ng. When
it was torn down several years ago, portions of it were carried off and
manufactured into souvenirs. Mark Twain himself disclaimed it as his
birthplace, and once wrote on a photograph of it: "No, it is too stylish,
it is not my birthplace."]

IV

BEGINNING A LONG JOURNEY

It was not a robust childhood. The new baby managed to go through the
winter--a matter of comment among the family and neighbors. Added
strength came, but slowly; "Little Sam," as they called him, was always
delicate during those early years.

It was a curious childhood, full of weird, fantastic impressions and
contradictory influences, stimulating alike to the imagination and that
embryo philosophy of life which begins almost with infancy. John Clemens
seldom devoted any time to the company of his children. He looked after
their comfort and mental development as well as he could, and gave advice
on occasion. He bought a book now and then--sometimes a picture-book
--and subscribed for Peter Parley's Magazine, a marvel of delight to the
older children, but he did not join in their amusements, and he rarely,
or never, laughed. Mark Twain did not remember ever having seen or heard
his father laugh. The problem of supplying food was a somber one to John
Clemens; also, he was working on a perpetual-motion machine at this
period, which absorbed his spare time, and, to the inventor at least, was
not a mirthful occupation. Jane Clemens was busy, too. Her sense of
humor did not die, but with added cares and years her temper as well as
her features became sharper, and it was just as well to be fairly out of
range when she was busy with her employments.

Little Sam's companions were his brothers and sisters, all older than
himself: Orion, ten years his senior, followed by Pamela and Margaret at
intervals of two and three years, then by Benjamin, a kindly little lad
whose gentle life was chiefly devoted to looking after the baby brother,
three years his junior. But in addition to these associations, there
were the still more potent influences Of that day and section, the
intimate, enveloping institution of slavery, the daily companionship of
the slaves. All the children of that time were fond of the negroes and
confided in them. They would, in fact, have been lost without such
protection and company.

It was Jennie, the house-girl, and Uncle Ned, a man of all work
--apparently acquired with the improved prospects--who were in real
charge of