“I wrote it especially for Beck Jolly’s use,” the author declares, in a letter to his mother, “so he could pester Zeb with it.”

We cannot know to-day whether Zeb was pestered or not.  A faded clipping is all that remains of the incident.  As literature the article, properly enough, is lost to the world at large.  It is only worth remembering as his metropolitan beginning.  Yet he must have thought rather highly of it (his estimation of his own work was always unsafe), for in the letter above quoted he adds: 

I cannot write regularly for the Mercury, of course, I sha’n’t have time.  But sometimes I throw off a pearl (there is no self-conceit about that, I beg you to observe) which ought for the eternal welfare of my race to have a more extensive circulation than is afforded by a local daily paper.

And if Fitzhugh Ludlow (author of the ‘Hasheesh Eater’) comes your way, treat him well.  He published a high encomium upon Mark Twain (the same being eminently just and truthful, I beseech you to believe) in a San Francisco paper.  Artemus Ward said that when my gorgeous talents were publicly acknowledged by such high authority I ought to appreciate them myself, leave sage-brush obscurity, and journey to New York with him, as he wanted me to do.  But I preferred not to burst upon the New York public too suddenly and brilliantly, so I concluded to remain here.

He was in Carson City when this was written, preparing for the opening of the next legislature.  He was beyond question now the most conspicuous figure of the capital; also the most wholesomely respected, for his influence had become very large.  It was said that he could control more votes than any legislative member, and with his friends, Simmons and Clagget, could pass or defeat any bill offered.  The Enterprise was a powerful organ—­to be courted and dreaded—­and Mark Twain had become its chief tribune.  That he was fearless, merciless, and incorruptible, without doubt had a salutary influence on that legislative session.  He reveled in his power; but it is not recorded that he ever abused it.  He got a bill passed, largely increasing Orion’s official fees, but this was a crying need and was so recognized.  He made no secret promises, none at all that he did not intend to fulfill.  “Sam’s word was as fixed as fate,” Orion records, and it may be added that he was morally as fearless.

The two Houses of the last territorial legislature of Nevada assembled January 12, 1864.—­[Nevada became a State October 31, 1864.]—­A few days later a “Third House” was organized—­an institution quite in keeping with the happy atmosphere of that day and locality, for it was a burlesque organization, and Mark Twain was selected as its “Governor.”

The new House prepared to make a public occasion of this first session, and its Governor was required to furnish a message.  Then it was decided to make it a church benefit.  The letters exchanged concerning this proposition still exist; they explain themselves: