Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1883-01-19
MARK TWAIN II A FIX.

Pardon one depression from New York,
as l must say one word respecting friend
Just departed-Anthony Trollope. A
strong man was he, with great human
heart. A power has gone ont from Lon
don. a grand, steady, and sterling nature,
and honest ia all he did and said. There
is little Of the flash and sensation order OF
things to fascinate and fill the journals OF
to day. And co it is this substantial Pill
lar, which once bore more of London on It's
shoulders than most men know or London
is willing to concede, has passed away, ana
little is said. Strange he should have dleo
so sudden and SO toon, for physically ne
was the largest and most powerful OF
| large and powerful race OF men.
He always visited me on horseback
in dense old London-the east SIDE
and most humble quarter OF the
city-and. mounted on horse as large
and powerful proportionately as himself,
he was the marvel of the deniZsns as he
slowly rode through the crowded and dingy
streets. He was very partial to his saddle,
and had spent years on horseback in Aus
trslia. where his cons, or the most of the
them, are settled, and are now engaged in
raising sheep far in the interior. He had
rode all over South America and Mexico,
and while, think, he had little admira-
ton for my writings, he liked my prefer.
ence for the saddle, and we often rode
together. He did not like my big snowy
Mexican saddle, however, and on my in.
sisting on its superior advantages, he ar
ranged that should come to his country
place, where be would furnish the horses,
and we could put the qualities OF our
respective saddles to the test
remember at dinner at the Garrick
Club, which he had given to Mark Twain
and myself, he rode his favorite hobby, the
saddle, almost to the verge of anger. You
see, Mark Twain was then lecturing, or
about to lecture, on "Riding the Mustang"
| Trollope began to talk riding with the
soup, and endeavored hard to draw
the great humorist out and get the ad-
vantages of his long experience with the
mustang in the far west. But Mark was
silent and very thoughtful. He ezsayed
once or twice to talk about Jerusalem, and
even made some faint illusions to the old
masters. He went off eloquently on the
weather two or three times. But he left
the discussion of the question entirely to
TrolIope and myself, greatly to the disap.
pointment of the former. After dinner as
we sauntered back to Marks hotel 1.-THE
Edwards, ST. George Square,, where he
was living in great state on the same floor
with Disraeli, Mark pulled me up sud-
denly under lamp-post, and said in his
dry, slow, and inimitable way: ' Look
here, old boy, now why didu't you help me
out OF that boss business, eh?"
Didn't know you wanted any help,
Mark"
"Well, now, didn't you see me trying
to talk about Jerusalem and the weather
and the state of future puuishments !?
Why, look here And he pulled out of
his vest pocket a short dozen of little bits
of pasteboard. "See them? Tickets
for that riding-school in Queen street,
down by Hyde Park. [ bought a
dozen OF 'em the other day. Have eleven
left. Take 'em; take 'em all. I'll never
go back there as long as l live. I've ueed
one. got on one of the old mares there
and she scraped me off, and l won't back
there no more"
"What !" said I, don't you know how
to ride %
"Never was on a horse before, and
never will be again. But, you see, as
am lecturing on How to Ride Mus
tang thought l ought to know some
thing about horses. Bat know enough. J"
"But," said l, as we parted, "you don't
mean TO tell me you know nothing about
horses?"
"Nothing, nothing at all, and don't want
to. You see, Pm a steamboat man. -
joaquin Miller.