CategoryLiterature

Palace of Saint Nicholas in the Moon
Christmas Morning

My Dear Susy Clemens,

I have received and read all the letters which you and your little sister have written me . . . .

One calamity to which the death of Mr. Dickens dooms this country has not awakened the concern to which its gravity entitles it. We refer to
Continue Reading

Consider that a conversation by telephone–when you are simply siting by and not taking any part in that conversation–is one of the solemnest curiosities of modern
Continue Reading

Once or twice a year I get a letter of a certain pattern, a pattern that never materially changes, in form and substance, yet I cannot
Continue Reading

I found that a person of large intelligence could read this beautiful language with considerable facility without a dictionary, but I presently found that to such
Continue Reading

These two were distantly related to each other–seventh cousins, or something of that sort. While still babies they became orphans, and were adopted by the Brants,
Continue Reading

Two or three persons having at different times intimated that if I would write an autobiography they would read it when they got leisure, I yield
Continue Reading

One of the saddest things that ever came under my notice (said the banker’s clerk) was there in Corning, during the war. Dan Murphy enlisted as
Continue Reading

From My Unpublished Autobiography Some days ago a correspondent sent in an old typewritten sheet, faded by age, containing the following letter over the signature of
Continue Reading

Chapter I In the morning of life came a good fairy with her basket, and said: “Here are gifts. Take one, leave the others. And be
Continue Reading

The Humorous Story an American Development.–Its Difference from Comic and Witty Stories. I do not claim that I can tell a story as it ought to
Continue Reading

The nervous, dapper, “peart” young man took the chair I offered him, and said he was connected with the Daily Thunderstorm, and added: “Hoping it’s no
Continue Reading