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