his lips quivered out a gentle "God bless you, Miss," and he burst into
tears. He made them write her name on a card for him, that he might not
forget it.

Pray for me, Mollie, and pray for my poor sinless brother.
Your unfortunate Brother,
SAML. L. CLEMENS.

P. S. I got here two days after Henry.


It is said that Mark Twain never really recovered from the tragedy
of his brother's death--that it was responsible for the serious,
pathetic look that the face of the world's greatest laugh-maker
always wore in repose.

He went back to the river, and in September of the same year, after
an apprenticeship of less than eighteen months, received his license
as a St. Louis and New Orleans pilot, and was accepted by his old
chief, Bixby, as full partner on an important boat. In Life on the
Mississippi Mark Twain makes the period of his study from two to two
and a half years, but this is merely an attempt to magnify his
dullness. He was, in fact, an apt pupil and a pilot of very high
class.

Clemens was now suddenly lifted to a position of importance. The
Mississippi River pilot of those days was a person of distinction,
earning a salary then regarded as princely. Certainly two hundred
and fifty dollars a month was large for a boy of twenty-three. At
once, of course, he became the head of the Clemens family. His