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.1explanatory note

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 poor publishers’ letters, & all that sort of imbecility, & about my not being an imitator, &c. Who would find out that I am a natural fool if I keep kept Ⓐemendationalways cool & never let nature come to the surface? Nobody.

But I did hate to be accused of plagiariszing Bret Harte, who trimmed & trained & schooled me patiently until he changed me from an awkward utterer of coarse grotesquenesses w to a writer of paragraphs & chapters that have found a certain favor in the eyes of even some of the very decentest people in the land—& 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.2explanatory note

Well it is funny, the reminiscences that glare out from murky corners of one’s memory, now & then, without warning. Just at this moment a picture flits before me: Scene—private room in Barnum’s Restaurant, Virginia, Nevada; present, Artemus Ward, Joseph T. Goodman, (editor & proprietor Daily “Enterprise”), & “Dan de Quille” & myself, reporters for same; remnants of the feast thin & scattering, but empty bottles such tautology & repetition of empty bottles everywhere Ⓐemendationvisible as to be offensive to the sensitive eye; time, 2.30 A.M.,3explanatory note Artemus thickly reciting a poem about a certain infant you wot of,4explanatory note & interrupting himself & being interrupted every few lines by poundings of the table & shouts of “Splennid, by Shorg zhe!” Finally, a long, vociferous, poundiferous & vitreous jingling of applause announces the conclusion, & then Artemus: “Let every man ‘at loves his fellow man & ‘preciates a poet ’at loves his fellow-man, stan’ up!—stan’ up & drink health & long life to Thomas Bailey Aldrich!—& drink it stanning!” {On all hands fervent, enthusiastic, & sincerely honest attempts to comply.} Then Artemus: “Well—consider it stanning, & drink it just as ye are!” Which was done.

You must excuse all this stuff from a stranger, but for the present, & when I see you I will apologize in full.

Do you know the prettiest fancy & the neatest that ever shot through Harte’s brain? It was this: When they were trying to decide upon a vignette for the cover of the Overland,5explanatory note a grizzly bear (of the arms of the State of California) was chosen. Nahl Bros.6explanatory note carved him & the page was printed, with him in it, looking thus:

X

As a bear, he was a success—he was a good bear. But Ⓐemendationthen, it was objected, that he was an objectless bear—a bear that meant nothing in particular, signified nothing,—simply stood there snarling over his shoulder at nothing—& was painfully & manifestly a boorish & ill-natured intruder upon the fair page. All hands said that—none were satisfied. They hated badly to give him up, & yet they hated as much to have him there when there was no point to him. But presently Harte Ⓐemendationtook a pencil & drew these two simple lines under his feet & behold he was a magnificent success!—the ancient symbol of Californian save savagery Ⓐemendation snarling at the approaching type of high & progressive Civilization, nu the first Overland locomotive!:7explanatory note

X

I just think that was nothing less than inspiration itself.

Once more I apologize, & this time I do it “stanning!”