then we had a big
general performance of "The Prince and the Pauper." That would be
in the library and the dining-room with the folding-doors open. The
place just held eighty-four chairs, and the stage was placed back
against the conservatory. The children were crazy about acting and
we all enjoyed it as much as they did, especially Mr. Clemens, who
was the best actor of all. I had a part, too, and George. I have
never known a happier household than theirs was during those years.

Mr. Clemens spent most of his time up in the billiard-room, writing
or playing billiards. One day when I went in, and he was shooting
the balls around the tables, I noticed smoke coming up from the
hearth. I called Patrick, and John O'Neill, the gardener, and we
began taking up the hearth to see what was the matter. Mr. Clemens
kept on playing billiards right along and paid no attention to what
we were doing. Finally, when we got the hearth up, a lot of flame
and smoke came out into the room. The house was on fire. Mr.
Clemens noticed then what we were about, and went over to the corner
where there were some bottle fire-extinguishers. He took one down
and threw it into the flames. This put them out a good deal, and he
took up his cue, went back to the table, and began to shoot the
balls around again as if nothing had happened. Mrs. Clemens came in
just then and said, "Why, the house is afire!"

"Yes, I know it," he said, but went on playing.

We had a telephone and it didn't work very well. It annoyed him a
good deal and sometimes he'd say:

"I'll tear it out."

One day he tried to call up Mrs. Dr. Tafft. He could not hear
plainly and thought he was talking to central. "Send down and take
this d---thing out of here," he said; "I'm tired of it." He was
mad, and using a good deal of bad language. All at once he heard
Mrs. Dr. Tafft say, "Oh, Mr. Clemens, good morning." He said, "Why,
Mrs. Tafft, I have just come to the telephone. George, our butler,
was here before me and I heard him swearing as I came up. I shall
have to talk to him about it."

Mrs. Tafft often told it on him.--[ Mark Twain once wrote to the
telephone management: "The time is coming very soon when the
telephone will be a perfect instrument, when proximity will no
longer be a hindrance to its performance, when, in fact, one wil