f
these special engagements that we have the only letter preserved
from this time. It is to Howells, and written with that
exaggeration with which he was likely to embellish his difficulties.
We are not called upon to believe that there were really any such
demonstrations as those ascribed to Warner and himself.

*****

To W. D. Howells, in Boston:

FARMINGTON AVE, Hartford Feb. 27.

MY DEAR HOWELLS,--I am in a sweat and Warner is in another. I told
Redpath some time ago I would lecture in Boston any two days he might
choose provided they were consecutive days--

I never dreamed of his choosing days during Lent since that was his
special horror--but all at once he telegraphs me, and hollers at me in
all manner of ways that I am booked for Boston March 5 of all days in
the year--and to make matters just as mixed and uncertain as possible, I
can't find out to save my life whether he means to lecture me on the 6th
or not.

Warner's been in here swearing like a lunatic, and saying he had written
you to come on the 4th,--and I said, "You leather-head, if I talk in
Boston both afternoon and evening March 5, I'll have to go to Boston the
4th,"--and then he just kicked up his heels and went off cursing after a
fashion I never heard of before.

Now let's just leave this thing to Providence for 24 hours--you bet it
will come out all right.

Yours ever
MARK.

He was writing a book with Warner at this time--The Gilded Age
--the two authors having been challenged by their wives one night at
dinner to write a better book than the current novels they had been
discussing with some severity. Clemens already had a story in his
mind, and Warner agreed to collaborate in the writing. It was begun
without delay. Clemens wrote the first three hundred and
ninety-nine pages, and read there aloud to Warner, who took up the
story at this point and continued it through twelve chapters, after
which they worked alternately, and with great enjoyment. They also
worked rapidly, and in April the story was completed. For a
collaboration by two men so different in temperament and literary
method it was a remarkable performance.

Another thing Mark Twain did that winter was to buy some land on
Farmington Avenue and begin th