The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1910-04-29

ed his sparse ranks. Putnam Park
now enchoses the memory of his
camp.
Mark Twain first heard of 1t at
the dinner given him on his seven
ueth birthday. when a fellow-guest
who lived there mentioned its beau
ties aud added that there was a va
cant house adjoining his own. 81
think you may buy that old house
for me-" said Mark Twain.
Sherwood Place was the delectable
name of that old house, and where
1t stood Mark Twain reared the white
walls Of the Italian villa he first
named Innocence at Home" but a
first experience of what a New Eng
land winter storm can be in its
whitest fury quickly caused him to
christen 1t anew "Stormfield."
The house has been thus described
by Albert Bigelow Paine: "Set on
a fair hill with such a green slope
below, such view outspread across
the valley as made one catch his
breath a little when he first turned
to look at it. A trout stream flows
through one of the meadows. There
are apple trees and grey stone walls
The entrance to it is a winding, leafy
lane"
His White Hair.
Through these lines the Innocent
at Home" loved to wander in his
white flannels for homely gossip with
the neighbors. They remember him
best as one who above all things
loved a good listener, for Mark was
mighty talker, stored with fairy
tales for the little maids he adored
and racier, ruder speech for more
stalwart, masculine ears. It is a le-
gend that he was vastly proud of
his famous mop of white hair and
used to spend the pains of a court
lady In getting It to just the proper
stage of artistic array.
Last summer the walks began to
falter; last fall they ceased for good.
The death of H. H. Rogers. a close
friend, was a severe blow. The
death of his daughter Jean, who was
seized with an attack of epilepsy last
fall while in her bath. was an added
blow from which he never recovered.
1t was then that the pains in the
heart began. Mark Twain died truly
as can be said of any man of a
broken heart.
His Last Work.
The last bit of literary work he
did was chapter of his unfinished
autobiography describing his daugh-
ter Jeans death. He sought diver
sion in Bermuda, where he was the
guest of the American vice-consul
William Allen, whose young daugh-
ter, Helen, acted as amanuensis for
what few letters he cared to dictate.
His winter was gay but not happy.
When he heard of the successive
deaths of his two friends. William
Laffan. of the Sun, and R. w. Glider.
editor of the Century. he said sadly:
How fortunate they are; no good
fortune of that kind ever comes 20
me-"
Life had no further allures for
him. Mr.. Paine said that the book
Mark Twain took up from the cover
let beside him when he asked for
his glasses was "Carlyle's History of
the French Revolution" his insep-
arabic companion and greatest ia
vorite. The burial was in the family
plot ct Emira. N. ". where lie al
ready his wife, his two daughters,
Susan and Jean, and his infant son,
Langhorne
Mr.. Paine said that Mark Twain
had put his affairs III perfect order
and that he died well off, though by
no means rich man. He leaves a
considerable number of unfinished
manuscripts in all stages of compile
ton and of all characters. many of
them begun years ago and put aside
as unsatisfactory.
Mrs. Cabrilowitsch will aid Mr..
Paine in the final decision as to
what use shall be made of these.