eled in the prospect at first, for he anticipated a large
increase to be derived from his purloined property; but suddenly, one
morning, he was aghast to find in the Spectator a signed letter from
Mark Twain, in which he was repudiated, referred to as "John Camden
Hottentot," an unsavory person generally. Hotten also sent a letter to
the Spectator, in which he attempted to justify himself, but it was
a feeble performance. Clemens prepared two other communications, each
worse than the other and both more destructive than the first one. But
these were only to relieve his mind. He did not print them. In one of
them he pursued the fancy of John Camden Hottentot, whom he offers as a
specimen to the Zoological Gardens.

It is not a bird. It is not a man. It is not a fish. It does not seem to
be in all respects a reptile. It has the body and features of a man, but
scarcely any of the instincts that belong to such a structure.... I am
sure that this singular little creature is the missing link between the
man and the hyena.

Hotten had preyed upon explorer Stanley and libeled him in a so-called.
biography to a degree that had really aroused some feeling against
Stanley in England. Only for the moment--the Queen invited Stanley
to luncheon, and newspaper criticism ceased. Hotten was in general
disrepute, therefore, so it was not worth while throwing a second brick
at him.

In fact, now that Clemens had expended his venom, on paper, Hotten
seemed to him rather an amusing figure than otherwise. An incident grew
out of it all, however, that was not amusing. E. P. Hingston, whom the
reader may remember as having been with Artemus Ward in Virginia City,
and one of that happy group that wined and dined the year away, had
been engaged by Hotten to write the introductory to his edition of
The Innocents Abroad. It was a well-written, highly complimentary
appreciation. Hingston did not dream that he was committing an offense,
nor did Clemens himself regard it as such in the beginning.

But Mark Twain's views had undergone a radical change, and with
characteristic dismissal of previous conditions he had forgotten that
he had ever had any other views than those he now held. Hingston was
in London, and one evening, at a gathering, approached Clemens with
outstretched hand. But Clemens failed to see Hingston's hand or to
recognize him. In after-years his conscience hurt him terribly for this.
He remembered it only with remorse and shame.