MARK TWAIN

lowing the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. Found I had
met Hammond many years ago when he was a Yale
Senior—visitor at Gen. Franklin's. An English prisoner
heard me lecture in London 23 years ago. Guard barred
me off from crossing a line—called the "death-line." Made
a talk—or a speech—sitting. Explained to the prisoners
why they were better off in jail than they would be any-
where else; that they would eventually have gotten into
jail anyhow, for one thing or another, no doubt; that if
they got out they would get in again; that it would be
better all around if they remained quietly where they
were and made the best of it; that after a few months
they would prefer the jail and its luxurious indolence to
the sordid struggle for bread outside; and that I would
do everything I could, short of bribery, to get the govern-
ment to double their jail terms.

These prisoners were the Jameson raiders,
who in an endeavor to carry out one of Cecil
Rhodes plans had been captured by Boers.1
President Kruger ("Oom Paul"), who had but a
meager sense of humor, heard of Mark Twain's
comments—in the jail, and to a reporter—and
ordered that the prisoners be more rigidly con-
fined. Clemens when he heard of this paid a visit
to President Kruger (see entry May 26) and
"explained his joke," with the result that the
treatment of the prisoners improved and they
were presently discharged. (See entries May 30
and June 4.)

What sort of insanity is it—that moves banqueteers to
appoint as chairman the one man among them who is
destitute of qualifications for the place? It is no exaggera-
tion to say that in nine cases out of ten this is the case.

1For a dear elucidation of the Transvaal (South African Re-
public) difficuldes and the Jameson raid, see Following the Equator.

294