heet of perfectly smooth steel was coated with a preparation of kaolin
(or china clay), and a picture was engraved through the coating down to
the steel surface. This formed the matrix into which the molten metal
was poured to make the stereotype plate, or die, for printing. It was
Clemens's notion that he could utilize this process for the casting of
brass dies for stamping book covers--that, so applied, the fortunes to
be made out of it would be larger and more numerous. Howells tells how,
at one time, Clemens thought the "damned human race" was almost to be
redeemed by a process of founding brass without air-bubbles in it. This
was the time referred to and the race had to go unredeemed; for, after
long, worried, costly experimenting, the brass refused to accommodate
its nature to the new idea, while the chalk plate itself, with all its
subsidiary and auxiliary possibilities, was infringed upon right and
left, and the protecting patent failed to hold. The process was doomed,
in any case. It was barely established before the photographic etching
processes, superior in all ways, were developed and came quickly into
use. The kaolatype enterprise struggled nobly for a considerable period.
Clemens brought his niece's husband, young Charles L. Webster, from
Fredonia to manage it for him, and backed it liberally. Webster was
vigorous, hard-working, and capable; but the end of each month showed a
deficit, until Clemens was from forty to fifty thousand dollars out of
pocket in his effort to save the race with chalk and brass. The history
of these several ventures (and there were others), dismissed here in
a few paragraphs, would alone make a volume not without interest,
certainly not without humor. Following came the type-setting machine,
but we are not ready for that. Of necessity it is a longer, costlier
story.

Mrs. Clemens did not share his enthusiasm in these various enterprises.
She did not oppose them, at least not strenuously, but she did not
encourage them. She did not see their need. Their home was beautiful;
they were happy; he could do his work in deliberation and comfort. She
knew the value of money better than he, cared more for it in her own
way; but she had not his desire to heap up vast and sudden sums, to
revel in torrential golden showers. She was willing to let well enough
alone. Clemens could not do this, and suffered accordingly. In the midst
of fair home surroundings and honors we find him writing to his