him any dinner clothes."

"At my dinner last night," I said, "he met every conventional
requirement."

"Then," continued the prince, "I would be much obliged if you
would get him for dinner with me to-morrow evening."

It was very much the same company as had dined with the prince
the night before. Again Twain was for a long time a complete
disappointment. I knew scores of good things of his and tried
my best to start him off, but without success. The prince, who
was unusually adroit and tactful in drawing a distinguished guest
out, also failed. When the dinner was over, however, and we had
reached the cigars, Mark Twain started in telling a story in his
most captivating way. His peculiar drawl, his habit in emphasizing
the points by shaking his bushy hair, made him a dramatic narrator.
He never had greater success. Even the veteran Mark himself was
astonished at the uproarious laughter which greeted almost every
sentence and was overwhelming when he closed.

There are millions of stories in the world, and several hundred
of them good ones. No one knew more of them than Mark Twain,
and yet out of this vast collection he selected the one which
I had told the night before to the same company. The laughter
and enjoyment were not at the story, but because the English had,
as they thought, caught me in retailing to them from Mark Twain's
repertoire one of his stories. It so happened that it was a story
which I had heard as happening upon our railroad in one of my
tours of inspection. I had told it in a speech, and it had been
generally copied in the American newspapers. Mark Twain's
reputation as the greatest living humorist caused that crowd to
doubt the originality of my stories.

Mark had declined the cigars, but the prince was so delighted that
he offered him one of the highly prized selection from his own
case. This drew from him a story, which I have not seen in any
of his books. I have read Mark Twain always with the greatest
pleasure. His books of travel have been to me a source of endless
interest, and his "Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc" is the
best representation of the saint and heroine that I know.

When the prince offered him the cigar, Mark said: "No, prince,
I never smoke. I have the reputation in Hartford, Conn., of
furnishing at my entertainments the worst of cigars. When I was
going abroad, and as I would be away for several years, I gave
a reception and invited all my frie