Daily Arizona silver belt., 1910-04-24
PREMIER APOSTLE OF CHEERFULNESS ON
 JOURNEY TO GRAVE
Continued From Page D

foundation of serious thought and noble affections and desires. The mark of his higher humOr is that it does not laugh at the weak, helpless, true or in nocent-only at the falsc pretentious, vain, hypocrtical.
 "Mark Twain laughed many of the | world s false claimants out of court and entangled many of the world s | false witnesses in a net of ridicule. He touched the absurdities of life with a not unkindly mockery and made us feel somehow the infinite powers of life s realities. No one can say that he ever | failed to reverence the purity and frank, joyful, genuine nature of little children, of whom Christ has said, "Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven '
 Hearse Recalls Last Trip
 The hearse among the green lanes of | spring was a sad thing to see, and as those waiting at Bedding station saw | the white horses and black van now and again between the penciled tracery of the willows, there arose the memory of how the same hearse had last wended the same winding road from the same l nOuSe-OH DuIlSlHldS hlSil' ONoh | Clemens had died on Christmas Eve, while her Christmas tree stood in the living room at Stormfeld fully garn- ished and untouched Her body was sent to Elmira on Christmas night. That was Mark Twain s last Christmas.
 No news of the death had reached the few scattered houses that are in Redding That Christmas night was furionsly stormy and the snowtiakes drove like shale.
 The first intmation the village had of Jean Clemens death was when a tardy passenger, opening the door of the Bedding station, found himself con fronted with four tall, silent men in black, struggling in the snow with coffin. It was on this night that the newspapers heard that Mark Twain was dying and sent him telegrams of inquiry.
 Humor in Deaths Shadow
 CT hear,' he wrote in reply, "that the newspapers say am dying. l would not do such thing at my time of life, l am behaving myself as well as l can Merry Christmas to everybody. V
 Storms beat upon the daughter; sun shone today upon the father. The hearse plodded through the lanes; af. ter it followed Albert Bigelow Paine, his closest friend and biographer, with Jarvis Langdon, his favorite nephew, in closed carriage at the rear; his only living daughter, Clara, and her hus- band, Ossip Gabrilowitsch; Claude, the faithful butler, and old Katie Leary, the housekeeper, on the front seat. There was no procession of mourning neighbors, no demonstration along the way. The shining rosewood coffin stood up on a baggage truck in the glaring sunlight. On the cover was silver plate, inscribed:
 "Samuel Langhorne Clemens-Marll ! Twain, l9l0.'
 Above the plate lay wreath of tality, picked from Tamarack Hills. 1 Dan Beard, an old friend and neigh bor, who is illustrated in many of his books, had stumbled over the rocks and roots in the dark to pluck the laurel the night before, and had sat up into the small hours to weave them.
 The family party occupied apart ments and old Katie, the housekeeper, sat in a corner and wept silently.
 ''I made him comfortable" she said, "iust before he sank to rest. The nurses could not please him, but he rested when I eased him, and, Thank you, Katie, you do everything just right, he said.
 Loved Daughter Voice