een found among a pile of bones
under a tree, from the limb of which was suspended a lasso and a buffalo
skull; this as evidence that the weapon was the genuine Allen which
Bemis had lost on that memorable Overland buffalo-hunt. Mark Twain
enjoyed that, and kept the old pepper-box as long as he lived. There
were letters from people with fads; letters from cranks of every
description; curious letters even from friends. Reginald Cholmondeley,
that lovely eccentric of Condover Hall, where Mr. and Mrs. Clemens had
spent some halcyon days in 1873, wrote him invitations to be at his
castle on a certain day, naming the hour, and adding that he had asked
friends to meet him. Cholmondeley had a fancy for birds, and spared
nothing to improve his collection. Once he wrote Clemens asking him
to collect for him two hundred and five American specimens, naming the
varieties and the amount which he was to pay for each. Clemens was to
catch these birds and bring them over to England, arriving at Condover
on a certain day, when there would be friends to meet him, of course.

Then there was a report which came now and then from another English
castle--the minutes of a certain "Mark Twain Club," all neatly and
elaborately written out, with the speech of each member and the
discussions which had followed--the work, he found out later, of another
eccentric; for there was no Mark Twain Club, the reports being just
the mental diversion of a rich young man, with nothing else to do.--[In
Following the Equator Clemens combined these two pleasant characters in
one story, with elaborations.]

Letters came queerly addressed. There is one envelope still in
existence which bears Clemens's name in elaborate design and a very
good silhouette likeness, the work of some talented artist. "Mark Twain,
United States," was a common address; "Mark Twain, The World," was also
used; "Mark Twain, Somewhere," mailed in a foreign country, reached him
promptly, and "Mark Twain, Anywhere," found its way to Hartford in due
season. Then there was a letter (though this was later; he was abroad
at the time), mailed by Brander Matthews and Francis Wilson, addressed,
"Mark Twain, God Knows Where." It found him after traveling half around
the world on its errand, and in his answer he said, "He did." Then some
one sent a letter addressed, "The Devil Knows Where." Which also reached
him, and he answered, "He did, too."

Surely this was the farthest horizon of fame.

Count