rrived at eleven o'clock in the morning, and
they did not leave until midnight. If his first impression upon Olivia
Langdon had been meteoric, it would seem that he must now have become to
her as a streaming comet that swept from zenith to horizon. One thing
is certain: she had become to him the single, unvarying beacon of his
future years. He visited Henry Ward Beecher on that trip and dined with
him by invitation. Harriet Beecher Stowe was present, and others of that
eminent family. Likewise his old Quaker City comrades, Moses S. and Emma
Beach. It was a brilliant gathering, a conclave of intellectual gods--a
triumph to be there for one who had been a printer-boy on the banks of
the Mississippi, and only a little while before a miner with pick and
shovel. It was gratifying to be so honored; it would be pleasant to
write home; but the occasion lacked something too--everything, in
fact--for when he ran his eye around the board the face of the minature
was not there.

Still there were compensations; inadequate, of course, but pleasant
enough to remember. It was Sunday evening and the party adjourned to
Plymouth Church. After services Mr. Beecher invited him to return home
with him for a quiet talk. Evidently they had a good time, for in the
letter telling of these things Samuel Clemens said: "Henry Ward Beecher
is a brick."

LXV. A CONTRACT WITH ELISHA BLISS, JR.

He returned to Washington without seeing Miss Langdon again, though he
would seem to have had permission to write--friendly letters. A
little later (it was on the evening of January 9th) he lectured in
Washington--on very brief notice indeed. The arrangement for his
appearance had been made by a friend during his absence--"a friend,"
Clemens declared afterward, "not entirely sober at the time." To his
mother he wrote:

I scared up a doorkeeper and was ready at the proper time, and by pure
good luck a tolerably good house assembled and I was saved. I hardly
knew what I was going to talk about, but it went off in splendid style.

The title of the lecture delivered was "The Frozen Truth"--"more truth
in the title than in the lecture," according to his own statement. What
it dealt with is not remembered now. It had to do with the Quaker City
trip, perhaps, and it seems to have brought a financial return which was
welcome enough. Subsequently he delivered it elsewhere; though just how
far the tour extended cannot be learned from the letters, and he had bu