right as against all the world in his nom de plume, Mark Twain, that such right is guaranteed to him by the laws relating to trademark, and that defendant, and all parties claiming through or under him, should be perpetually restrained from the use thereof. After an elaborate argument by Mr. Simon Stern on behalf of plaintive and Mr. Charles Matthews on the part of defendant, Judge Ingram took the papers, saying he would render a decision in a few days. End of Section 8, June 11, 1873, Mark Twain, an interesting question in trademark, The Innocence at Law, read by John Greenman. Section 9 of Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, 1867 to 1879, this LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, Section 9, June 12, 1873, Mark Twain's suit. He obtains a permanent injunction. Read by John Greenman. Mark Twain's suit. He obtains a permanent injunction. In the case of Samuel L. Clemens, known as Mark Twain, against Benjamin J. Such, to restrain by injunction the publication of a book containing some of the former sketches, and purporting to have been revised by him, the facts of which appeared in yesterday's Times, Chief Justice Ingram has ordered a permanent injunction to issue against the defendant. In a brief memorandum endorsed on the papers in the case, the Chief Justice says, The sketches were the property of plaintive, and he is entitled to an order restraining their publication without his consent. The agreement only contemplated the use of one sketch, and there was no authority to publish that one, as revised by the author. End of Section 9, June 12, 1873, Mark Twain's suit. He obtains a permanent injunction. Read by John Greenman. Section 10 of Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, 1867 to 1879. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, Section 10, September 17, 1874. Amusements, Park Theatre. Read by John Greenman. Amusements, Park Theatre. Mark Twain's drama, called The Gilded Age, was represented at this house last evening. The Gilded Age is a play dealing with possible incidents of American life, and in which none but American characters move. We have recorded so many unsuccessful efforts to produce a passable piece of this sort that we confess to having awaited Mr. Twain's performance with a very slight anticipation of its excellence. It disappointed us, we are glad to say, most agreeably. The Gilded Age is by no means a model drama, but it enfolds a tolerably interesting story, several scenes of which might be acted off the stage, and some personages whose traits are no more exaggerated than is necessary for their effectiveness upon the audience. A large assemblage witnessed its recital, and accorded to it attention and applause. The plot of The Gilded Age is of extreme simplicity. It sets forth plainly that Colonel George Selby, a married man, has seduced Laura Hawkins, and that the young lady, as the prototype supplied by recent American history, soon afterward kills her seducer and goes unpunished. There is sufficient dramatic force in these events for the framework in which the minor transactions of the play are bound, and out of them grows at least one impressive picture, the slaying of Colonel Selby by Laura Hawkins. Certainly it is, however, that the Gilded Age pleased chiefly on account of a character not at all essential to the main story. The comicalities of Colonel Sellers kept the spectators merry throughout the whole for acts. This personage has been compared to Maccabre, but Maccabre's imagination is feeble compared to that of Colonel Sellers, and for breadth and rosiness the plans developed by the Western settler are literally unprecedented. Utterly insane as some of Colonel Sellers' theories appeared, everybody present recognized that in real life Colonel Sellers has many relatives as visionary and as sanguine as he, and the occasional touches of nature proved, as always, very potent. Mr. John Raymond assumed this role with an earnestness which ensured his success. He evidently deceived himself with his splendid projects more thoroughly than he managed to deceive the most credulous of his listeners, and the perfect heartiness of all his speeches, together with the absence of self- consciousness in his wildest eccentricities, rendered his personation as artistic as it was striking. The merryment was loud and continuous. The interest of the serious transactions of the night would have been much heightened had the company been more efficient. The one trying scene in the Gilded Age, however, was exceedingly well performed by Miss Gertrude Kellogg. Frequent plaudits interrupted the representation in an intermission of which Mr. Twain was summoned before the curtain, whence he delivered an address that afforded considerable amusement. The Gilded Age remains on the bills until further notice. End of Section 10, September 17, 1874, Amusements, Park Theatre, read by John Greenman. Section 11 of Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, 1867-1879. Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, Section 11, November 29, 1874, Socialable Jimmy, read by John Greenman. Socialable Jimmy. I sent the following home, in a private letter some time ago, from a certain little village. It was in the days when I was a public lecturer. I did it because I wished to preserve the memory of the most artless, sociable, and exhaustless talker I ever came across. He did not tell me a single remarkable thing, or one that was worth remembering. And yet he was himself so interested in his small marvels, and they flowed so naturally and comfortably from his lips that his talk got the upper hand of my interest too. And I listened as one who receives a revelation. I took down what he had to say, just as he said it, without altering a word or adding one.  