When I woke at seven, they were leaving, thank goodness, and Mr.Longfellow had my only boots on, and his'n under his arm.

Says I, 'Hold on, there, Evangeline, what are you going to do with _them_! He says, 'Going to make tracks with 'em; because-- "'Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime; And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time.' As I said, Mr.Twain, you are the fourth in twenty-four hours--and I'm going to move; I ain't suited to a littery atmosphere." I said to the miner, "Why, my dear sir, _these_ were not the gracious singers to whom we and the world pay loving reverence and homage; these were impostors." The miner investigated me with a calm eye for a while; then said he, "Ah! impostors, were they?
Are _you_?
I did not pursue the subject, and since then I have not travelled on my _nom de guerre_ enough to hurt.

Such was the reminiscence I was moved to contribute, Mr.Chairman.In my enthusiasm I may have exaggerated the details a little, but you will easily forgive me that fault, since I believe it is the first time I have ever deflected from perpendicular fact on an occasion like this.
What I have said to Mrs.H.is true.

I did suffer during a year or two from the deep humiliations of that episode.

But at last, in 1888, in Venice, my wife and I came across Mr.and Mrs.A.P.