Aldrich, meantime, had invited the Clemenses to Ponkapog during the
Bermuda absence, and Clemens hastened to send him a line expressing
regrets.  At the close he said: 

To T. B. Aldrich, in Ponkapog, Mass.: 

Farmington Avenue, Hartford, June 3, 1877.  Day after tomorrow we leave for the hills beyond Elmira, N. Y. for the summer, when I shall hope to write a book of some sort or other to beat the people with.  A work similar to your new one in the Atlantic is what I mean, though I have not heard what the nature of that one is.  Immoral, I suppose.  Well, you are right.  Such books sell best, Howells says.  Howells says he is going to make his next book indelicate.  He says he thinks there is money in it.  He says there is a large class of the young, in schools and seminaries who—­But you let him tell you.  He has ciphered it all down to a demonstration.

With the warmest remembrances to the pair of you
                                   Ever Yours
                                        Samuel L. Clemens.

Clemens would naturally write something about Bermuda, and began at once, “Random Notes of an Idle Excursion,” and presently completed four papers, which Howells eagerly accepted for the Atlantic.  Then we find him plunging into another play, this time alone.

To W. D. Howells, in Boston: 

Elmira, June 27, 1877.  My dear Howells,—­If you should not like the first 2 chapters, send them to me and begin with Chapter 3—­or Part 3, I believe you call these things in the magazine.  I have finished No. 4., which closes the series, and will mail it tomorrow if I think of it.  I like this one, I liked the preceding one (already mailed to you some time ago) but I had my doubts about 1 and 2.  Do not hesitate to squelch them, even with derision and insult.

Today I am deep in a comedy which I began this morning—­principal character, that old detective—­I skeletoned the first act and wrote the second, today; and am dog-tired, now.  Fifty-four close pages of Ms in 7 hours.  Once I wrote 55 pages at a sitting—­that was on the opening chapters of the “Gilded Age” novel.  When I cool down, an hour from now, I shall go to zero, I judge. 
                              Yrs ever,
          
                              mark.

Clemens had doubts as to the quality of the Bermuda papers, and with some reason.  They did not represent him at his best.  Nevertheless, they were pleasantly entertaining, and Howells expressed full approval of them for Atlantic use.  The author remained troubled.

To W. D. Howells, in Boston: