Only five years earlier Mark
Twain, poor, and comparatively unknown, had been carrying water
while Jim Gillis and Dick Stoker washed out the pans of dirt in
search of the gold pocket which they did not find. Clemens must
have received a letter from Gillis referring to some particular
occasion, but it has disappeared; the reply, however, always
remained one of James Gillis's treasured possessions.

*****

To James Gillis, in his cabin on Jackass Hill, Tuolumne Co., California:

ELMIRA, N.Y. Jan. 26, '70.

DEAR JIM,--I remember that old night just as well! And somewhere among
my relics I have your remembrance stored away. It makes my heart ache
yet to call to mind some of those days. Still, it shouldn't--for right
in the depths of their poverty and their pocket-hunting vagabondage
lay the germ of my coming good fortune. You remember the one gleam
of jollity that shot across our dismal sojourn in the rain and mud of
Angels' Camp I mean that day we sat around the tavern stove and heard
that chap tell about the frog and how they filled him with shot. And you
remember how we quoted from the yarn and laughed over it, out there on
the hillside while you and dear old Stoker panned and washed. I jotted
the story down in my note-book that day, and would have been glad to get
ten or fifteen dollars for it--I was just that blind. But then we
were so hard up! I published that story, and it became widely known in
America, India, China, England--and the reputation it made for me has
paid me thousands and thousands of dollars since. Four or five months
ago I bought into the Express (I have ordered it sent to you as long as
you live--and if the book keeper sends you any bills, you let me hear of
it.) I went heavily in debt never could have dared to do that, Jim, if
we hadn't heard the jumping Frog story that day.

And wouldn't I love to take old Stoker by the hand, and wouldn't I love
to see him in his great specialty, his wonderful rendition of "Rinalds"
in the "Burning Shame!" Where is Dick and what is he doing? Give him my
fervent love and warm old remembrances.

A week from today I shall be married to a girl even better, and lovelier
than the peerless "Chapparal Quails." You can't come so far, Jim, but
still I cordially invite you to come, anyhow--and I invite Dick, too.
And if you two boys were to land here on that pleasant occasion, we
would make y