The Anaconda standard. [volume] (Anaconda, Mont.) 1889-1970, 1898-11-09
Former Nevada Chum of Mark
Twain Gives "reminiscences.
CLEMENS POWERFUL PEN
On q Meagre Salary. lust After He Had
Bought n Gold Mine for Two Dollars
and q Ham-His Discovery OF a
Love Affair Of Long Ago.

rial of 'Roughing II" was gathered.
came into his broken silver camp last
week. He was Immediately and hastily
preceded by Johnnie Corxscrew," aged
30 years. the most dishonest burro that
ever wore a pack saddle. Old Man
Hearst Is working a claim on the other
side of the Black Range in he Carpen-
ter district. where he ays 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 toma-
to can"
AS usual. the old man announced his
shame at having TO mingle with bust
ed hold-ups and n-hor gamblers
who now make up the chief part of
this ruined camp, announcing profanely
and boldly that an empty grub box
was the sole justification 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 a dig
niied drunk, pack JOHNNY with bacon,
Hour and baking powder and depart at
the end OF one week to the exact hour,
returning to the tunnel he Is running
to display the glories of his veins TO
some Eastern gent with thousands
of dollars.
Hearst marched into the H~ole-in-the-
Wall saloon and called for n drink,
while the burro failed In his attempt
to chew a silver-mounted sombrero
from the hea of a sleeping Mexican
and wandered TO 1.-The store" to see IL he
could pick up a stray bacon rind.
lou OF which bother" asked Bud
Goings, the barkeeper. turning toward
a row Of old bottles with well-known
labels on them.
Don't throw any such bIuh at me.
Bud" replied the old man reproach-
fully. 1T all comes from the same bar
rel of vitriol. 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, II don seem to savvy
the gent who has just told Terrible
Watson he will chew his heart out.
1t sounds all right. but that young
man don't look like a citizen of this rot
ten camp"
That's only his trying to talk fash
ionable.'' replied the barkeep. He's a
newspaper 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
matter. ! know, for the best pardner ]
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 cor
daily:
Don't never get discouraged. but
put water in IL and you'll get all right.
I naturally loves you because years ago
back in Nevada my side pardner was a
newspaper man. Sam was his name.
Sam L. Clemens. You in the East call
him Mark Twain, but when i saw him
in Frisco four years ago he rared be-
cause I called him Mr.. Twain.
"'Hell. George he says. quick. what
sort of a play do you call that to make
on a man who has chewed your bacon
and slept in your blankets? I'm Sam
Clemens yet, though i 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
interesting chat.
1T was years ago which Sam n /
were pardners in prospecting back i'm
Virginia City, New. Sam also acted as
correspondent for the old Sacramento
Union and for a daily in San Francis
co. i forgot its name. He had drifted
into Nevada with the idea some one
might take him for the Almighty. but
they didn't. so he divided his time be-
tween mines and writing for the pa
pers. Mines were booming then. and
the papers gave Nevada most as much
attention as they now give to these
mushy Klondike yarns. On paper we
all 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 yell I heard from
Dan he was editor of a PAPER In Salt
Lake City.
They were grand liars. all OF 'em.
but Sam vas lead hoss. They used TO
get together and lay for returning
prospectors in Billy Fairs saloon. Here
they three would sort of assay up the
tips the prospectors gave them and
stake IL out so that each paper could
prove up by the others. 1t was beau
tiful to see how loyal they were TO
ach other in distributing ideas. Facts
might be few, but as Sam would say.
What OF it?'
No. George Sam says to me when
/ r~eproached him about their lack OF
reverence 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 pit
eously small and weak ms emaciated
beside the grandeur OF my stories.
Were IL not that l. have just bought
what I can prove to be one Of the rich
est gold mines in the world for 81 and
a ham, i could not afford to let Billy
Fair support me thus s~plendidly.'
"One day / came in from a long
prospecting trip to find the boys laying
for me at the open Barrel I had
made 10 strike and was warming up
my brain to recollect something the
boys might write about when I re-
membered how I had come upon a
swamp down In a valley where the soil
was pure salt and the deer had worn
deep hollows by hundreds OF years of
licking and paving. Sam said IL was
a cursed small recollect for five drinks.
but he cinched his fingers to a pencil
at once. having doubts as TO his men,
DRY under existing circumstances. I
don't want TO lose one bare. stern fact
of this marvellous story says he. You
are sure you do not magnify the facts.
| Gaorga9 n like 70 faal 1 can raIv ~, sho