longer. As if to make their appeal the more imperative, the following
appeared in one of the papers the very next day:

BEHOLD THE MAN!--The independent candidate still maintains silence.
Because he dare not speak. Every accusation against him has been
amply proved, and they have been indorsed and reindorsed by his own
eloquent silence, till at this day he stands forever convicted.
Look upon your candidate, Independents! Look upon the Infamous
Perjurer! the Montana Thief! the Body-Snatcher! Contemplate your
incarnate Delirium Tremens! your Filthy Corruptionist! your
Loathsome Embracer! Gaze upon him--ponder him well--and then say if
you can give your honest votes to a creature who has earned this
dismal array of titles by his hideous crimes, and dares not open his
mouth in denial of any one of them!

There was no possible way of getting out of it, and so, in deep
humiliation, I set about preparing to "answer" a mass of baseless charges
and mean and wicked falsehoods. But I never finished the task, for the
very next morning a paper came out with a new horror, a fresh malignity,
and seriously charged me with burning a lunatic asylum with all its
inmates, because it obstructed the view from my house. This threw me
into a sort of panic. Then came the charge of poisoning my uncle to get
his property, with an imperative demand that the grave should be opened.
This drove me to the verge of distraction. On top of this I was accused
of employing toothless and incompetent old relatives to prepare the food
for the foundling' hospital when I warden. I was wavering--wavering.
And at last, as a due and fitting climax to the shameless persecution
that party rancor had inflicted upon me, nine little toddling children,
of all shades of color and degrees of raggedness, were taught to rush
onto the platform at a public meeting, and clasp me around the legs and
call me PA!

I gave it up. I hauled down my colors and surrendered. I was not equal
to the requirements of a Gubernatorial campaign in the state of New York,
and so I sent in my withdrawal from the candidacy, and in bitterness of
spirit signed it, "Truly yours, once a decent man, but now

"MARK TWAIN, LP., M.T., B.S., D.T., F.C., and L.E."

A MYSTERIOUS VISIT

The first notice that was taken of me when I "settled down" recently was
by a gentleman who said he was an assessor, and