MARK TWAIN

vitations. Nobody much but ladies at the ball, by conse-
quence; nobody to dance with. The Bunsons became
ostracized. The daughters could not find husbands. That
might be eight or ten years ago. Only one of them is just
married.

Dec. 22 '96. It took piles of blankets to keep us warm
last night. It was as cold as it would be at home at 30.—.
Yet it was really only 52. I brought the thermometer
from the dressing-room where there was a fire. It was
marking 59.

If you order a box of cigars here (as I did yesterday at
this time, three blocks away) they may be two days get-
ing it to you. I am expecting this result.

Llild Lliiiv, unite/ uiu*-iv.o a.wa,y j

ting it to you. I am expecting

We are nothing but echoes. We have no thoughts of our
own, no opinions of our own, we are but a compost heap
made up of the decayed heredities, moral and physical.

London 11:30 Xmas morning. The square and adjacent
streets are not merely quiet, they are dead. There is not a
sound. At intervals a Sunday-looking person passes along.
Once I saw a couple of postmen go along—once or twice
I heard the rumble of wheels come out of the sepulchral
distance—Queens Road, I should say.

Because of the smoothness and excellence of the paving,
London is the least noisy city; but the silence of today!
Oh, it is the silence of the tomb.

The family have been to breakfast. We three sat and
talked as usual, but the name of the day was not men-
tioned. It was in our minds, but we said nothing.

They were remembering Susy, who as already told
had died in August. A page or two farther along he
would write of that tragedy.
312