r. Slee, an agent of Mr. Langdon's, Clemens had engaged, as he
supposed, a boarding-house, quiet and unpretentious, for he meant to
start his married life modestly. Jervis Langdon had a plan of his own
for his daughter, but Clemens had received no inkling of it, and had full
faith in the letter which Slee had written, saying that a choice and
inexpensive boarding-house had been secured. When, about nine o'clock
that night, the party reached Buffalo, they found Mr. Slee waiting at the
station. There was snow, and sleighs had been ordered. Soon after
starting, the sleigh of the bride and groom fell behind and drove about
rather aimlessly, apparently going nowhere in particular. This disturbed
the groom, who thought they should arrive first and receive their guests.
He criticized Slee for selecting a house that was so hard to find, and
when they turned at last into Delaware Avenue, Buffalo's finest street,
and stopped before a handsome house, he was troubled concerning the
richness of the locality.

They were on the steps when the door opened and a perfect fairyland of
lights and decoration was revealed within. The friends who had gone
ahead came out with greetings to lead in the bride and groom. Servants
hurried forward to take bags and wraps. They were ushered inside; they
were led through beautiful rooms, all newly appointed and garnished. The
bridegroom was dazed, unable to understand the meaning of it all--the
completeness of their possession. At last his young wife put her hand
upon his arm.

"Don't you understand, Youth?" she said--that was always her name for
him. "Don't you understand? It is ours, all ours--everything--a gift
from father."

But still he could not quite grasp it, and Mr. Langdon brought a little
box and, opening it, handed them the deeds.

Nobody quite remembers what was the first remark that Samuel Clemens
made, but either then or a little later he said:

"Mr. Langdon, whenever you are in Buffalo, if it's twice a year, come
right here. Bring your bag and stay overnight if you want to. It
sha'n't cost you a cent."

XXXI.

MARK TWAIN IN BUFFALO

Mark Twain remained less than two years in Buffalo--a period of much
affliction.

In the beginning, prospects could hardly have been brighter. His
beautiful home seemed perfect. At the office he found work to his hand,
and enjoyed it. His co-editor, J. W. Larned, who sat across the table
from him, used to tell later how Mark enjoyed his wor