The Complete Letters. Mark Twain

what you could do in that line when you raised me, Madam. But then you ought to have raised me first, so that Orion could have had the benefit of my example. Do you know that he stole all the stamps out of an 8 stamp quartz mill one night, and brought them home under his overcoat and hid them in the back room?

      Yrs. etc., SAM A little later he had headed for the Esmeralda Hills. Some time in February he was established there in a camp with a young man by the name of Horatio Phillips (Raish). Later he camped with Bob Howland, who, as City Marshal of Aurora, became known as the most fearless man in the Territory, and, still later, with Calvin H. Higbie (Cal), to whom ‘Roughing It’ would one day be dedicated. His own funds were exhausted by this time, and Orion, with his rather slender salary, became the financial partner of the firm.

      It was a comfortless life there in the Esmeralda camp. Snow covered everything. There was nothing to do, and apparently nothing to report; for there are no letters until April. Then the first one is dated Carson City, where he seems to be making a brief sojourn. It is a rather heavy attempt to be lighthearted; its playfulness suggests that of a dancing bear.

      To Mrs. Jane Clemens, in St. Louis:

      CARSON CITY, April 2, 1862. MY DEAR MOTHER, — Yours of March 2nd has just been received. I see I am in for it again — with Annie. But she ought to know that I was always stupid. She used to try to teach me lessons from the Bible, but I never could understand them. Doesn’t she remember telling me the story of Moses, one Sunday, last Spring, and how hard she tried to explain it and simplify it so that I could understand it — but I couldn’t? And how she said it was strange that while her ma and her grandma and her uncle Orion could understand anything in the world, I was so dull that I couldn’t understand the “easiest thing?” And doesn’t she remember that finally a light broke in upon me and I said it was all right — that I knew old Moses himself — and that he kept a clothing store in Market Street? And then she went to her ma and said she didn’t know what would become of her uncle Sam he was too dull to learn anything — ever! And I’m just as dull yet. Now I have no doubt her letter was spelled right, and was correct in all particulars — but then I had to read it according to my lights; and they being inferior, she ought to overlook the mistakes I make specially, as it is not my fault that I wasn’t born with good sense. I am sure she will detect an encouraging ray of intelligence in that last argument…..

      I am waiting here, trying to rent a better office for Orion. I have got the refusal after next week of a room on first floor of a fireproof brick-rent, eighteen hundred dollars a year. Don’t know yet whether we can get it or not. If it is not rented before the week is up, we can.

      I was sorry to hear that Dick was killed. I gave him his first lesson in the musket drill. We had half a dozen muskets in our office when it was over Isbell’s Music Rooms.

      I hope I am wearing the last white shirt that will embellish my person for many a day — for I do hope that I shall be out of Carson long before this reaches you.

      Love to all. Very Respectfully SAM. The “Annie” in this letter was his sister Pamela’s little daughter; long years after, she would be the wife of Charles L. Webster, Mark Twain’s publishing partner. “Dick” the reader may remember as Dick Hingham, of the Keokuk printing-office; he was killed in charging the works at Fort Donelson.

      Clemens was back in Esmeralda when the next letter was written, and we begin now to get pictures of that cheerless mining-camp, and to know something of the alternate hopes and discouragements of the hunt for gold — the miner one day soaring on wings of hope, on the next becoming excited, irritable, profane. The names of new mines appear constantly and vanish almost at a touch, suggesting the fairylike evanescence of their riches.

      But a few of the letters here will best speak for themselves; not all of them are needed. It is perhaps unnecessary to say that there is no intentional humor in these documents.

      To Orion Clemens, in Carson City:

      ESMERALDA, 13th April, 1862. MY DEAR BROTHER, — Wasson got here night before last “from the wars.” Tell Lockhart he is not wounded and not killed — is altogether unhurt. He says the whites left their stone fort before he and Lieut. Noble got there. A large amount of provisions and ammunition, which they left behind them, fell into the hands of the Indians. They had a pitched battle with the savages some fifty miles from the fort, in which Scott (sheriff) and another man was killed. This was the day before the soldiers came up with them. I mean Noble’s men, and those under Cols. Evans and Mayfield, from Los Angeles. Evans assumed the chief command — and next morning the forces were divided into three parties, and marched against the enemy. Col. Mayfield was killed, and Sergeant Gillespie, also Noble’s colonel was wounded. The California troops went back home, and Noble remained, to help drive the stock over here. And, as Cousin Sally Dillard says, this is all I know about the fight.

      Work not yet begun on the H. and Derby — haven’t seen it yet. It is still in the snow. Shall begin on it within 3 or 4 weeks — strike the ledge in July. Guess it is good — worth from $30 to $50 a foot in California.

      Why didn’t you send the “Live Yankee” deed-the very one I wanted? Have made no inquiries about it, much. Don’t intend to until I get the deed. Send it along — by mail — d — -n the Express — have to pay three times for all express matter; once in Carson and twice here. I don’t expect to take the saddle-bags out of the express office. I paid twenty-five cts. for the Express deeds.

      Man named Gebhart shot here yesterday while trying to defend a claim on Last Chance Hill. Expect he will die.

      These mills here are not worth a d — -nexcept Clayton’s — and it is not in full working trim yet.

      Send me $40 or $50 — by mail — immediately.

      The Red Bird is probably good — can’t work on the tunnel on account of snow. The “Pugh” I have thrown away — shan’t relocate it. It is nothing but bedrock croppings — too much work to find the ledge, if there is one. Shan’t record the “Farnum” until I know more about it — perhaps not at all.

      “Governor” under the snow.

      “Douglas” and “Red Bird” are both recorded.

      I have had opportunities to get into several ledges, but refused all but three — expect to back out of two of them.

      Stir yourself as much as possible, and lay up $100 or $15,000, subject to my call. I go to work tomorrow, with pick and shovel. Something’s got to come, by G — , before I let go, here.

      Col. Youngs says you must rent Kinkead’s room by all means — Government would rather pay $150 a month for your office than $75 for Gen. North’s. Says you are playing your hand very badly, for either the Government’s good opinion or anybody’s else, in keeping your office in a shanty. Says put Gov. Nye in your place and he would have a stylish office, and no objections would ever be made, either. When old Col. Youngs talks this way, I think it time to get a fine office. I wish you would take that office, and fit it up handsomely, so that I can omit telling people that by this time you are handsomely located, when I know it is no such thing.

      I am living with “Ratio Phillips.” Send him one of those black portfolios — by the stage, and put a couple of pen-holders and a dozen steel pens in it.

      If you should have occasion to dispose of the long desk before I return, don’t forget to break open the middle drawer and take out my things. Envelop my black cloth coat in a newspaper and hang it in the back room.

      Don’t buy anything while I am here — but save up some money for me. Don’t send any money home. I shall have your next quarter’s salary spent before you get it, I think. I mean to make or break here within the next two or three months.

      Yrs. SAM The “wars” mentioned in the opening paragraph of this letter were incident to the trouble concerning the boundary line between California and Nevada. The trouble continued for some time, with occasional bloodshed. The next letter is an exultant one. There were few enough of this sort. We cannot pretend to keep track of the multiplicity of mines and shares which lure the gold-hunters,