e storms sweep down the
remote valley and the lightning flashes above the hills beyond, and
the rain beats upon the roof over my head, imagine the luxury of it! It
stands 500 feet above the valley and 2 1/2 miles from it.

However one must not write all day. We send continents of love to you
and yours.

Affectionately
MARK.

We have mentioned before that Clemens had settled his mother and
sister at Fredonia, New York, and when Mrs. Clemens was in condition
to travel he concluded to pay them a visit.

It proved an unfortunate journey; the hot weather was hard on Mrs.
Clemens, and harder still, perhaps, on Mark Twain's temper. At any
period of his life a bore exasperated him, and in these earlier days
he was far more likely to explode than in his mellower age. Remorse
always followed--the price he paid was always costly. We cannot
know now who was the unfortunate that invited the storm, but in the
next letter we get the echoes of it and realize something of its
damage.

*****

To Mrs. Jane Clemens and Mrs. Moffett, in Fredonia:

ELMIRA, Aug. 15.

MY DEAR MOTHER AND SISTER,--I came away from Fredonia ashamed of
myself;--almost too much humiliated to hold up my head and say good-bye.
For I began to comprehend how much harm my conduct might do you socially
in your village. I would have gone to that detestable oyster-brained
bore and apologized for my inexcusable rudeness to him, but that I
was satisfied he was of too small a calibre to know how to receive an
apology with magnanimity.

Pamela appalled me by saying people had hinted that they wished to visit
Livy when she came, but that she had given them no encouragement. I
feared that those people would merely comprehend that their courtesies
were not wanted, and yet not know exactly why they were not wanted.

I came away feeling that in return for your constant and tireless
efforts to secure our bodily comfort and make our visit enjoyable, I had
basely repaid you by making you sad and sore-hearted and leaving you
so. And the natural result has fallen to me likewise--for a guilty
conscience has harassed me ever since, and I have not had one short
quarter of an hour of peace to this moment.

You spoke of Middletown. Why not go there and live? Mr. Crane says it is
only about a hundred miles t