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Below is a sampling of newspaper and magazine pieces from around the country, indicating how much interest there apparently was
in the ironic wisdom of David Wilson: From the St. Paul Daily News (St. Paul, Minnesota, 30 January 1894): Mark Twain, in the February Century. It is easy to find fault, if one has that disposition. There was once a man who, not being able to find any other fault with his coal, complained that there were too many prehistoric toads in it. When angry, count four; when very angry, swear. There are three infallible ways of pleasing an author, and the three form a rising scale of compliment: 1, to tell him you have read one of his books; 2, to tell him you have read all of his books; 3, to ask him to let you read the manuscript of his forthcoming book. No. 1 admits you to his respect; No. 2 admits you to his admiration; No. 3 carries you clear into his heart. From the News-Observer-Chronicle (Raleigh, North Carolina, 1 February 1894): Mark Twain in February Century. It is easy to find fault, if one has that disposition. There was once a man who, not being able to find any other fault with his coal, complained that there were too many prehistoric toads in it. When angry, count four; when very angry, swear. There are three infallible ways of pleasing an author, and the three form a rising scale of compliment: 1, to tell him you have read one of his books; 2, to tell him you have read all of his books; 3, to ask him to let you read the manuscript of his forthcoming book. No. 1 admits you to his respect; No. 2 admits you to his admiration; No. 3 carries you clear into his heart. From Yenowine's Illustrated News (Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 31 March 1894): Extracts from the Calendar of Pudd'nhead Wilson, in The Century. Behold the fool saith, "Put not all thine eggs in the one basket"--which is but a manner of saying, "Scatter your money, and your attention"; but the wise man saith, "Put all your eggs in the one basket and--WATCH THAT BASKET." If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous, he will not bite you. This is the principal difference between a dog and a man. We know all about the habits of the ant, we know all about the habits of the bee, but we know nothing at all about the habits of the oyster. It seems almost certain that we have been choosing the wrong time for studying the oyster. Even popularity can be overdone. In Rome, along at first, you are full of regrets that Michael Angelo died; but by and by you only regret that you didn't see him do it. July 4. Statistics show that we lose more fools on this day than in all the other days of the year put together. This proves, by the number left in stock, that one Fourth of July per year is no inadequate, the country has grown so. From Congregationalist (Boston, Massachusetts, 14 June 1894): Adam was but human--this explains it all. He did not want the apple for the apple's sake--he wanted it only because it was forbidden. The mistake was in not forbidding the serpent; then he would have eaten the serpent. Let us endeavor to live so that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry.--Mark Twain. Wilson's sayings also quickly began showing up in a wide range of contexts: From Southern Planter (Richmond, Virginia, April 1894): In setting apart the land for various crops, don't neglect to set out a plot of good land sufficiently large to raise plenty of watermelons, at least for home use, and, if near enough to market, to have some for sale. They are not so much a luxury as a necessity in the hot weather, and no farmer should be without them. They require good rich land full of humus, and though the seed should not be planted before the ground is well warmed by the sun, yet the land may well be got ready in advance. Put a few forkfulls of good farm pen manure in each hill and mix with the soil and cover with rich earth. The hills should be twelve feet apart each way. From The Musical Visitor, a Magazine of Musical Literature and Music (Cincinnati, Ohio, May 1894): MARK TWAIN makes Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar say: "Nothing so needs reforming as other people's habits." This seems to be the attitude which pianists and vocalists too often assume in reference to each other. A great deal of pleasure can be gotten out of life by looking only for the good in others and refusing to dwell upon their faults. Try and see. From The Century (New York, July 1894): IF Mark Twain had been a soldier himself, and had felt that mortal chill which strikes a fellow when the bullets begin to whistle and his comrades begin to fall on right and left, he couldn't know more about it. When, in 1861, I went into Company B, 2d Virginia Regiment, Stonewall Brigade, as a private, and was marched to Harper's Ferry, one of my fellow-privates was John P— E—, of the same company. He was a plain, hard-working young carpenter, and a day or two before had married a pretty young wife. Jackson's brigade never had much play or rest, and when the first battle came they were in it, and so on to Appomattox. John P— was not one of those rare heroes who "didn't know what fear was." He knew very well, but always met it face to face. He said he was always "scared to death" in battle, but he had a curious way of showing it. When the battle was joined, and blood and ruin were everywhere, then, wherever the front rank of danger and fighting was in his regiment, there was John P—, with shaking legs, pale face, and tears running down his cheeks, ready to advance with the first, staying with the last that retreated. Then and there, without shout or boast, firing steadily, he did his duty until the last shot had been fired. When picket duty demanded special reliability he was sent. He might have moaned inwardly, but he never tried to escape. Once (I was a captain then), when he was complaining of his own cowardice, I said to him: "If you are half as afraid in battle as you say you are, how can you keep from running away? I couldn't." "Why, captain," he replied, "do you think I'd disgrace that little wife I left at home for half a dozen such 'or'nary' lives as mine?" "Well, John, if all of General Lee's army were such cowards as you are, we'd capture Washington and end the war this campaign," was all that I could answer. John P— and his wife survived the war, and they have a houseful of children. He is just as faithful and trustworthy in peace as he was in war, leading a quiet and respected life. When I think of his constitutional infirmity, and the sense of duty and manly courage which conquered it, I feel that no braver man ever In the old Stonewall brigade. |