p and soon taxied to the
terminal. The doors opened and everyone began to file out--many,
anticipating that Graham would soon be returning, didn't engage him in
conversation, but shook his hand warmly and wished him well. Mark Twain
gave him a hug and said how much he had enjoyed his company. He said
that Graham reminded him a lot of Tom Sawyer who, he said, currently
lived down the street from him. Seeing Graham's puzzled expression, he
quickly explained that any imaginary character an author dreams up is
actually a person that the author has tuned into. And that an author
rarely has an original thought in his head but is really very good at
catching glimpses of activities (present, past or future) somewhere in
creation.

As Mark Twain turned to the exit, Graham suddenly remembered a question
that he had wanted to ask. "Oh, Mr. Twain," he called. "I wanted to ask
how you came to use the name Mark Twain. I know your real name is Samuel
Clemens...."

"Well," responded Twain, "no one has ever asked me that question
before--Just kidding," he added quickly, seeing Graham's expression.
"Yes, I am asked it all the time. The name was first used by an old
Mississippi river pilot named Isaiah Sellers, who used to write items
for the _New Orleans Picayune_, in which he told of his adventures. He
signed them Mark Twain, which in the parlance of pilots is a leadsman
call meaning two fathoms, or twelve feet. When I was a cub pilot, I
wrote a burlesque on Captain Seller's articles and published it in a
rival paper under the signature of Sargeant Fathom. Unfortunately, the
captain was so hurt by the burlesque that he never wrote another
article. I still feel badly about it to this day, for I would never have
intentionally hurt the old gentleman's feelings. Anyway, in 1863, when I
was working for the _Enterprise_ in Virginia City, Nevada, I wanted a
good pen name and, while I was trying to think of one, I received the
news of the death of the good captain. This brought to mind the name
Mark Twain, and so I adopted the name in his honor. I signed it first in
a letter from Carson City to the _Enterprise_ on February second, 1863.
So now you know, my young friend," said Twain as he handed him an
autographed photo of himself. "Something to keep for yourself, in
remembrance of your visit here." He hugged Graham again and waved
goodbye to the boy as he descended from the plane.

Several distinguished-looking gentlemen stopped to introduce