I said, What is your name, my boy? They calls me Jimmy, sir, but rat-name's James, ah? I said, Sit down there, Jimmy. I'll not want you just yet. He sat down in a big-arm chair, hung both his legs over one of the arms, and looked comfortable and conversational. I said, Did you have a pleasant Christmas, Jimmy? No, sir, not exactly. I was kind of sick then. But the rest of people, they had a good time. Most all of them had a good time. They all got drunk. They all get drunk here every Christmas, and carries on as awful good times. So you were sick and lost at all. But unless you were very sick, I should think that if you had asked the doctor, he might have let you get a little drunk. And oh, no, sir, I don't never get drunk. It's the white folks. Them's the ones I mean. Pi used to get drunk. But that was before I was big. But he's done quit. He don't get drunk in the morning now. Just takes one sip in the morning now, because his stomach rise up. He sleeps so sound. Just one sip over to the sloon every morning. He's powerful, sickly, powerful. Sometimes can't hardly get around. He can't. He goes to the doctor every week over to Ragtown.  Ain't it just your blue vitals that's pison? Ain't that it? Truck what you pisons cats with? Yes, blue vitals, vitriol, is a very convincing article with a cat. Well, then that was it. The old man he took the bottle and shook it and shook it. He said it was blue. He didn't know. But it was blue mass, which he took most always, blue mass pills. But then he expected maybe this year truck might be some other kind of old blue stuff. And so he sat the bottle down and tried if it weren't blue vitals shown off when the doctor come and the doctor he say, if he did that blue vitals, it would have histed him. Sure. People can't be too particular about such things. Yes, indeed. We ain't got no cats here about this hotel. Bill, he don't like him. He can't stand a cat no way. If he was to catch one, he'd slam it out in the window in a minute. Yes, he would. Bill's down on cats. So is the gals, waiter gals. When they catches a cat bumming around here, they just scoops him. Did they do? They snake him into the cistern. He's been cats drowned in that water that's in your picture. I see the cat in there yesterday. All swelled up like a pudding. I bet you them gals done that. Ma says if they was to drown the cat for her, the first one of them she catched, she'd jam her into the cistern along with the cat. Ma wouldn't do that, I don't reckon. But deed and double, she said she would.  Well, I can wring its neck off, because that don't make him no suffering, ghastly. But I can't take and chop their heads off, like some people can. Makes me feel so, so, well, I can see that chicken night so I can't sleep. Mr. Dunlap, he's the richest man in this town. Some people says there's four thousand people in this town, this city. But Bill says, ain't but about thirty three hundred. And Bill, he knows, because he's lived here all his life, though they do say he won't never get set the river on fire. I don't know how they find out. I wouldn't like to count all them people. Some folks says this town would be considerable bigger if it weren't on the counts of so much land all round it that ain't got no houses on it. This in perfect seriousness. Dense simplicity, no idea of a joke. I reckon you see that church as you come along up street. That's an awful big church, awful high steeple, and it's all solid stone, except just the top part, the steeple, I mean, that's wood. It falls off when the wind blows booty-hard, and one time it stuck in a cow's back and busted a cow all to mischief.  A man, big man he was, bigger than what Bill is, he tuck it up there and fixed it again. He didn't look no bigger than a boy. He was so high up. That steeple's awful high. If you look out the window you can see it. I looked out and was speechless with awe and admiration, which gratified Jimmy beyond expression. Wonderful steeple was some sixty or seventy feet high and had a clock face on it. You see that arrow on top of that steeple? Well, that arrow is pretty high as big as this door. I see it when they pulled it out into the cow. It must be awful to stand in that steeple when the clock is striking. They say it is. Booms and jars. So you think the world's coming to an end. I wouldn't like to be up there when the clocks are striking and that clock ain't just a striker like these common clocks. It's a bell. It's a regular bell and it's a buster. You can hear that bell all over this city. You ought to hear it boom, boom, boom when there's a fire. My sakes, they ain't got no bell like that in Ragtown. I've been to Ragtown. I've been most halfway to Dockery, thirty miles. The bell in Ragtown's got sold now. She don't make no sound scarcely. Enter the landlord, a kindly man, verging toward fifty. My small friend, without changing position, says, Bill, didn't you say that there was only thirty-three hundred people in this city? Yes, about thirty-three hundred is the population now. Well, some folks says there's four thousand. Yes, I know they do, but it isn't correct.  