. I perused several passages more than once, and rose
from it with a higher opinion of its merits than ever.

What is it that we want in a novel? We want a vivid and original
picture of life; we want character naturally displayed in action;
and if we get the excitement of adventure into the bargain, and that
adventure possible and plausible, I so far differ from the newest
school of criticism as to think that we have additional cause for
gratitude. If, moreover, there is an unstrained sense of humor in
the narrator we have a masterpiece, and Huckleberry Finn is, nothing
less.

He reviews Huck sympathetically in detail, and closes:

There are defects of taste, or passages that to us seem deficient in
taste, but the book remains a nearly flawless gem of romance and of
humor. The world appreciates it, no doubt, but "cultured critics"
are probably unaware of its singular value. The great American
novel has escaped the eyes of those who watch to see this new planet
swim into their ken. And will Mark Twain never write such another?
One is enough for him to live by, and for our gratitude, but not
enough for our desire.

In the brief column and a half which it occupies, this comment of Andrew
Lang's constitutes as thoughtful and fair an estimate of Mark Twain's
work as was ever written.

W. T. Stead, of the Review of Reviews, was about the only prominent
English editor to approve of the Yankee and to exploit its merits. Stead
brought down obloquy upon himself by so doing, and his separation from
his business partner would seem to have been at least remotely connected
with this heresy.

The Yankee in King Arthur's Court was dramatized in America by Howard
Taylor, one of the Enterprise compositors, whom Clemens had known in
the old Comstock days. Taylor had become a playwright of considerable
success, with a number of well-known actors and actresses starring in
his plays. The Yankee, however, did not find a manager, or at least it
seems not to have reached the point of production.

CLXXIII. A SUMMER AT ONTEORA

With the exception of one article--"A Majestic Literary
Fossil"--[Harper's Magazine, February, 1890. Included in the "Complete
Works."]--Clemens was writing nothing of importance at this time.
This article grew out of a curious old medical work containing absurd
prescriptions which, with Theodore Crane, he had often laughed over at
the farm