The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1898-10-25
TRUTH HANDICAPPED TWAIN.
AS A MINING REPORTER MARK
HAD NO USE FOR FACTS.

the HumOrfst Wrote His Early
stories--A Vivid Imagination That
Ran Riot at All Times-HOw Some
Missouri Girls Dropped to His
FIattcry and Tricked Him at the
TabIe-EarIy Days In the Silver
Camps.
From the Chicago Inter Ocean.
Old Man Hearst, the veteran prospector,
who was Mark Twains partner in the
days of long ago, when the material Of
'Roughing IT, was gathered. came into
this broken silver camp last week. He
was Immediately and hastily preceded by
Johnny Corkscrew, aged 80 years, the most
dishonest burro that ever wore a pack sad
die. Old Man Hearst is working a claim
on the other side of the Black range, in
the Carpenter district, where he says he
has a fortune waiting for some Eastern
gent with "A few thousand to open the
richest proposition that was ever staked
out with rock piles and recorded in a to-
mato can"
AS usual. the old man announced his
shame at having to mingle with busted
hold-ups apd tin-horn gamblers who
now make up the chief part of the ruined
camp, announcing profanely and boldly
that an empty grub box was the sole jus
tihcation he could plead for the presence
of Johnny Corkscrew and himself. 1t is
this prospector's habit to take up a brief
residence in one of the deserted houses,
start dignifed drunk, pack Johnny with
bacon, -four and baking powder, and de-
part at the end of one week to the exact
hour. returning to the tunnel he Is run.
ming, TO display the glories of his VEN
TO some Eastern gent" with thousands.
Hearst marched into the Hoe-in-the-
Wall saloon and called for a drink while
the burro failed in his attempt to chew
silver-mounted sombrero from the head of
a sleeping Mexican and wandered TO "the
store TO see il he could pick up a stray
bacon rind
''Out of which bottle?" asked Bud Co
ings. the barkeeper, turning toward a row
of old bottles with well-known labels on
them.
Don't throw any such bluff at me Bud
replied the old man, reproachfully. 1T
all comes from the same barrel of yitriol.
Keep your labels for the Greasers' He
turned to survey the poker game that was
going on as usual in the back part of the
saloon Bud he remarked Il don't
seem to savvy the gent who has just told
Terrible Watson he win chew his heart
out. II sounds ali right, but that young
man don't look like a citizen of this rotten
camp"
That's only his trying to talk fashion,
able replied the barkeep. He's a news
paper man from back East, and he's got
lungs"
Old Man Hearst began to smile and
beam.
Don't shout no such shouts at me-
Bud" he whispered hoarsely. IF he's a
newspaper man it's drink that's the mat
ter. know, for the best partner l ever had
was a newspaper man, and I've warmed
to the breed ever since, though I've never
seen Sans like again."
He STROBE TO the table, leaned over the
strange young man and said cordially:
Don't never get discouraged, but put
water In il and you'll get all right
naturally loves you, because years ago,
back in Nevada, my side partner was a
newspaper man. Sam was his name-Sam
l.. Clemens. You In the East all call hin.
Mark Twain, but when l saw him in
Frisco four years ago he rared because
called him Mr.. Twain.
" Hell, Goergen he says quick, what
sort of play do you call that to make
on man who has chewed your bacon
and slept in your blankets? I'm Sam
Clemens yet, though / wear a boiled shirt
solely out of Difference to an effete public
opinion,
Where did you know Mark Twain ?"
asked the newspaper man, deserving the
game for what promised to be an Interest,"
ing chat.
1T was years ago, when Sam and
We're pardners in prospecting back in Viz
ginia City, New. Sam also acted as cor
respondent for the old Sacramento Union,
and for daily in San Francisco. I forget
its name He had drifted into Nevada,
with the idea that some one might take
him for the Almighty, but they didn't so,
he divided his time between the mines and
writing for the papers. Mines We're boom
ing then, and the papers gave Nevada
most as much attention as they now give
TO these mushy Klondike yarns. On paper,
we AL were richer than rustlers, but we
most generally owed for our grub. There
were two other newspaper men In camp
besides Sam Clemens-Petey Dickinson,
now an editor in New York, and Dan de
Quill, whose real name was Brown The
last yen / heard from Dan he was editor
of paper in Salt Lake City.
They were grand liars, all of 'em, but
Sam was head boss. They used to get to-
gether and lay for returning prospectors
in Billy Fairs saloon. Here they three
would sort of assay up the tips the pros
pectors gave them, and stake II out so
that each paper could prove up by the
others. 1t was beautiful 10 see how foyal
they were to each other in distributing
ideas. Facts might be few, but, as Sam
would say; What of it?'
No, George Sam says to me when
reproached him about their lack of rever-
ence for the majesty of truth, I may not
wear the white flower of a blameless life
but sure send down copy that makes my
salary look piteously small and weak and
emaciated beside the granduer of my sto-
ries. Were it not that have just bought
what | can prove TO be the richest gold
mines in the world for s. and ham,
could not afford to let Billy Fair support
me thus splendidy.'
"One day l came in from a long pros
pectins trip 10 find the boys laying for
me at the Open Barrel l had made no
strike and was warming up my brain 10
recollect something the boys might write
about when l remembered how / had
come upon a swamp down in a valley
where the soil was pure salt and the
deer had worn deer holows by hundreds
of years of licking and paving. Sam
said ii was a cursed small recollect for
five drinks, but he clinched his fingers