Yes, that's right, he ordered it. Exit Bill, leaving me comfortable, for I had been perishing to know who Bill was. Bill, he's the oldest, and he's the best, too. There's fourteen in this family, all boys and gals. Bill, he spouts them all, and he'd never complain he's real good, Bill is. All them brothers and sisters of his ain't no account. All except that little teeny one that fetched in that milk. That's Kit, Si. She ain't only nine-year-old, but she's the most ladylike one in the whole building. You don't never see Kit riring and charging round and kicking up her heels like the rest of the gals in this family does, generally. That was Nan that you hear in cutting them shins on piano a while ago, and sometimes if she don't rustle that piano when she gets started. Tab can't hold a candle to her. But Tab can sing like the very nation. She's the only one in this family that can sing. You don't never hear a yelp out in Nan. Nan can't sing for shucks. I just leave here a tomcat that's got squalded. There's fourteen in this family, besides the old man and the old woman. All brothers and sisters. But some one don't live here. Though Bill, he spouts them, lends them money, and pays debts and heaps them long. Tell you, Bill, he's real good. They all get drunk, all except Bill. The old man, he gets drunk too, same as the rest of them. Bob, he don't get drunk much. Just sloshes round to slune some and takes a dram sometimes. Bob, he's next to Bill, about forty years old. They's all married, all the family's married, some of the gals. There's fourteen. It's the biggest family in these parts, they say. There's Bill, Bill Nubbles. Nubbles is the name. Bill and Greg and Duke and Bob and Nan and Tab and Kit and Saul and Psy and Phil and Puss and Jake and Sal. Sal, she's married and got chillin' as big as eyes. And Hoss Nubbles, he's the last. Hoss is what they most always call him, but he's got another name that I somehow just remember. It's so kinda hard to get the hang of it. Then observing that I had been taking down the extraordinary list of nicknames for adults, he said, but in the morning I can ask Bill what's Hoss's other name, and then I'll come up and tell you when Fetch is your breakfast. And maybe I done got some of them names mixed up, but Bill, he can tell me. Days fourteen. By this time he was starting off with a waiter and a pecuniary consideration for his sociability. And as he went out he paused a moment and said, Dad Fetch it, somehow that other name don't come. But anyways, you just read them names over and see if days fourteen. I read the list from the flyleaf of Longfellow's New England tragedies. That's right, Sa, days all down. I'll fetch up Hoss's other name in their moan and Sa, don't you be on easy. Exit, whistling, listen to the mockingbird. End of Section 11, November 29, 1874, Sociable Jimmy, read by John Greenman. Section 12 of Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, 1867 to 1879. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Mark Twain in the New York Times, Part 1, Section 12, December 24, 1874, Amusements, the one-hundredth representation of the Gilded Age, read by John Greenman. Amusements, the one-hundredth representation of the Gilded Age. The Park Theatre was literally crammed from pit to dome last evening on the occasion of the one-hundredth representation of Mark Twain's American drama of the Gilded Age, the interest which of late has been associated with the effort to establish a purely American drama representing American character in its various existing phases, and Racy of the Soil, has centered around the production of the Gilded Age, and the success of the play has been a cause of general gratification. Since its first recital, the piece has received every evidence of public appreciation, and the quaint eccentricities of good-natured and wildly speculative Colonel Sellers, with his visionary schemes for the creation of millions, have secured for themselves a permanent place in the memory of theatre-goers. The performance last evening was distinguished by several novel features, and bouquets and satin programs were distributed in celebration of the occasion. The piece was played as usual, and in response to repeated calls, the author, Mr. Samuel L. Clemens, better known as Mark Twain, delivered an address, replete with humor and speech and gesture. He warmly expressed his sense of gratitude for the public appreciation of the play, and on retiring he was loudly cheered. Mr. John T. Raymond also expressed the gratitude of the actors for the recognition their efforts to please had received, and generously attributed the success of the piece not to any merit of his own, but to the excellence inherent to the play itself. After the fourth act, Mark Twain was called before the curtain and was loudly applauded. He said, Ladies and Gentlemen, I thank you for this call, for it gives me an opportunity to testify my appreciation of the vast complement which the metropolis has paid to Mr. Raymond and me in approving of our efforts to the very substantial extent of filling this house for us a hundred nights in succession. After such praise as this from the first city in the land, it would be useless for me to try to pretend that we are not feeling a good deal set up, so I shall not pretend anything of the kind. We feel a good deal vainer than anybody would want to confess, laughter. I learned through the newspapers that I was to make a speech here tonight, and so I went hard to work, as I always do, to try and do the very best I possibly could on this occasion. I was determined to do it. I went at it faithfully, but when I came to look critically into this matter, I found that I shouldered a pretty heavy contract, laughter. I found I shouldered a very heavy contract because there is only one topic that is proper to be discussed on this platform at this time, and that is this play and these actors and all the success which this play has met. Very well, that is an excellent subject for