rintendents at the window when I
came out of the place, but I did not know what they were laughing at nor
whom they were laughing at, and it was a matter of no interest to me
anyway. Through that incident I acquired an enviable reputation for
smartness and penetration, but it was not my due, for I had not
penetrated anything that the cow could not have penetrated.

MARK TWAIN.

(_To be Continued._)

FOOTNOTE:

[16] With the pen, I mean. This Autobiography is dictated, not written.

NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW

No. DCXX.

AUGUST 2, 1907.

CHAPTERS FROM MY AUTOBIOGRAPHY.--XXI.

BY MARK TWAIN.

_From Susy's Biography of Me._

_Feb. 12, '86._

Mamma and I have both been very much troubled of late because papa
since he has been publishing Gen. Grant's book has seemed to forget
his own books and work entirely, and the other evening as papa and
I were promonading up and down the library he told me that he
didn't expect to write but one more book, and then he was ready to
give up work altogether, die, or do anything, he said that he had
written more than he had ever expected to, and the only book that
he had been pertickularly anxious to write was one locked up in the
safe down stairs, not yet published.[17]

But this intended future of course will never do, and although papa
usually holds to his own opinions and intents with outsiders, when
mamma realy desires anything and says that it must be, papa allways
gives up his plans (at least so far) and does as she says is right
(and she is usually right, if she dissagrees with him at all). It
was because he knew his great tendency to being convinced by her,
that he published without her knowledge that article in the
"Christian Union" concerning the government of children. So judging
by the proofs of past years, I think that we will be able to
persuade papa to go back to work as before, and not leave off
writing with the end of his next story. Mamma says that she
sometimes feels, and I do too, that she would rather have papa
depend on his writing for a living than to have him think of giving
it up.

[_Dictated, November 8, 1906._] I have a defect of a sort which I think
is not common; certainly I hope it isn't: it is rare that I can call
before my mind's eye the f