MARE TWAIN IN LONDON.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XX, Issue 23, 25 March 1892, Page 31

MARE TWAIN IN LONDON.

(From the Idler.) WHAT do I know about Mark Twain ? Not much. Nothing that is not pleasant. I would stick to that even if I were under oross. examination. No amonnt of bullying should induce me to try and remember anything that is not to his credit, as a man, an author, and— a champion prevaricator. I don't know when I have liked him most-when he has been telling the truth, and when he has not. Wn.it a pleasant, tantalising little kind of stammer it is I Charles Lamb's was a real stutter— it must have been ?ety deliphtf ul ; and Travers, of Nsw York, how captivating was his impediment. "Why, MrTravew," said a lady, "yon stammer more in New York than yon did in Baltimore." "B—b— bigger place," stammered Tracers. M A chestnut you lay t Well, wbat of that ! There are ohestnu t 8 and chestnuts. Some men's chestnuts are better worth having than other men's newest stories. But, as I was saying, Mark Twain's is not exactly a stutter ; it is a drawl ; not perhaps a drawl. Is it •imply that he pauses in the right place 1 Or has he a dialect t It is quite clear he knows the value of his peculiarity of speech whatever it is. Did you hear him lecture in London f The point that broke the general titter into a hearty laugh was when he talked about that very cold mountain out in Fiji or somewhere ; •• it is so cold up there that people can't speak the truth-I know, because I have been there." When Mark Twain paid his earliest visit to London, he did ma the honour once or twice to sit under my mahogany. The first time he came to my house it was to meet some thirty pleasant people at •upper. It was his first entertainment in town. He was very desirous of observing the customs of the country. He came in a dress coat. That was all right. He was very glad he had put on his dress coat. Ho took the late Mrs Howard Paul, a very dtver, charming woman, down to supper. He consulted her touching certain social customs. She was in her way quite a humorist, and in those days a bright and lively woman. Knowing that on no account did I ever permit speechmaking at my table ; knowing, indeed, that even in artistic society this kind of thing is never resorted to, she explained to Mark Twain that quite the contrary was the case, that if he desired really to •how that he was up to all the little tricks of the great world of London be would, as the greatest stranger, if not the most important guest, rise and propose the host's health ; that everybody would expect it of him, and so on. Presently, to the astonishment of everybody, Mark Twain arose, tall and gaunt, and began to drawl out in his odd if fascinating manner a series of complimentary comments upon the host, at the same time apologising for not being quite prepared with a speech, for the reason that the lady on his right bad been instructing him all the night with personal stories of everybody at the table. The table iquirmed a littlo at this. It had •• no call " to squirm. It was above reproach. Genius, beaaty, wealth, and even the nobility (he was a real lord if he wa9 but a little one) were well represented ; but you might have thought from his manner that Mark Twain had heard some very strange stories of bis fellowguests. It was a happy, clever, odd little speech ; and both he and Mrs Paul were forgiven— he for making it, sho for misleading him as to the manners and customs of the world of Upper Bohemia. If you are a humorist you can make mistakes that are condoned as witticisms ; you can even be stupid, and some one will find fun in your very stupidity. People have always half a grin on their faces ready for the professed humorist before he begins to speak. I am not a humorist. One night at Kensington Gore, when the late Mr Batemao, the Lyceum manager, lived there, Irving told to Mark Twain and half-a-dozen others a very good story about a sheep. It waß a very racy story, racy of the soil, I said, the soil being Scotland. Irving told it well, dramatising some of the incidents as he went along. lie was encouraged to do so by the deep interest Twaia took in it. I suggested to Twain that be should make a note of it ; it seemed to me that it was one of those nationally characteristic anecdotes that was worth remembering, because it was characteristic and national. Twain said, " Yes, he thought it a good idea to make a note or two of English humour— of national aneodotes in particular." He took out a small book, and quite won my heart by the modest, quiet way in which he made hia memoranda about this story ; I even gave him oce or two points about it — fresh points. We were sitting in a corner of the room by this time, chatting in a friendly way, and Mark Twain seemed more than necessarily grateful for my suggestions. I bad reason afterwards to wonder whether he thought I was chaffing him, or whether he was chaffing me. I did not know any mort than Irving did that the story about the sheep was really one of Mark Twain's own stories.

I was ionocent enough about it anyway, and Irving had never heard, I'll be bound, of the Hotten volume in wbich the narrative of the theep and the good Samaritan had been set forth iv Twain's best manner. It is quite possible that to this day Mark Twain is under the impression that I was engaged in a pleasant piece of fooling at

Bateman's that night, and believed himself to be just as pleasantly checkmating me. Of course he saw through the whole business. He pretended to fall into my little trap, which was not a trap at all . Perhaps he thought I was a humorist.