his âlurking suspicionâ that he has been set up. In urging him to search for the edifying company of Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, Ward has deliberately thrown Twain in the way of Simon Wheeler and a reminiscence of the notorious Jim Smiley. What follows, of course, is a rambling and hilarious narrative about a âfifteen minute nag,â a bull pup named âAndrew Jackson,â and the precocious jumping frog âDanâl Webster.â If Twain had been less impatient with Wheeler, we might have heard the tale of a âyaller one-eyed cowâ as well, but he storms off in a huff and his readers necessarily must follow. In âAn Encounter with an Interviewerâ (1874), a âpeartâ young reporter from the Daily Thunder-storm seeks an interview with the estimable Mr. Twain. The persona here is simpleminded and afflicted with an âirregularâ memory, and Twain leads the interviewer on a wild goose chase for even the most basic information. The young manâhaving learned that Twain is 180 years old, attended Aaron Burrâs funeral, and many other curious thingsâleaves exasperated and befuddled. Twain regrets the departure: âHe was pleasant company, and I was sorry to see him go.â
In âThe Story of the Old Ramâ (1872) Twain the tenderfoot is tricked by âthe boysâ into mouth-watering anticipation to hear Jim Blaineâs inebriated tale. The storyteller meanders about, getting further and further from the announced subject, and it is not until the raconteur falls asleep mid-sentence that Twain perceives that he has been âsold.â There are many other instances of unlikely pairings of characterâthose emissaries from the âgrand divisions of societyâ in Virginia City, Nevada, Scotty Briggs and the Parson; or Twain the self-satisfied and ignorant substitute editor for an agricultural journal (who advises among other things that âclams will lie quiet if music be played to themâ) and the outraged editor who rebukes him; or Hank Morgan, the practical, hardheaded, nineteenth-century Yankee, and Sandy, the good-hearted, innocent, sixth-century jabberer.
Some of Twainâs encounters were not humorous, however, nor were they intended to be. In âA True Story, Repeated Word for Word as I Heard Itâ (1874) the former slave and now a servant, Aunt Rachel, literally and figuratively towers above the author, clearly his moral superior. For once, Clemens did not hide behind the camouflage of an adopted persona but is known simply as âMisto Cââ and as such bears the full weight of an unwanted recognition: namely, that his judgment of Aunt Rachelâs character borders on criminal stupidity and callousness. Similarly, in one of the most affecting episodes in Huckleberry Finn, after playing yet another joke on Jim, Huck receives such a tongue lashing from the fugitive slave that he mulls over his deserved upbraiding and finally âhumblesâ himself to a black man. âThe Private History of a Campaign That Failedâ (1885) was published in the company of other Civil War memoirs in the Century magazine. Clemens had spent a very brief time in the pro-Confederate Marion Rangers before removing to the Nevada Territory, and he freely admits that perhaps he âought not be allowed much space among better people.â For the most part his description of the campaign is pure burlesque at the authorâs expense, but a sudden revulsion of moral feelings brought about by the shooting of an innocent man decides him on quitting the business of war âwhile I could save some remnant of my self-respect.â It is almost a certainty that this killing was pure fabrication, introduced to provide the author with a moral dilemma he might respond to with the sort of sensitivity he had attributed to Huckleberry Finn, whose narrative he had completed only a few months before writing this memoir. Clemens