as to where I
was. But I had one comfort--I had not waked Livy; I believed I
could find that sock in silence if the night lasted long enough.
So I started again and softly pawed all over the place, and sure
enough, at the end of half an hour I laid my hand on the missing
article. I rose joyfully up and butted the washbowl and pitcher off
the stand, and simply raised----so to speak. Livy screamed, then
said, "Who is it? What is the matter?" I said, "There ain't
anything the matter. I'm hunting for my sock." She said, "Are you
hunting for it with a club?"

I went in the parlor and lit the lamp, and gradually the fury
subsided and the ridiculous features of the thing began to suggest
themselves. So I lay on the sofa with note-book and pencil, and
transferred the adventure to our big room in the hotel at
Heilsbronn, and got it on paper a good deal to my satisfaction.

He wrote with frequency to Howells, and sent him something for the
magazine now and then: the "Gambetta Duel" burlesque, which would make
a chapter in the book later, and the story of "The Great Revolution
in Pitcairn."--[Included in The Stolen White Elephant volume. The
"Pitcairn" and "Elephant" tales were originally chapters in 'A Tramp
Abroad'; also the unpleasant "Coffin-box" yarn, which Howells rejected
for the Atlantic and generally condemned, though for a time it remained
a favorite with its author.]

Howells's novel, 'The Lady of the Aroostook', was then running through
the 'Atlantic', and in one of his letters Clemens expresses the general
deep satisfaction of his household in that tale:

If your literature has not struck perfection now we are not able to see
what is lacking. It is all such truth--truth to the life; everywhere
your pen falls it leaves a photograph.... Possibly you will not be a
fully accepted classic until you have been dead one hundred years--it is
the fate of the Shakespeares of all genuine professions--but then your
books will be as common as Bibles, I believe. In that day I shall be
in the encyclopedias too, thus: "Mark Twain, history and occupation
unknown; but he was personally acquainted with Howells."

Though in humorous form, this was a sincere tribute. Clemens always
regarded with awe William Dean Howells's ability to dissect and
photograph with such delicacy the minutiae of human nature; just as
Howells always stood in awe of Mark Twain's ability to light, with a