Tell Margaret that if you ever come to live in California, that you can promise her a home for a hundred years, and a bully one--but she wouldn't like the country.Some people are malicious enough to think that if the devil were set at liberty and told to confine himself to Nevada Territory, that he would come here--and look sadly around, awhile, and then get homesick and go back to hell again.But I hardly believe it, you know.I am saying, mind you, that Margaret wouldn't like the country, perhaps--nor the devil either, for that matter, or any other man but I like it.When it rains here, it never lets up till it has done all the raining it has got to do--and after that, there's a dry spell, you bet.Why, I have had my whiskers and moustaches so full of alkali dust that you'd have thought I worked in a starch factory and boarded in a flour barrel.
Since we have been here there has not been a fire--although the houses are built of wood.They "holler" fire sometimes, though, but I am always too late to see the smoke before the fire is out, if they ever have any.
Now they raised a yell here in front of the office a moment ago.I put away my papers, and locked up everything of value, and changed my boots, and pulled off my coat, and went and got a bucket of water, and came back to see what the matter was, remarking to myself, "I guess I'll be on hand this time, any way." But I met a friend on the pavement, and he said, "Where you been? Fire's out half an hour ago."Ma says Axtele was above "suspition"--but I have searched through Webster's Unabridged, and can't find the word.However, it's of no consequence--I hope he got down safely.I knew Axtele and his wife as well as I know Dan Haines.Mrs.A.once tried to embarrass me in the presence of company by asking me to name her baby, when she was well aware that I didn't know the sex of that Phenomenon.But I told her to call it Frances, and spell it to suit herself.That was about nine years ago, and Axtele had no property, and could hardly support his family by his earnings.He was a pious cuss, though.Member of Margaret Sexton's Church.
And Ma says "it looks like a man can't hold public office and be honest."Why, certainly not, Madam.A man can't hold public office and be honest.
Lord bless you, it is a common practice with Orion to go about town stealing little things that happen to be lying around loose.And I don't remember having heard him speak the truth since we have been in Nevada.
He even tries to prevail upon me to do these things, Ma, but I wasn't brought up in that way, you know.You showed the public what you could do in that line when you raised me, Madam.But then you ought to have raised me first, so that Orion could have had the benefit of my example.
Do you know that he stole all the stamps out of an 8 stamp quartz mill one night, and brought them home under his over-coat and hid them in the back room?
Yrs.etc., SAM
A little later he had headed for the Esmeralda Hills.Some time in February he was established there in a camp with a young man by the name of Horatio Phillips (Raish).Later he camped with Bob Howland, who, as City Marshal of Aurora, became known as the most fearless man in the Territory, and, still later, with Calvin H.Higbie (Cal), to whom 'Roughing It' would one day be dedicated.His own funds were exhausted by this time, and Orion, with his rather slender salary, became the financial partner of the firm.
It was a comfortless life there in the Esmeralda camp.Snow covered everything.There was nothing to do, and apparently nothing to report; for there are no letters until April.Then the first one is dated Carson City, where he seems to be making a brief sojourn.It is a rather heavy attempt to be light-hearted; its playfulness suggests that of a dancing bear.
To Mrs.Jane Clemens, in St.Louis:
CARSON CITY, April 2, 1862.
MY DEAR MOTHER,--Yours of March 2nd has just been received.I see I am in for it again--with Annie.But she ought to know that I was always stupid.She used to try to teach me lessons from the Bible, but I never could understand them.Doesn't she remember telling me the story of Moses, one Sunday, last Spring, and how hard she tried to explain it and simplify it so that I could understand it--but I couldn't? And how she said it was strange that while her ma and her grandma and her uncle Orion could understand anything in the world, I was so dull that I couldn't understand the "ea-siest thing?" And doesn't she remember that finally a light broke in upon me and I said it was all right--that I knew old Moses himself--and that he kept a clothing store in Market Street? And then she went to her ma and said she didn't know what would become of her uncle Sam he was too dull to learn anything--ever! And I'm just as dull yet.Now I have no doubt her letter was spelled right, and was correct in all particulars--but then I had to read it according to my lights; and they being inferior, she ought to overlook the mistakes I make specially, as it is not my fault that I wasn't born with good sense.I am sure she will detect an encouraging ray of intelligence in that last argument.....
I am waiting here, trying to rent a better office for Orion.I have got the refusal after next week of a room on first floor of a fire-proof brick-rent, eighteen hundred dollars a year.Don't know yet whether we can get it or not.If it is not rented before the week is up, we can.
I was sorry to hear that Dick was killed.I gave him his first lesson in the musket drill.We had half a dozen muskets in our office when it was over Isbell's Music Rooms.
I hope I am wearing the last white shirt that will embellish my person for many a day--for I do hope that I shall be out of Carson long before this reaches you.
Love to all.
Very Respectfully SAM.
The "Annie" in this letter was his sister Pamela's little daughter;long years after, she would be the wife of Charles L.Webster, Mark Twain's publishing partner."Dick" the reader may remember as Dick Hingham, of the Keokuk printing-office; he was killed in charging the works at Fort Donelson.
