To see him over the billiard-table, five minutes later,one could easily fancy that Mark Twain, as well as the house, had been ,there always. It was filled with thepipes, soiled handkerchiefs, and other articles from the old overcoat. At the end ofOctober he wrote Howells: The weather turned cold, and we had to rush home, while I still lacked thirty thousand words. It was the closing scene of that pathetic passage in history from whichhe would later make his story, The Death Disc.
He re-read Carlyle's French Revolution during the summer at thefarm, and to Howells he wrote: How stunning are the changes whic The Pilgrims is a clubwith branches on both sides of the ocean, and Mark Twain, on either side,was a favorite associate. I don't ask you to vote at all. He was unfailing copy if they couldbut get a word with him.
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