orals have moved the
astonishment of all who have come in contact with me, but my manners
have gained more compliments than they have been accustomed to. This
mystery is causing my family much alarm. It is difficult to account for
it. I find I haven't my own hat. Have you developed any novelties of
conduct since you left Mr. Murray's, & have they been of a character to
move the concern of your friends? I think it must be this that has put
me under this happy charm; but, oh dear! I tremble for the other man!

Sincerely yours,
S. L. CLEMENS.

Scarcely was this note on its way to Wilberforce when the following one
arrived, having crossed it in transit:

July 3, 1899.

DEAR MR. CLEMENS,--I have been conscious of a vivacity and facility of
expression this afternoon beyond the normal and I have just discovered
the reason!! I have seen the historic signature "Mark Twain" in my hat!!
Doubtless you have been suffering from a corresponding dullness & have
wondered why. I departed precipitately, the hat stood on my umbrella and
was a new Lincoln & Bennett--it fitted me exactly and I did not discover
the mistake till I got in this afternoon. Please forgive me. If you
should be passing this way to-morrow will you look in and change hats?
or shall I send it to the hotel?

I am, very sincerely yrs.,
20 Dean's Yard. BASIL WILBERFORCE.

Clemens was demanded by all the bohemian clubs, the White Friars, the
Vagabonds, the Savage, the Beefsteak, and the Authors. He spoke to them,
and those "Mark Twain Evenings" have become historic occasions in each
of the several institutions that gave him welcome. At the Vagabonds he
told them the watermelon story, and at the White Friars he reviewed
the old days when he had been elected to that society; "days," he said,
"when all Londoners were talking about nothing else than that they had
discovered Livingstone, and that the lost Sir Roger Tichborne had been
found and they were trying him for it."

At the Savage Club, too, he recalled old times and old friends, and
particularly that first London visit, his days in the club twenty-seven
years before.

"I was 6 feet 4 in those days," he said. "Now I am 5 feet 8 1/2 and
daily diminishing in altitude, and the shrinkage of my principles goes
on .... Irving was here then, is here now. Stanley is here, and Joe
Hatton, but Charles Reade is gone and Tom Hood and Harry Lee