When we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry Whenever I enjoy anything in art it means that it is poor Whereas we can think, we generally don't do it. Wheresoever she was, there was Eden Wife was a new kind of possession Wife was for years afflicted with freckles Won't be anybody for you to get acquainted with but God Won't you please say something funny? Woodrow Wilson Would you do it again if you had the chance? Wouldn't read that book again without a salary Ye shall be indifferent as to what your neighbor's religion is. Yes, we are a sufficiently comical invention, we humans. You sneer, you ships that pass me by You must never ask for wages Young people--school-girls in particular THE BOYS' LIFE OF MARK TWAIN by Albert Bigelow Paine [mt8bg10.txt]#3463 It was the 2d of February, 1870, that Samuel Clemens and Olivia Langdon were married. A few days before, he sat down one night and wrote to Jim Gillis, away out in the Tuolumne Hills, and told him of all his good fortune, recalling their days at Angel's Camp, and the absurd frog story, which he said had been the beginning of his happiness. In the five years since then he had traveled a long way, but he had not forgotten. "Roughing It," in fact, proved a very successful book. Like "The Innocents Abroad," it was the first of its kind, fresh in its humor and description, true in its picture of the frontier life he had known. In three months forty thousand copies had been sold, and now, after more than forty years, it is still a popular book. The life it describes is all gone--the scenes are changed. It is a record of a vanished time--a delightful history--as delightful to-day as ever. England fairly reveled in Mark Twain. At one of the great banquets, a roll of the distinguished guests was called, and the names properly applauded. Mark Twain, busily engaged in low conversation with his neighbor, applauded without listening, vigorously or mildly, as the others led. Finally a name was followed by a great burst of long and vehement clapping. This must be some very great person indeed, and Mark Twain, not to be outdone in his approval, stoutly kept his hands going when all others had finished. "Whose name was that we were just applauding?" he asked of his neighbor. --"Mark Twain's."