somebody else, laughter. It is right for an outsider or for somebody not connected with the concern, but for me, the dramatist, to praise these actors of mine, to praise this play of mine and this success of ours, that would not come gracefully from me. There would be a little egotism in it. Neither can I criticize and abuse the actors for I don't want to. I could abuse the play, but I have better judgment, laughter and applause, and I cannot praise these actors of mine right here in their hearing and before their faces, for that would make anybody with flesh and blood and happy, and indeed to praise them would be like praising the members of my own family and glorifying the lady who does our washing, laughter. And the more I think of this matter, the more I see the difficulty of the position, until I find myself in a condition I once before experienced. Mr. Twain here recited from his published work, Roughing It, The Sketch, A Genuine Mexican Plug, in a spirit of dry humor which convulsed the audience with laughter. The incident referred to as his unhappy experience with a Mexican horse in which he came to grief. Through that adventure, he continued, through the misfortune I lost the faculty of speech. For twenty-four hours I was absolutely speechless, and this is the second time that that has occurred. Applauds. Mr. John T. Raymond, the Colonel Sellers of the piece, was loudly called before the curtain. He quickly appeared with the expression of Sellers when proclaiming a prospective gain of millions, and his manner provoked much merriment. He said, Ladies and gentlemen, after acting one hundred nights in this house, I don't feel like playing a new part and playing it badly, which I certainly should if I attempted to say I was not very much pleased at the reception you have given me. It is not a very grateful or easy task to try to be funny or witty after Mr. Twain, but any man would be happy on such an occasion as this, and after what you have done for me, why should I not be happy? I want to thank you for a great many things, but especially for your constant appreciation of my efforts to please. Of one thing I can assure you that Mr. Twain's play would not have amounted to much if he had not found a man to act the part and other men to appreciate it. Laughter. That was such a success. I don't know what next to say. Laugh. But I want to thank you over and over again for your kind recognition of our labours. The success of this piece is due to the management of the theatre, and I beg here to publicly thank Mrs. Stewart and Fulton for their efforts to do everything toward the success of the play. Applauds. The Little Park Theatre is now one of the institutions of the city, and I am heartily glad of it for Mr. Stewart's sake. He deserves it, and I trust that Colonel Sellers will be one of the institutions of your country, and if the people of the United States treat me half as well as you have done, I am perfectly satisfied it will be all right. Once more, let me thank you. Let me extend my sincere acknowledgements to the genius who conceived the character of Colonel Sellers, to the generous public who have welcomed it, and to the press which has recognized so liberally all our efforts to give proper effect to American character and place it on a self-sustaining basis. Applauds. Mr. Raymond was retiring when a bottle of Colonel Sellers' famous Oriental Optical Eye Water was presented to him. He took it and said, Take it internally, externally, and eternally, and there is millions in it. Laughter and applause. Mr. Stewart, the manager, was also called for, but did not appear, and the performance then continued. End of Section 12, December 24, 1874, Amusements, the one-hundredth representation of the Gilded Age, read by John Greenman. Section 13 of Mark Twain in The New York Times, Part 1, 1867-1879. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Mark Twain in The New York Times, Part 1, Section 13, April 29, 1875, Proposed Shakespearean Memorial, read by John Greenman. Proposed Shakespearean Memorial. To the editor of The New York Times. I have just received a letter from an English friend of mine whose hospitality I enjoyed some days at his house in Stratford on Avon, and I feel sure that the matter he writes about will interest Americans. He encloses a circular, which I will insert in this place. A preliminary committee was recently formed for the purpose of ascertaining the possibility of carrying out the project of a Shakespeare Memorial Theatre in Stratford on Avon, the old theatre in the town having been purchased and pulled down by Mr. J. O. Hallowell Phillips, for the purpose of restoring the site to new place and completing those gardens. A meeting was held at the town hall on Monday to receive the committee's report. Sir Robert N. C. Hamilton, Bart, K. C. B., was in the chair. The Honourable Secretary, Mr. C. E. Flower, stated that the proposal had been most favourably received, and the committee recommended that the theatre should be erected by subscription, and any sum raised beyond the amount required for the building, and any profit realised by the rental on ordinary occasions to be applied after defraying the necessary expenses of the establishment, to the celebration of the anniversary of the poet's birthday, and to the promotion and improvement of legitimate acting by the establishment of prizes for essays upon the subject, lectures and ultimately a dramatic training school or a college. The building to be erected upon a site which has been given for the purpose, the surrounding ground from which beautiful views of the church and the river can