forever.
Sometimes they took the train as far as Bloomfield, a little station
on the way, and walked the rest of the distance, or they took the train
from Bloomfield home. It seems a strange association, perhaps, the
fellowship of that violent dissenter with that fervent soul dedicated to
church and creed, but the root of their friendship lay in the frankness
with which each man delivered his dogmas and respected those of his
companion.

It was during one of their walks to the tower that they planned a far
more extraordinary undertaking--nothing less, in fact, than a walk from
Hartford to Boston. This was early in November. They did not delay the
matter, for the weather was getting too uncertain.

Clemens wrote Redpath:

DEAR REDPATH,--Rev. J. H. Twichell and I expect to start at 8 o'clock
Thursday morning to walk to Boston in twenty four hours--or more. We
shall telegraph Young's Hotel for rooms Saturday night, in order to
allow for a low average of pedestrianism.

It was half past eight on Thursday morning, November 12, 1874, that they
left Twichell's house in a carriage, drove to the East Hartford bridge,
and there took to the road, Twichell carrying a little bag and Clemens a
basket of lunch.

The papers had got hold of it by this time, and were watching the
result. They did well enough that first day, following the old Boston
stage road, arriving at Westford about seven o'clock in the evening,
twenty-eight miles from the starting-point. There was no real hotel at
Westford, only a sort of tavern, but it afforded the luxury of rest.
"Also," says Twichell, in a memoranda of the trip, "a sublimely profane
hostler whom you couldn't jostle with any sort of mild remark without
bringing down upon yourself a perfect avalanche of oaths."

This was a joy to Clemens, who sat behind the stove, rubbing his lame
knees and fairly reveling in Twichell's discomfiture in his efforts to
divert the hostler's blasphemy. There was also a mellow inebriate
there who recommended kerosene for Clemens's lameness, and offered as
testimony the fact that he himself had frequently used it for stiffness
in his joints after lying out all night in cold weather, drunk:
altogether it was a notable evening.

Westford was about as far as they continued the journey afoot. Clemens
was exceedingly lame next morning, and had had a rather bad night; but
he swore and limped along six miles farther, to North Ashford, then
gave it up. They drove from N