t.

A letter of acknowledgment from Lewis contains a sentence which raises
it to the dignity of literature:

"But I beg to say, humbly, that inasmuch as divine providence saw fit
to use me as a instrument for the saving of those presshious lives, the
honner conferd upon me was greater than the feat performed."

That is well said.

Yrs ever
MARK.

Howells was moved to use the story in the "Contributors' Club,"
and warned Clemens against letting it get into the newspapers. He
declared he thought it one of the most impressive things he had ever
read. But Clemens seems never to have allowed it to be used in any
form. In its entirety, therefore, it is quite new matter.

*****

To W. D. Howells, in Boston:

HARTFORD, Sept. 19, 1877.

MY DEAR HOWELLS,--I don't really see how the story of the runaway horse
could read well with the little details of names and places and things
left out. They are the true life of all narrative. It wouldn't quite
do to print them at this time. We'll talk about it when you come.
Delicacy--a sad, sad false delicacy--robs literature of the best
two things among its belongings. Family-circle narrative and obscene
stories. But no matter; in that better world which I trust we are all
going to I have the hope and belief that they will not be denied us.

Say--Twichell and I had an adventure at sea, 4 months ago, which I did
not put in my Bermuda articles, because there was not enough to it. But
the press dispatches bring the sequel today, and now there's plenty
to it. A sailless, wasteless, chartless, compassless, grubless old
condemned tub that has been drifting helpless about the ocean for 4
months and a half, begging bread and water like any other tramp, flying
a signal of distress permanently, and with 13 innocent, marveling
chuckleheaded Bermuda niggers on board, taking a Pleasure Excursion!
Our ship fed the poor devils on the 25th of last May, far out at sea and
left them to bullyrag their way to New York--and now they ain't as near
New York as they were then by 250 miles! They have drifted 750 miles
and are still drifting in the relentless Gulf Stream! What a delicious
magazine chapter it would make--but I had to deny myself. I had to come
right out in the papers at once, with my details, so as to try to raise
the government's sympathy sufficiently to have