The speaker had the power of putting those vivid pictures
before one. We were all affected. That
was the moment for the hat. I would have put
two hundred dollars in. Before he had finished
I could have put in four hundred dollars. I
felt I could have filled up a blank check—with
somebody else’s name—and dropped it
in.
Well, now, another speaker got up, and in fifteen
minutes damped my spirit; and during the speech of
the third speaker all my enthusiasm went away.
When at last the hat came round I dropped in ten cents—and
took out twenty-five.
I came over here to get the honorary degree from Oxford,
and I would have encompassed the seven seas for an
honor like that—the greatest honor that
has ever fallen to my share. I am grateful to
Oxford for conferring that honor upon me, and I am
sure my country appreciates it, because first and
foremost it is an honor to my country.
And now I am going home again across the sea.
I am in spirit young but in the flesh old, so that
it is unlikely that when I go away I shall ever see
England again. But I shall go with the recollection
of the generous and kindly welcome I have had.
I suppose I must say “Good-bye.”
I say it not with my lips only, but from the heart.
A portrait of Mr. Clemens, signed
by all the members of the club attending
the dinner, was presented to him, July 6, 1907, and
in submitting the toast “The Health of Mark Twain”
Mr. J. Scott Stokes recalled the fact that
he had read parts of Doctor Clemens’s
works to Harold Frederic during Frederic’s last
illness.
Mr. Chairman and fellow-savages,—I am very
glad indeed to have that portrait. I think it
is the best one that I have ever had, and there have
been opportunities before to get a good photograph.
I have sat to photographers twenty-two times to-day.
Those sittings added to those that have preceded
them since I have been in Europe—if we average
at that rate—must have numbered one hundred
to two hundred sittings. Out of all those there
ought to be some good photographs. This is the
best I have had, and I am glad to have your honored
names on it. I did not know Harold Frederic
personally, but I have heard a great deal about him,
and nothing that was not pleasant and nothing except
such things as lead a man to honor another man and
to love him. I consider that it is a misfortune
of mine that I have never had the luck to meet him,
and if any book of mine read to him in his last hours
made those hours easier for him and more comfortable,
I am very glad and proud of that. I call to
mind such a case many years ago of an English authoress,
well known in her day, who wrote such beautiful child
tales, touching and lovely in every possible way.
In a little biographical sketch of her I found that
her last hours were spent partly in reading a book
of mine, until she was no longer able to read.
That has always remained in my mind, and I have always
cherished it as one of the good things of my life.
I had read what she had written, and had loved her
for what she had done.
