n she was near to death she would have told us
where to go and what to do, but she was not suspecting, neither were
we. She was all our riches and she is gone; she was our breath, she
was our life, and now we are nothing.

We send you our love-and with it the love of you that was in her
heart when she died.
S. L. CLEMENS.

They arranged to sail on the Prince Oscar on the 29th of June. There
was an earlier steamer, but it was the Princess Irene, which had brought
them, and they felt they would not make the return voyage on that
vessel. During the period of waiting a curious thing happened. Clemens
one day got up in a chair in his room on the second floor to pull down
the high window-sash. It did not move easily and his hand slipped. It
was only by the merest chance that he saved himself from falling to the
ground far below. He mentions this in his note-book, and once, speaking
of it to Frederick Duneka, he said:

"Had I fallen it would probably have killed me, and in my bereaved
circumstances the world would have been convinced that it was suicide.
It was one of those curious coincidences which are always happening and
being misunderstood."

The homeward voyage and its sorrowful conclusion are pathetically
conveyed in his notes:

June 29, 1904. Sailed last night at 10. The bugle-call to
breakfast. I recognized the notes and was distressed. When I heard
them last Livy heard them with me; now they fall upon her ear
unheeded.

In my life there have been 68 Junes--but how vague & colorless 67 of
them are contrasted with the deep blackness of this one!

July 1, 1904. I cannot reproduce Livy's face in my mind's eye--I
was never in my life able to reproduce a face. It is a curious
infirmity--& now at last I realize it is a calamity.

July 2, 1904. In these 34 years we have made many voyages together,
Livy dear--& now we are making our last; you down below & lonely; I
above with the crowd & lonely.

July 3, 1904. Ship-time, 8 A.M. In 13 hours & a quarter it will be
4 weeks since Livy died.

Thirty-one years ago we made our first voyage together--& this is
our last one in company. Susy was a year old then. She died at 24
& had been in her grave 8 years.

July 10, 1904. To-night it will be 5 weeks. But to me it remains
yesterday--as it has from the first. But this funeral march--how
sad & l