be obtained, to be laid out as ornamental gardens. Connected with the theatre, the committee also recommended that a library and saloon or gallery intended to receive pictures and statuary of Shakespearean subjects, several of which have been already promised, should be provided, donors of one hundred pounds and upward to be governors and managers of the property, the governors to meet annually and vote personally or by proxy for the election of the Executive Council and frame rules for the general management of the memorial property and funds. For convenience of administration the association to be incorporated under Section 23 of the Companies Act, 1867, for associations formed not for profit but for the promotion of science, art, etc. The report was unanimously adopted, a list of promised donations to the amount of two thousand five hundred and sixty three pounds, ten shillings, was read, and generous offers from managers and members of the theatrical profession of free performances were announced. Subscriptions of the smallest amount will be received, and it is hoped that a truly appropriate memorial to Shakespeare in his native town will receive the support of many in all parts of the world who have received instruction and pleasure from his works. By another circular I perceive that this project, young as it is, is already becoming popular, for no less than twenty-two lovers of Shakespeare have come forward with their one hundred pounds apiece and assumed the dignity of governors of the memorial theatre. In this list I find the following. Kreswick, the actor. F. B. Chatterton, of the Jury Lane London. Benjamin Webster, of the Adelphi London. Buxton, the comedian, and Mr. Southern. I now come to my point, which will be found in this extract from my English friend's letter. You may possibly remember some timber wars on the Avon above my garden. These I have bought and given for a sight for a memorial theatre. I think it possible that some Americans who have visited Stratford might be able and feel inclined to become governors, that is, one hundred pound shareholders, in the memorial theatre and grounds, and that others not so well off might like to contribute smaller sums to help beautify it. Therefore he asks me to make the suggestion in point here, and I very gladly do it. I think the mere suggestion is all that is necessary. We are not likely to be backward when called upon to do honour to Shakespeare. One of the circulars says, Subscriptions can be paid to the Shakespeare Memorial Fund at the old bank, Stratford upon Avon, and will be invested in the names of Sir R. N. C. Hamilton, Bart, and C. E. Flower Esquire, who have consented to act as trustees until the registration is completed. Will you, sir, undertake to receive and forward the American subscriptions, or if not, will you kindly name some responsible person who will do it? I believe that Americans of every walk in life will cheerfully subscribe to this Shakespeare memorial. I think that some of our prominent actors, I could almost name them, will come forward and enroll themselves as governors. I think our commercial millionaires and literary people will not be slow to take governorships, or at least come as near as they feel able, and I think it altogether likely that many of our theatres, like those of England, will give it a benefit. Americans have already subscribed one thousand pounds for an American memorial window to be put in the Shakespeare Church at Avon. About three-fourths of the visitors to Shakespeare's tomb are Americans. If you will show me any American who has visited England and has not seen that tomb, Barnum shall be on his track next week. It was an American who roused into its present vigorous life England's dead interest in her Shakespearean remains. Think of that. Imagine the house that Shakespeare was born in being brought bodily over here and set up on American soil. That came within an ace of being done once. A reputable gentleman of Stratford told me so. The old building was going to reckon ruin. Nobody felt quite reverence enough for the dead dramatist to repair and take care of his house. So an American came along ever so quietly and bought it. The deeds were actually drawn and ready for the signatures. Then the thing got wind, and there was a fine stir in England. The sale was stopped. Public spirited Englishmen headed a revival of reverence for the poet, and from that day to this every relic of Shakespeare in Stratford has been sacred and zealously cared for accordingly. Can you name the American who once owned Shakespeare's birthplace for twenty-four hours? There is but one who could ever have conceived of such a unique and ingenious enterprise, and he is the man I refer to—P.T. Barnum. We had to lose the house, but let us not lose the present opportunity to help him build the Memorial Theatre. Mark Twain Hartford Monday, April 26, 1875 End of Section 13, April 29, 1875 Proposed Shakespeare Memorial Read by John Greenman Section 14 of Mark Twain in The New York Times Part 1, 1867 to 1879 This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Mark Twain in The New York Times, Part 1, Section 14 October 1st, 1875 A Persistent Beggar Mark Twain relates his experiences with a Professor of the Art Read by John Greenman A Persistent Beggar Mark Twain relates his experiences with a Professor of the Art Mark Twain in a letter to the Hartford current relates his experiences with a Professor of the Begging Art and offers a solicitor for a Southern educational project, a first-rate opportunity to prove the merits of his cause He says To the editor of the current Sir, I