n, a gay winter, with Mark
Twain as one of the distinguished figures of the German capital. He was
received everywhere and made much of. Once a small, choice dinner was
given him by Kaiser William II., and, later, a breakfast by the Empress.
His books were great favorites in the German royal family. The Kaiser
particularly enjoyed the "Mississippi" book, while the essay on "The
Awful German Language," in the "Tramp Abroad," he pronounced one of the
finest pieces of humor ever written. Mark Twain's books were favorites,
in fact, throughout Germany. The door-man in his hotel had them all in
his little room, and, discovering one day that their guest, Samuel L.
Clemens, and Mark Twain were one, he nearly exploded with excitement.
Dragging the author to his small room, he pointed to the shelf:

"There," he said, "you wrote them! I've found it out. Ach! I did not
know it before, and I ask a million pardons."

Affairs were not going well in America, and in June Clemens made a trip
over to see what could be done. Probably he did very little, and he was
back presently at Nauheim, a watering-place, where he was able to work
rather quietly. He began two stories--one of them, "The Extraordinary
Twins," which was the first form of "Pudd'nhead Wilson;" the other, "Tom
Sawyer Abroad," for "St. Nicholas." Twichell came to Nauheim during the
summer, and one day he and Clemens ran over to Homburg, not far away.
The Prince of Wales (later King Edward VII.) was there, and Clemens and
Twichell, walking in the park, met the Prince with the British
ambassador, and were presented. Twichell, in an account of the meeting,
said:

"The meeting between the Prince and Mark was a most cordial one on
both sides, and presently the Prince took Mark Twain's arm and the
two marched up and down, talking earnestly together, the Prince
solid, erect, and soldier-like; Clemens weaving along in his
curious, swinging gait, in full tide of talk, and brandishing a sun
umbrella of the most scandalous description."

At Villa Viviani, an old, old mansion outside of Florence, on the hill
toward Settignano, Mark Twain finished "Tom Sawyer Abroad," also
"Pudd'nhead Wilson", and wrote the first half of a book that really had
its beginning on the day when, an apprentice-boy in Hannibal, he had
found a stray leaf from the pathetic story of "Joan of Arc." All his
life she had been his idol, and he had meant some day to write of her.
Now, in this weathe