You know you're a Twainiac if you enjoyed _Joan of Arc_ the first
time thru. If you've read so much of and about Twain they send you
books on him to review for free.  If you can't watch a movie
adaptation of a Twain work without a groan a minute, or groan even
louder every time a new humorist is described as "in the tradition
of Mark Twain."  If one of your proudest posessions is a book
autographed by Clara Clemens G---------------------------  S-------
-----------------------.   If your Twain collection goes beyond
books to include MT Tobacco, MT beercups, MT for President buttons
(which they wouldn't let you wear at the voting place for fear you
might influence someone), and even tapes of music played by MT's
son-in-law.  Worse, you plan to keep the box the Oxford set came in
as a collector's item.   Or if you read much, watch tv little, and
have no idea who Jeff Foxworthy is.

You're a Twainiac if your piggybank is in the shape of MT's Elmira
study, your coffee mugs have his birth and deathdates on them, if
you've actually read all the footnotes and apparatus in all the
UCal editions you own, and if you've made pilgramages to Hannibal,
Hartford, and Elmira feeling freshly enlightened each trip.  You're
a Twainiac if you, ah, teach more Twain in your American lit
classes then you do any other single author, and probably quote him
too much in your Brit lit. classes.  Best of all, you're a Twainiac
if you answer every query about whence and wither a Twain quote
came from saying "Beats me, don't know.  I'm no expert."  This
means you've either learned to economize the truth as The Master
Taught, or know that false modesty is as much humility as a true
Twainiac can muster.

wes britton