MARK TWAIN

When a cackling hen is far away and is saying
K-k-k-k-k-k KWACKO! you hear nothing but the first
syllable of her last word—just a single strenuous note,
pitched on a high key, all the rest is lost in the interven-
ing distance. At a distance this fiend-owl's note sounds
like that. Close by it is soft and dovelike and it is not so
very unlike a flute note. It is quadruple time—one utter-
ance to the bar, followed by three quarter-note rests, thus
h-o-o-o h-o-o-o h-o-o-o-o

___________ h-o-o-o-o ________

The monotony of it is maddening. You beat time to it,
and count the hoots and the rests—you cannot help it.
You count till your reason reels. Low and soft as the note
is, it is marvelously penetrating; it bores into the skull like
an auger. It can distress you when it is 150 yards away;
at a third of that distance it is unendurable. When you
have counted fifty hoots and 150 rests you have reached
the limit of human endurance. You must turn and drive
the creature away or your mind will go to ruin.

To Hall July 26. Will come over mid-October with
idea for new magazine, if L.A.L. [Library of Amer. Lit.]
is then out of the way.

Then presently we find him again on the way
to America. That demon, the machine, had
called. He was never able to resist that summons.

August 29, 1893. Sailed from Breman, with Clara, in
the Spree, Capt. Meissel. Lunched with Mr. Platte, Presi-
dent of the North German Lloyd.

Spree table admirable—Kaiser Wilhelm II table de-
testable.

Took room at Players, Sept. 29th (1.50).

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