it. But nevertheless in the 8 weeks that have now elapsed
since the day we published, we have sold 40,000 copies; which gives
L3,000 royalty to be divided between the authors. This is really the
largest two-months' sale which any American book has ever achieved
(unless one excepts the cheaper editions of Uncle Tom's Cabin). The
average price of our book is 16 shillings a copy--Uncle Tom was 2
shillings a copy. But for the panic our sale would have been doubled,
I verily believe. I do not believe the sale will ultimately go over
100,000 copies.

I shipped to you, from Liverpool, Barley's Illustrations of Judd's
"Margaret" (the waiter at the Adelphi Hotel agreeing to ship it securely
per parcel delivery,) and I do hope it did not miscarry, for we
in America think a deal of Barley's--[Felix Octavius Carr barley,
1822-1888, illustrator of the works of Irving, Cooper, etc. Probably the
most distinguished American illustrator of his time.]--work. I shipped
the novel ("Margaret") to you from here a week ago.

Indeed I am thankful for the wife and the child--and if there is one
individual creature on all this footstool who is more thoroughly and
uniformly and unceasingly happy than I am I defy the world to produce
him and prove him. In my opinion, he doesn't exist. I was a mighty
rough, coarse, unpromising subject when Livy took charge of me 4 years
ago, and I may still be, to the rest of the world, but not to her. She
has made a very creditable job of me.

Success to the Mark Twain Club!--and the novel shibboleth of the
Whistle. Of course any member rising to speak would be required to
preface his remark with a keen respectful whistle at the chair-the chair
recognizing the speaker with an answering shriek, and then as the
speech proceeded its gravity and force would be emphasized and its
impressiveness augmented by the continual interjection of whistles in
place of punctuation-pauses; and the applause of the audience would be
manifested in the same way....

They've gone to luncheon, and I must follow. With strong love from us
both.

Your friend,
SAML. L. CLEMENS.

These were the days when the Howells and Clemens families began
visiting back and forth between Boston and Hartford, and sometimes
Aldrich came, though less frequently, and the gatherings at the
homes of Warner and Clemens were full of never-to-be-forgotten
happiness. Of one su