the back-pay members contemplate making the round trip with us in case
their constituents will allow them a holiday. Every harmless amusement
will be allowed on board, but no pools permitted on the run of the comet
–no gambling of any kind. All fixed stars will be respected by us, but
such stars as seem, to need fixing we shall fix. If it makes trouble, we
shall be sorry, but firm.
Mr. Coggia having leased his comet to us, she will no longer be called by
his name, but by my partner’s. N. B.–Passengers by paying double fare
will be entitled to a share in all the new stars, suns, moons, comets,
meteors, and magazines of thunder and lightning we may discover. Patent-
medicine people will take notice that
WE CARRY BULLETIN-BOARDS
and a paint-brush along for use in the constellations, and are open to
terms. Cremationists are reminded that we are going straight to–some
hot places–and are open to terms. To other parties our enterprise is a
pleasure excursion, but individually we mean business. We shall fly our
comet for all it is worth.
FOR FURTHER PARTICULARS,
or for freight or passage, apply on board, or to my partner, but not to
me, since I do not take charge of the comet until she is under way.
It is necessary, at a time like this, that my mind should not be burdened
with small business details.
MARK TWAIN.
RUNNING FOR GOVERNOR –[Written about 1870.]
A few months ago I was nominated for Governor of the great state of New
York, to run against Mr. John T. Smith and Mr. Blank J. Blank on an
independent ticket. I somehow felt that I had one prominent advantage
over these gentlemen, and that was–good character. It was easy to see
by the newspapers that if ever they had known what it was to bear a good
name, that time had gone by. It was plain that in these latter years
they had become familiar with all manner of shameful crimes. But at the
very moment that I was exalting my advantage and joying in it in secret,
there was a muddy undercurrent of discomfort “riling” the deeps of my
happiness, and that was–the having to hear my name bandied about in
familiar connection with those of such people. I grew more and more
disturbed. Finally I wrote my grandmother about it. Her answer came
quick and sharp. She said:
You have never done one single thing in all your life to be ashamed
of–not one. Look at the newspapers–look at them and comprehend
what sort of characters Messrs. Smith and Blank are, and then see
if you are willing to lower yourself to their level and enter a
public canvass with them.
It was my very thought! I did not sleep a single moment that night.
But, after all, I could not recede.
I was fully committed, and must go on with the fight. As I was looking
listlessly over the papers at breakfast I came across this paragraph,
and I may truly say I never was so confounded before.
PERJURY.–Perhaps, now that Mr. Mark Twain is before the people as a
candidate for Governor, he will condescend to explain how he came to
be convicted of perjury by thirty-four witnesses in Wakawak, Cochin
China, in 1863, the intent of which perjury being to rob a poor
native widow and her helpless family of a meager plantain-patch,
their only stay and support in their bereavement and desolation.
Mr. Twain owes it to himself, as well as to the great people whose
suffrages he asks, to clear this matter up. Will he do it?
I thought I should burst with amazement! Such a cruel, heartless charge!
I never had seen Cochin China! I never had heard of Wakawak ! I didn’t
know a plantain-patch from a kangaroo! I did not know what to do. I was
crazed and helpless. I let the day slip away without doing anything at
all. The next morning the same paper had this–nothing more:
SIGNIFICANT.–Mr. Twain, it will be observed, is suggestively
silent about the Cochin China perjury.
[Mem.–During the rest of the campaign this paper never referred to me in