Susy began the Biography she let fall a remark now and then concerning my character which showed that she had it under observation. In the Record which we kept of the children’s sayings there is an instance of this. She was twelve years old at the time. We had established a rule that each member of the family must bring a fact to breakfast — a fact drawn from a book or from any other source; any fact would answer. Susy’s first contribution was in substance as follows. Two great exiles and former opponents in war met in Ephesus — Scipio and Hannibal. Scipio asked Hannibal to name the greatest general the world had produced.
“Alexander” — and he explained why.
“And the next greatest?”
“Pyrrhus” — and he explained why.
“But where do you place yourself, then?”
“If I had conquered you I would place myself before the others.”
Susy’s grave comment was —
“That attracted me, it was just like papa — he is so frank about his books.”
So frank in admiring them, she meant.
[Thursday, March 28, 1907.] Some months ago I commented upon a chapter of Susy’s Biography wherein she very elaborately discussed an article about the training and disciplining of children, which I had published in the “Christian Union” (this was twenty-one years ago), an article which was full of worshipful praises of Mrs. Clemens as a mother, and which little Clara, and Susy, and I had been hiding from this lovely and admirable mother because we knew she would disapprove of public and printed praises of herself. At the time that I was dictating these comments, several months ago, I was trying to call back to my memory some of the details of that article, but I was not able to do it, and I wished I had a copy of the article so that I could see what there was about it which gave it such large interest for Susy.
Yesterday afternoon I elected to walk home from the luncheon at the St. Regis, which is in 56th Street and Fifth Avenue, for it was a fine spring day and I hadn’t had a walk for a year or two, and felt the need of exercise. As I walked along down Fifth Avenue the desire to see that “Christian Union” article came into my head again. I had just reached the corner of 42nd Street then, and there was the usual jam of wagons, carriages, and automobiles there. I stopped to let it thin out before trying to cross the street, but a stranger, who didn’t require as much room as I do, came racing by and darted into a crack among the vehicles and made the crossing. But on his way past me he thrust a couple of ancient newspaper clippings into my hand, and said,
“There, you don’t know me, but I have saved them in my scrapbook for twenty years, and it occurred to me this morning that perhaps you would like to see them, so I was carrying them downtown to mail them, I not expecting to run across you in this accidental way, of course; but I will give them into your own hands now. Good-by!” — and he disappeared among the wagons.
Those scraps which he had put into my hand were ancient newspaper copies of that “Christian Union” article! It is a handsome instance of mental telegraphy — or if it isn’t that, it is a handsome case of coincidence.
From the Biography.
March 14th, ‘86. — Mr. Laurence Barrette and Mr. and Mrs. Hutton were here a little while ago, and we had a very interesting visit from them. Papa said Mr. Barette never had acted so well before when he had seen him, as he did the first night he was staying with us. And Mrs. — — said she never had seen an actor on the stage, whom she more wanted to speak with.
Papa has been very much interested of late, in the “Mind Cure” theory. And in fact so have we all. A young lady in town has worked wonders by using the “Mind Cure” upon people; she is constantly busy now curing peoples deseases in this way — and curing her own even, which to me seems the most remarkable of all.
A little while past, papa was delighted with the knowledge of what he thought the best way of curing a cold, which was by starving it. This starving did work beautifully, and freed him from a great many severe colds. Now he says it wasn’t the starving that helped his colds, but the trust in the starving, the mind cure connected with the starving.
I shouldn’t wonder if we finally became firm believers in Mind Cure. The next time papa has a cold, I haven’t a doubt, he will send for Miss H — — the young lady who is doctoring in the “Mind Cure” theory, to cure him of it.
Mamma was over at Mrs. George Warners to lunch the other day, and Miss H — — was there too. Mamma asked if anything as natural as near sightedness could be cured she said oh yes just as well as other deseases.
When mamma came home, she took me into her room, and told me that perhaps my nearsightedness could be cured by the “Mind Cure” and that she was going to have me try the treatment any way, there could be no harm in it, and there might be great good. If her plan succeeds there certainly will be a great deal in “Mind Cure” to my oppinion, for I am very near sighted and so is mamma, and I never expected there could be any more cure for it than for blindness, but now I dont know but what theres a cure for that.
It was a disappointment; her nearsightedness remained with her to the end. She was born with it, no doubt; yet, strangely enough, she must have been four years old, and possibly five, before we knew of its existence. It is not easy to understand how that could have happened. I discovered the defect by accident. I was halfway up the hall stairs one day at home, and was leading her by the hand, when I glanced back through the open door of the diningroom and saw what I thought she would recognise as a pretty picture. It was “Stray Kit,” the slender, the graceful, the sociable, the beautiful, the incomparable, the cat of cats, the tortoise-shell, curled up as round as a wheel and sound asleep on the fire-red cover of the dining-table, with a brilliant stream of sunlight falling across her. I exclaimed about it, but Susy said she could see nothing there, neither cat nor tablecloth. The distance was so slight — not more than twenty feet, perhaps — that if it had been any other child I should not have credited the statement.
From the Biography.
March 14th, ‘86. — Clara sprained her ankle, a little while ago, by running into a tree, when coasting, and while she was unable to walk with it she played solotaire with cards a great deal. While Clara was sick and papa saw her play solotaire so much, he got very much interested in the game, and finally began to play it himself a little, then Jean took it up, and at last mamma, even played it ocasionally; Jean’s and papa’s love for it rapidly increased, and now Jean brings the cards every night to the table and papa and mamma help her play, and before dinner is at an end, papa has gotten a separate pack of cards, and is playing alone, with great interest. Mamma and Clara next are made subject to the contagious solatair, and there are four solotaireans at the table; while you hear nothing but “Fill up the place” etc. It is dreadful! after supper Clara goes into the library, and gets a little red mahogany table, and placing it under the gas fixture seats herself and begins to play again, then papa follows with another table of the same discription, and they play solatair till bedtime.
We have just had our Prince and Pauper pictures taken; two groups and some little single ones. The groups (the Interview and Lady Jane Grey scene) were pretty good, the lady Jane scene was perfect, just as pretty as it could be, the Interview was not so good; and two of the little single pictures were very good indeed, but one was very bad. Yet on the whole we think they were a success.
Papa has done a great deal in his life I think, that is good, and very remarkable, but I think if he had had the advantages with which he could have developed the gifts which he has made no use of in writing his books, or in any other way for other peoples
