interest in this
tour had been so slender that I couldn't gouge matter enough out of it
to make a book. What a mistake. I've got 900 pages written (not a word
in it about the sea voyage) yet I stepped my foot out of Heidelberg for
the first time yesterday,--and then only to take our party of four
on our first pedestrian tour--to Heilbronn. I've got them dressed
elaborately in walking costume--knapsacks, canteens, field-glasses,
leather leggings, patent walking shoes, muslin folds around their hats,
with long tails hanging down behind, sun umbrellas, and Alpenstocks.
They go all the way to Wimpfen by rail-thence to Heilbronn in a chance
vegetable cart drawn by a donkey and a cow; I shall fetch them home on
a raft; and if other people shall perceive that that was no pedestrian
excursion, they themselves shall not be conscious of it.--This trip will
take 100 pages or more,--oh, goodness knows how many! for the mood is
everything, not the material, and I already seem to see 300 pages rising
before me on that trip. Then, I propose to leave Heidelberg for good.
Don't you see, the book (1800 MS pages,) may really be finished before I
ever get to Switzerland?

But there's one thing; I want to tell Frank Bliss and his father to be
charitable toward me in,--that is, let me tear up all the MS I want to,
and give me time to write more. I shan't waste the time--I haven't the
slightest desire to loaf, but a consuming desire to work, ever since I
got back my swing. And you see this book is either going to be compared
with the Innocents Abroad, or contrasted with it, to my disadvantage.
I think I can make a book that will be no dead corpse of a thing and I
mean to do my level best to accomplish that.

My crude plans are crystalizing. As the thing stands now, I went to
Europe for three purposes. The first you know, and must keep secret,
even from the Blisses; the second is to study Art; and the third to
acquire a critical knowledge of the German language. My MS already shows
that the two latter objects are accomplished. It shows that I am moving
about as an Artist and a Philologist, and unaware that there is any
immodesty in assuming these titles. Having three definite objects has
had the effect of seeming to enlarge my domain and give me the freedom
of a loose costume. It is three strings to my bow, too.

Well, your butcher is magnificent. He won't stay out of my mind.--I keep
trying to think of some way of getting your account of h