have been unjust to a stranger today or unfaithful to my duty as a citizen I cannot yet determine which I wish now to write that stranger if I have wronged him and I wish also to retrieve my citizenship Here are the facts in the case Yesterday evening while I was at dinner a card was brought to me bearing the inscription Professor A B I said I do not know the Professor ask him to excuse me and if he should chance to call again tell him to drop me a line through the post office and state his business Experience has taught me that strangers never call upon a man with any other desire than to sell him a lightning rod and experience has also taught me that if you suggest the post to these parties they respect your sagacity and do not trouble you any more But the Professor called again this morning at ten o'clock and sent up a couple of documents documents so conspicuously dirty that it would be only fair and right to tax them as real estate One of these papers was a petition for aid to establish a school in a Southern state The petitioner justifying his appeal upon the ground that he had suffered for his union sentiments in that state during the war The supplication was signed A B Late candidate for the legislature of said state It seemed to me that of all the mild honors I had ever heard of men claiming that of defeated candidate for legislative distinction was certainly the mildest Peering into the dirt of this paper I perceived through the rich gloom a string of names with ten dollars twenty five dollars fifty dollars one hundred dollars and other sums said opposite them several were well-known Hartford names others were familiar New York names a few seem to be autograph signatures the rest not Honorable Peter Cooper was down for a generous sum So also was Honorable W. C. Bryant both in a foreign hand Just think of the idea of trying to add dignity to the old poet's name by sticking that poultry on to it I turned to the late candidates other soiled document It was a letter sheet with half a dozen grimy notices from village newspapers pasted on it These were all highly complimentary to Honorable A.B. The great English Elocutionist and Reader There was also gratuitous mention of the smallness of one of the audience he had enchanted A remark which might as well have been left out I said to myself last night this person was Professor A.B. In his petition he is late candidate for a legislature When he travels as the great English Elocutionist he is Honorable A.B. What he is professor of does not appear he does not account for his title of Honorable For merely running for that dazzling legislative position does not confer the title He could not have brought it from England for only certain officials and the younger sons of Noblemen are permitted to use it there and if he belonged to either of those lists He is not the person to forget to mention it About this time my cold in the head gave my temper a wrench and I said Go and tell the professor I don't wish to invest in his educational stock Now there is where I acted precipitately And failed of my duty either as a citizen or toward this stranger I ought to have looked into his case a little By jumping to the conclusion that he was a fraud I may possibly have wronged him If he is a fraud I ought to have proved it on him and exposed him That being the plain duty of a citizen in such cases Very well. Having committed this error I now wish to retrieve it So I make the following proposition to Mr. A.B. to it That he send me that list of names again so that I can write to the parties and inquire If they ever gave those sums and if they did what proofs they had of A.B.'s worthiness That he refer me to reputable persons in that southern state To the end that I may inquire of them concerning his history there Not that I wish to inquire into his late candidacy For I think that when a man has unsuccessfully aspired to be a legislator And is capable of mentioning it where people could not otherwise find it out He is manifestly telling the petrified truth That he refer me to a trustworthy authority who can inform me How he got the title of professor How he got the title of honourable And what the name of his English birthplace is So that I can have this parish register examined These data being furnished me and I finding by means of them that A.B. is not an impostor I will take stock in his school and also furnish him a certificate of character Which shall be signed by some of the best men of Hartford A certificate which shall far outvalue his present lame documents But if A.B.'s references shall fail to establish his worthiness I will publish him and also try to procure his arrest as a vagrant I will assist A.B. all I can By enclosing copies of his article to Mr. Austin Dunham Mr. William E. Dodge Mr. Bryant Mr. Peter Cooper Mr. Arnold Constable and Company And other parties in his list Including the officials of the Southern City he mentions To the end that they may quickly testify in his favour if they can I remember now that A.B. called on me just a year ago And that he was then adding to his name The imperishable glory of late candidate Etc Mark Twain End of Section 14 October 1st, 1875 A Persistent Vaguer Read by John Greenman Section 15 of Mark Twain in The New York Times Part 1, 1867-1879 This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Mark Twain in The New York Times Part 1, Section 15 December 9th, 1875 Mark Twain's Contribution Read by John Greenman Mark Twain's Contribution A book of autographs offered for sale at the Massachusetts Infant Asylum Fair in Boston Contains a letter from Mark Twain which reads