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and so they kept it up。
Then the rain would come again and interfere with their work。 One
afternoon； when Clemens and Gillis were following certain tiny…sprayed
specks of gold that were leading them to pocketsomewhere up the long
slope； the chill downpour set in。 Gillis； as usual； was washing； and
Clemens carrying water。 The 〃color〃 was getting better with every pan；
and Jim Gillis believed that now； after their long waiting； they were to
be rewarded。 Possessed with the miner's passion； he would have gone on
washing and climbing toward the precious pocket； regardless of
everything。 Clemens； however； shivering and disgusted； swore that each
pail of water was his last。 His teeth were chattering and he was wet
through。 Finally he said； in his deliberate way：
〃Jim； I won't carry any more water。 This work is too disagreeable。〃
Gillis had just taken out a panful of dirt。
〃Bring one more pail； Sam；〃 he pleaded。
〃Oh； hell； Jim； I won't do it； I'm freezing！〃
〃Just one more pail； Sam；〃 he pleaded。
〃No； sir； not a drop； not if I knew there were a million dollars in that
pan。〃
Gillis tore a page out of his note…book； and hastily posted a thirty…day
claim notice by the pan of dirt； and they set out for Angel's Camp。 It
kept on raining and storming； and they did not go back。 A few days later
a letter from Steve Gillis made Clemens decide to return to San
Francisco。 With Jim Gillis and Dick Stoker he left Angel's and walked
across the mountains to Jackass Hill in the snow…storm〃the first I ever
saw in California；〃 he says in his notes。
In the mean time the rain had washed away the top of the pan of earth
they had left standing on the hillside； and exposed a handful of nuggets…
pure gold。 Two strangers； Austrians； had come along and； observing it；
had sat down to wait until the thirty…day claim notice posted by Jim
Gillis should expire。 They did not mind the rainnot with all that gold
in sightand the minute the thirty days were up they followed the lead a
few pans farther and took outsome say ten； some say twenty； thousand
dollars。 In either case it was a good pocket。 Mark Twain missed it by
one pail of water。 Still； it is just as well； perhaps； when one
remembers that vaster nugget of Angel's Campthe Jumping Frog。 Jim
Gillis always declared； 〃If Sam had got that pocket he would have
remained a pocket…miner to the end of his days； like me。〃
In Mark Twain's old note…book occurs a memorandum of the frog storya
mere casual entry of its main features：
Coleman with his jumping frogbet stranger 50stranger had no
frog； and C。 got him one：in the mean time stranger filled C。's
frog full of shot and he couldn't jump。 The stranger's frog won。
It seemed unimportant enough； no doubt； at the time； but it was the
nucleus around which was built a surpassing fame。 The hills along the
Stanislaus have turned out some wonderful nuggets in their time； but no
other of such size as that。
L
BACK TO THE TUMULT
FROM the note…book：
February 25。 Arrived in Stockton 5 P。m。 Home again home again at
the Occidental Hotel； San Franciscofind letters from Artemus Ward
asking me to write a sketch for his new book of Nevada Territory
Travels which is soon to come out。 Too lateought to have got the
letters three months ago。 They are dated early in November。
He was sorry not to oblige Ward； sorry also not to have representation in
his book。 He wrote explaining the circumstance； and telling the story of
his absence。 Steve Gillis； meantime； had returned to San Francisco； and
settled his difficulties there。 The friends again took up residence
together。
Mark Twain resumed his daily letters to the Enterprise； without further
annoyance from official sources。 Perhaps there was a temporary truce in
that direction； though he continued to attack various abusescivic；
private； and artisticbecoming a sort of general censor； establishing
for himself the title of the 〃Moralist of the Main。〃 The letters were
reprinted in San Francisco and widely read。 Now and then some one had
the temerity to answer them； but most of his victims maintained a
discreet silence。 In one of these letters he told of the Mexican oyster；
a rather tough； unsatisfactory article of diet； which could not stand
criticism； and presently disappeared from the market。 It was a mistake；
however； for him to attack an Alta journalist by the name of Evans。
Evans was a poet； and once composed an elegy with a refrain which ended：
Gone； gone； gone
Gone to his endeavor；
Gone； gone； gone；
Forever and forever。
In the Enterprise letter following its publication Mark Twain referred to
this poem。 He parodied the refrain and added； 〃If there is any criticism
to make on it I should say there is a little too much 'gone' and not
enough 'forever。'〃
It was a more or less pointless witticism； but it had a humorous quotable
flavor； and it made Evans mad。 In a squib in the Alta he retaliated：
Mark Twain has killed the Mexican oyster。 We only regret that the
act was not inspired by a worthier motive。 Mark Twain's sole reason
for attacking the Mexican oyster was because the restaurant that
sold them refused him credit。
A deadly thrust like that could not be parried in print。 To deny or
recriminate would be to appear ridiculous。 One could only sweat and
breathe vengeance。
〃Joe；〃 he said to Goodman； who had come over for a visit； 〃my one object
in life now is to make enough money to stand trial and then go and murder
Evans。〃
He wrote verses himself sometimes； and lightened his Enterprise letters
with jingles。 One of these concerned Tom Maguire； the autocrat manager
of San Francisco theaters。 It details Maguire's assault on one of his
actors。
Tom Maguire；
Roused to ire；
Lighted on McDougal；
Tore his coat；
Clutched his throat；
And split him in the bugle。
For shame！ oh； fie！
Maguire； why
Will you thus skyugle？
Why curse and swear；
And rip and tear
The innocent McDougal？
Of bones bereft；
Almost； you've left
Vestvali； gentle Jew gal；
And now you've smashed
And almost hashed
The form of poor McDougall
Goodman remembers that Clemens and Gillis were together again on
California Street at this time； and of hearing them sing； 〃The Doleful
Ballad of the Rejected Lover；〃 another of Mark Twain's compositions。 It
was a wild； blasphemous outburst； and the furious fervor with which Mark
and Steve delivered it； standing side by side and waving their fists； did
not render it less objectionable。 Such memories as these are set down
here； for they exhibit a phase of that robust personality； built of the
same primeval material from which the world was createdbuilt of every
variety of material； in fact； ever incorporated in a human beingequally
capable of writing unprintable coarseness and that rarest and most tender
of all characterizations； the 'Recollections of JOAN of ARC'。