taken to Elmira for burial.

They laid her beside the little brother that had died so long before, and
ordered a headstone with some lines which they had found in Australia,
written by Robert Richardson:

Warm summer sun, shine kindly here;
Warm southern wind, blow softly here;
Green sod above, lie light, lie light!
--Good night, dear heart, good night, good night.

LII.

EUROPEAN ECONOMIES

With Clara and Jean, Mrs. Clemens returned to England, and in a modest
house on Tedworth Square, a secluded corner of London, the stricken
family hid themselves away for the winter. Few, even of their closest
friends, knew of their whereabouts. In time the report was circulated
that Mask Twain, old, sick, and deserted by his family, was living in
poverty, toiling to pay his debts. Through the London publishers a
distant cousin, Dr. James Clemens, of St. Louis, located the house on
Tedworth Square, and wrote, offering assistance. He was invited to call,
and found a quiet place--the life there simple--but not poverty. By and
by there was another report--this time that Mark Twain was dead. A
reporter found his way to Tedworth Square, and, being received by Mark
Twain himself, asked what he should say.

Clemens regarded him gravely, then, in his slow, nasal drawl, "Say--that
the report of my death--has been grossly--exaggerated, "a remark that a
day later was amusing both hemispheres. He could not help his humor; it
was his natural form of utterance--the medium for conveying fact,
fiction, satire, philosophy. Whatever his depth of despair, the quaint
surprise of speech would come, and it would be so until his last day.

By November he was at work on his book of travel, which he first thought
of calling "Around the World." He went out not at all that winter, and
the work progressed steadily, and was complete by the following May
(1897).

Meantime, during his trip around the world, Mark Twain's publishers had
issued two volumes of his work--the "Joan of Arc" book, and another "Tom
Sawyer" book, the latter volume combining two rather short stories, "Tom
Sawyer Abroad," published serially in St. Nicholas, and "Tom Sawyer,
Detective." The "Joan of Arc" book, the tenderest and most exquisite of
all Mark Twain's work--a tale told with the deepest sympathy and the
rarest delicacy--was dedicated by the author to his wife, as being the
only piece of his writing which he considered worthy of this ho