Mark Twain's Letters — Volume 2 (1867-1875)Twain, Mark
General
Mark Twain's Letters — Volume 2 (1867-1875)
Twain, Mark
Authors, American -- 19th century -- Correspondence; Twain, Mark, 1835-1910 -- Correspondence
BUFFALO, Jan. 22, 1870.
DEAR SIR,--Please do not publish the note I sent you the other day about
“Hy. Slocum's” plagiarism entitled “Three Aces”--it is not important
enough for such a long paragraph. Webb writes me that he has put in a
paragraph about it, too--and I have requested him to suppress it. If you
would simply state, in a line and a half under “Literary Notes,” that
you mistook one “Hy. Slocum” (no, it was one “Carl Byng,” I perceive)
“Carl Byng” for Mark Twain, and that it was the former who wrote the
plagiarism entitled “Three Aces,” I think that would do a fair
justice without any unseemly display. But it is hard to be accused of
plagiarism--a crime I never have committed in my life.
Yrs. Truly
MARK TWAIN.
But this came too late. Aldrich replied that he could not be
prevented from doing him justice, as forty-two thousand copies of
the first note, with the editor's apology duly appended, were
already in press. He would withdraw his apology in the next number
of Every Saturday, if Mark Twain said so. Mark Twain's response
this time assumed the proportions of a letter.
*****
To Thomas Bailey Aldrich, in Boston:
472 DELAWARE ST., BUFFALO, Jan. 28.
DEAR MR. ALDRICH,--No indeed, don't take back the apology! Hang it,
I don't want to abuse a man's civility merely because he gives me the
chance.
I hear a good deal about doing things on the “spur of the moment”--I
invariably regret the things I do on the spur of the moment. That
disclaimer of mine was a case in point. I am ashamed every time I think
of my bursting out before an unconcerned public with that bombastic
pow-wow about burning publishers' letters, and all that sort of
imbecility, and about my not being an imitator, etc. Who would find out
that I am a natural fool if I kept always cool and never let nature come
to the surface? Nobody.
But I did hate to be accused of plagiarizing Bret Harte, who trimmed and
trained and schooled me patiently until he changed me from an awkward
utterer of coarse grotesquenesses to a writer of paragraphs and chapters
that have found a certain favor in the eyes of even some of the very
decentest people in the land--and this grateful remembrance of mine
ought to be worth its face, seeing that Bret broke our long friendship a
year ago without any cause or provocation that I am aware of.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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