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Mark Twain's Letters — Volume 1 (1835-1866) by Mark Twain
page 68 of 146 (46%)
Moffett, Thos. Nye" and three others. It is situated on "Sam Clemens
Bay"--so named by Capt. Nye--and it goes by that name among the
inhabitants of that region. I had better stop about "the Lake," though,
--for whenever I think of it I want to go there and die, the place is so
beautiful. I'll build a country seat there one of these days that will
make the Devil's mouth water if he ever visits the earth. Jim Lampton
will never know whether I laid a claim there for him or not until he
comes here himself. We have now got about 1,650 feet of mining ground
--and if it proves good, Mr. Moffett's name will go in--if not, I can get
"feet" for him in the Spring which will be good. You see, Pamela, the
trouble does not consist in getting mining ground--for that is plenty
enough--but the money to work it with after you get it is the mischief.
When I was in Esmeralda, a young fellow gave me fifty feet in the "Black
Warrior"--an unprospected claim. The other day he wrote me that he had
gone down eight feet on the ledge, and found it eight feet thick--and
pretty good rock, too. He said he could take out rock now if there were
a mill to crush it--but the mills are all engaged (there are only four of
them) so, if I were willing, he would suspend work until Spring. I wrote
him to let it alone at present--because, you see, in the Spring I can go
down myself and help him look after it. There will then be twenty mills
there. Orion and I have confidence enough in this country to think that
if the war will let us alone we can make Mr. Moffett rich without its
ever costing him a cent of money or particle of trouble. We shall lay
plenty of claims for him, but if they never pay him anything, they will
never cost him anything, Orion and I are not financiers. Therefore, you
must persuade Uncle Jim to come out here and help us in that line.
I have written to him twice to come. I wrote him today. In both letters
I told him not to let you or Ma know that we dealt in such romantic
nonsense as "brilliant prospects," because I always did hate for anyone
to know what my plans or hopes or prospects were--for, if I kept people
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