Hartford, October 5th, 1875 Dear Madam, I beg to wish the best success And a long career of usefulness to the Infant Asylum Fair But words are empty Deeds are what show the earnest spirit Therefore I am willing to be one of a thousand citizens Who shall agree to contribute two or more of their children To this enterprise I do not make this offer in order that I may appear Gaudy or lavish in the eyes of the world But only to help a worthy cause to the best of my ability Very truly yours Samuel L. Clemens Mark Twain End of Section 15, December 9th, 1875 Mark Twain's Contribution Read by John Greenman Section 16 of Mark Twain in The New York Times Part 1, 1867-1879 This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Mark Twain in The New York Times, Part 1, Section 16 March 19th, 1876 Mark Twain on St. Patrick Read by John Greenman Mark Twain on St. Patrick The following letter was read at the supper of the Knights of St. Patrick in Hartford, Connecticut on Friday night Hartford, March 16th Richard McLeod, Esquire Dear sir, I am very sorry that I cannot be with the Knights of St. Patrick tomorrow evening In this centennial year we ought all to find a peculiar pleasure in doing honor to the memory of a man whose good name has endured through 14 centuries We ought to find pleasure in it for the reason that at this time we naturally have a fellow feeling for such a man He wrought a great work in his day He found Ireland a prosperous Republic And looked about him to see if he might find some useful thing to turn his hand to He observed that the President of that Republic was in the habit of sheltering his great officials from deserved punishment So he lifted up his staff and smote him And he died He found that the Secretary of War had been so unbecomingly economical as to have laid up $12,000 a year out of a salary of $8,000 And he killed him He found that the Secretary of the Interior always prayed over every separate and distinct barrel of salt-beef that was intended for the unconverted savage and then kept that beef himself So he killed him also He found that the Secretary of the Navy knew more about handling suspicious claims than he did about handling a ship and he at once made an end of him He found that a very foul Private Secretary had been engineered through a sham trial So he destroyed him He discovered that the Congress which pretended to prodigious virtue was very anxious to investigate an Ambassador who had dishonored the country abroad but was equally anxious to prevent the appointment of any spotless man to a similar post that this Congress had no God but party no system of morals but party policy no vision but a bat's vision and no reason or excuse for existing anyhow Therefore he massacred that Congress to the last man When he finished his great work he said in his figuratively way, Lo, I have destroyed all the reptiles in Ireland St. Patrick had no politics His sympathies lay with the right That was politics enough When he came across a reptile he forgot to inquire whether he was a Democrat or a Republican but simply exalted his staff and let him have it Honored be his name I wish we had him here to trim us up for the centennial But that cannot be His staff, which was the symbol of real not sham reform, is idle However, we still have with us the symbol of truth George Washington's little hatchet for I know they've buried it Yours truly S. L. Clemens End of Section 16 March 19, 1876 Mark Twain on St. Patrick Read by John Greenman Section 17 of Mark Twain in the New York Times Part 1 1867 to 1879 This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Mark Twain in the New York Times Part 1 Section 17 October 2, 1876 Mark Twain in Politics Read by John Greenman Mark Twain in Politics He presides at a great Republican meeting at Hartford He thinks at a time for literary men to come out from their studies and work for Hayes and Wheeler Special dispatch to the New York Times Hartford, October 1st The Republican meeting in this city last night was great both in attendance and enthusiasm Beforehand there was a fine torch-light parade of boys in blue The meeting was presided over by Samuel L. Clemens Mark Twain It was his introduction on the political rostrum and he was received with much favor He spoke as follows Ladies and gentlemen I feel very greatly honored in being chosen to preside at this meeting This employment is new to me I never have taken any part in a political canvas before except to vote The tribe of which I am the humblest member the literary tribe is one which is not given to bothering about politics but there are times when even the strangest departures are justified and such a season I take it is the present canvas Someone asked me the other day why it was that nearly all the people who write books and magazines had lately come to the front and proclaimed their political preference since such a thing had probably never occurred before in America and why it was that almost all of this strange new band of volunteers marched under the banner of Hayes and Wheeler I think these people have come to the front mainly because they think they see at last a chance to make this government a good government because they think they see a chance to institute an honest and sensible system of civil service which will so amply prove its worth and worthiness that no succeeding president can ever venture to put his foot upon it our present civil system born of general Jackson and the democratic party is so idiotic so contemptible so grotesque that it would make the very savages of Dahomey jeer and the very gods of solemnity laugh we will not hire a blacksmith