it that may be valuable.
Listen:

Rule 1. When approaching the bedside of one whom an all-wise
President--I mean an all-wise Providence--well, anyway, it's the same
thing--has seen fit to afflict with disease--well, the rule is simple,
even if it is old-fashioned.

Rule 2. I've forgotten just what it is, but--

Rule 3. This is always indispensable: Bleed your patient.

MISSOURI UNIVERSITY SPEECH

ADDRESS DELIVERED JUNE 4, 1902, AT COLUMBIA, MO.

When the name of Samuel L. Clemens was called the humorist
stepped forward, put his hand to his hair, and apparently
hesitated. There was a dead silence for a moment. Suddenly
the entire audience rose and stood in silence. Some one began
to spell out the word Missouri with an interval between the
letters. All joined in. Then the house again became silent.
Mr. Clemens broke the spell:

As you are all standing [he drawled in his characteristic voice], I
guess, I suppose I had better stand too.

[Then came a laugh and loud cries for a speech. As the great humorist
spoke of his recent visit to Hannibal, his old home, his voice
trembled.]

You cannot know what a strain it was on my emotions [he said]. In fact,
when I found myself shaking hands with persons I had not seen for fifty
years and looking into wrinkled faces that were so young and joyous when
I last saw them, I experienced emotions that I had never expected, and
did not know were in me. I was profoundly moved anal saddened to think
that this was the last time, perhaps, that I would ever behold those
kind old faces and dear old scenes of childhood.

[The humorist then changed to a lighter mood, and for a time the
audience was in a continual roar of laughter. He was particularly amused
at the eulogy on himself read by Gardiner Lathrop in conferring the
degree.] He has a fine opportunity to distinguish himself [said Mr.
Clemens] by telling the truth about me.

I have seen it stated in print that as a boy I had been guilty of
stealing peaches, apples, and watermelons. I read a story to this effect
very closely not long ago, and I was convinced of one thing, which was
that the man who wrote it was of the opinion that it was wrong to steal,
and that I had not acted right in doing so. I wish now, however, to make
an honest statement, which is that I do not believe, in all my checkered
career, I stole a ton of peaches.

On