``I had hardly completed my course at the Real Gymnasium when I was
prostrated with a dangerous illness or rather, a score of them, and my
condition became so desperate that I was given up by physicians. During this
period I was permitted to read constantly, obtaining books from the Public
Library which had been neglected and entrusted to me for classification of
the works and preparation of the catalogues. One day I was handed a few
volumes of new literature unlike anything I had ever read before and so
captivating as to make me utterly forget my hopeless state. They were the
earlier works of Mark Twain and to them might have been due the miraculous
recovery which followed. Twenty-five years later, when I met Mr. Clemens and
we formed a friendship between us, I told him of the experience and was
amazed to see that great man of laughter burst into tears.''


"Flying Tadpole" wrote in message
...

Bob Crantz wrote:

We watched the weather all through that awful night, and kept an eye on
the
barometer, to be prepared for the least change. There was not the
slightest
change recorded by the instrument, during the whole time. Words cannot
describe the comfort that that friendly, hopeful, steadfast thing was to
me
in that season of trouble. It was a defective barometer, and had no hand
but
the stationary brass pointer, but I did not know that until afterward.
If I
should be in such a situation again, I should not wish for any barometer
but
that one.

--
Well, you got some bites but were they worth it? A tramp, a
broad, an other.

Flying Tadpole

-------------------------
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