who never lifted a sledge we will not hire a school teacher who does not know the alphabet we will not have a man about us in our business life in any walk of life low or high unless he has served an apprenticeship and can prove that he is capable of doing the work he offers to do we even require a plumber to know something laughter and a pause by the speaker about his business renewed laughter so that he shall at least know which side of a pipe is the inside roars of laughter but when you come to our civil service we serenely fill great numbers of our minor public offices with ignoramuses we put the vast business of a custom house in the hands of a flathead who does not know a bill of lading from a transit of venus laughter and a pause never having heard of either of them before laughter under a treasury appointment we pour oceans of money and accompanying statistics through the hands and brain of an ignorant villager who never before could wrestle with a two weeks wash bill without getting thrown great laughter under our consular system we send creatures all over the world who speak no language but their own and even when it comes to that go waiting all their days through the floods of moods and tenses and flourishing the scalps of mutilated parts of speech when forced to it we order home a foreign ambassador who is frescoed all over with indiscreetnesses laughter but we immediately send one in his place whose moral ceiling has a perceptible shady tint to it and then he braze when we supposed he was going to roar we carefully train and educate our naval officers and military men and we ripen and perfect their capabilities through long service and experience and keep hold of these excellent servants through a just system of promotion this is exactly what we hope to do with our civil service under mr haze applause we hope and expect to sever that service as utterly from politics as is the naval and military service and we hope to make it as respectable too we hope to make worth and capacity the sole requirements of the civil service in the place of the amount of party dirty work the candidate has done by the time general holly has finished his speech i think you will know why we in this matter put our trust in haze in preference to any other man i am not going to say anything about our candidates for state offices because you know them honor them and will vote for them but general holly being comparatively a stranger i will say a single word in commendation of him and it will furnish one of the many reasons why i am going to vote for him for congress i ask you to look seriously and thoughtfully at just one almost incredible fact general holly in his official capacity as president of the centennial commission has done one thing which you may not have heard commented upon and yet it is one of the most astounding performances of this decade an act almost impossible perhaps to any other public officer in this nation general holly has taken as high as one hundred and twenty one thousand dollars gate money at the centennial in a single day and never stole a cent of it great laughter and long continued applause general holly then spoke for about an hour and a half making a very effective speech and covering all the leading points of the campaign it was one of the most powerful speeches he has ever made here he spoke in new britain the home of congressman liner the night before and while being escorted by the boys in blue the procession was stoned and the color bearer alone was struck nine times alluding to this outrage general holly and summing up the reasons why the mission of the republican party was not ended said that it would not end till it was possible not only in the south for men to exercise all the right of citizenship without interference but possible also for republicans in hartford county in connecticut to peruse a peaceable march and he added we will have this right in connecticut if we have to march the whole state through to secure it and this declaration was greeted with prolonged applause end of section 17 october 2nd 1876 mark twain in politics read by john greenman section 18 of mark twain in the new york times part 1 1867 to 1879 this liber vox recording is in the public domain mark twain in the new york times part 1 section 18 october 29th 1876 mark twain compliments postmaster james read by john greenman mark twain compliments postmaster james a letter addressed to mr. s l clemens mark twain hartford connecticut notifying him that he had been elected a member of the new york press club and inviting him to be present at their fall reception on thursday last was inadvertently dropped into the letterbox without the required stamp postmaster james kindly paid the postage and forwarded the letter which in the ordinary course would have gone to the dead letter office after thanking mr. james for his courtesy mr. clemens enclosed a copy of the postmaster's letter to the president of the press club and expressed regret that he could not be present at the reception he closed with a compliment to mr. james as follows by the enclosed printed letter of postmaster james you will perceive that the term civil service is not a sarcasm when applied to the new york post office had your unpaid letter passed through the average post office of the land i should have received my invitation about three months from now through the dead letter department after much correspondence and ruinous outlay of postage i would that there were more postmaster james's in the land end of section 18 october 29th 1876 mark twain compliments postmaster james read by john greenman