agent. The consideration of proposed literary, dramatic, and financial
schemes must have required not only thought, but time. Yet Mr. Rogers
comfortably and genially took care of all these things and his own
tremendous affairs besides, and apologized sometimes when he felt,
perhaps, that he had wavered a little in his attention. Clemens once
wrote him:

Oh, dear me, you don't have to excuse yourself for neglecting me;
you are entitled to the highest praise for being so limitlessly
patient and good in bothering with my confused affairs, and pulling
me out of a hole every little while.

It makes me lazy, the way that Steel stock is rising. If I were
lazier--like Rice--nothing could keep me from retiring. But I work
right along, like a poor person. I shall figure up the rise, as the
figures come in, and push up my literary prices accordingly, till I
get my literature up to where nobody can afford it but the family.
(N. B.--Look here, are you charging storage? I am not going to
stand that, you know.) Meantime, I note those encouraging illogical
words of yours about my not worrying because I am to be rich when I
am 68; why didn't you have Cheiro make it 90, so that I could have
plenty of room?

It would be jolly good if some one should succeed in making a play
out of "Is He Dead?"--[Clemens himself had attempted to make a play
out of his story "Is He Dead?" and had forwarded the MS. to Rogers.
Later he wrote: "Put 'Is He Dead?' in the fire. God will bless you.
I too. I started to convince myself that I could write a play, or
couldn't. I'm convinced. Nothing can disturb that conviction."]
--From what I gather from dramatists, he will have his hands
something more than full--but let him struggle, let him struggle.

Is there some way, honest or otherwise, by which you can get a copy
of Mayo's play, "Pudd'nhead Wilson," for me? There is a capable
young Austrian here who saw it in New York and wants to translate it
and see if he can stage it here. I don't think these people here
would understand it or take to it, but he thinks it will pay us to
try.

A couple of London dramatists want to bargain with me for the right
to make a high comedy out of the "Million-Pound Note." Barkis is
willing.

This is but one of the briefer letters. Most of them were much longer
and of more elaborate requirements. Also