“Injun Joe,” “Jimmy Finn,” and “General Gaines” were prominent and very intemperate ne’er-do-weels in Hannibal two generations ago. Plenty of grayheads there remember them to this day, and can tell you about them. Isn’t it curious that two “town drunkards” and one half-breed loafer should leave behind them, in a remote Missourian village, a fame a hundred times greater and several hundred times more particularized in the matter of definite facts than Shakespeare left behind him in the village where he had lived the half of his lifetime? MARK TWAIN. THE END