Subject: | |
From: | |
Reply To: | |
Date: | Tue, 26 Jan 2010 14:42:08 -0500 |
Content-Type: | text/plain |
Parts/Attachments: |
|
|
Richard,
I'm not familiar with San Francisco's Twain Alley, but when I read your
note, the first thing that came to my mind was this passage about San
Francisco from the beginning of chapter 59 of _Roughing It_:
"For two months my sole occupation was avoiding acquaintances; for during
that time I did not earn a penny, or buy an article of any kind, or pay my
board. I became a very adept at "slinking." I slunk from back street to back
street, I slunk away from approaching faces that looked familiar, I slunk to
my meals, ate them humbly and with a mute apology for every mouthful I
robbed my generous landlady of, and at midnight, after wanderings that were
but slinkings away from cheerfulness and light, I slunk to my bed. I felt
meaner, and lowlier and more despicable than the worms. ..."
Perhaps there is a wall along Mark Twain Alley on which someone could paint
a life-size picture (a silhouette would do) of Mark Twain slinking.
Kent
|
|
|