. St. Nicholas [serial]. f, was aconstant exasperation to hisroom-mate, who, goaded bysome new torture, wouldsometimes denounce him infeverish terms. Yet theywere never anything but theclosest friends. Mark Twain did not findhappiness in his new posi-tion on the Call. There was less freedomand more drudgery than he had known on theEnterprise. His day was spent around thepolice court, attending fires, weddings, and fu-nerals, with brief glimpses of the theatres atnight. Once he wrote: It was fearful drudgery— soulless drudgery—and almost destitute of in-terest. It was an awful slavery for a laz
. St. Nicholas [serial]. f, was aconstant exasperation to hisroom-mate, who, goaded bysome new torture, wouldsometimes denounce him infeverish terms. Yet theywere never anything but theclosest friends. Mark Twain did not findhappiness in his new posi-tion on the Call. There was less freedomand more drudgery than he had known on theEnterprise. His day was spent around thepolice court, attending fires, weddings, and fu-nerals, with brief glimpses of the theatres atnight. Once he wrote: It was fearful drudgery— soulless drudgery—and almost destitute of in-terest. It was an awful slavery for a lazy man. It must have been so. There was little chancefor original work. He had become just a part ofa news machine. Fle saw many public abusesthat he wished to expose, but the policy of the paper opposed him. Once, however, he found apoliceman asleep on his beat. Going to a near-byvegetable stall he borrowed a large cabbage leaf,came back, and stood over the sleeper, gentlyfanning him. He knew the paper would not pub-. CLEMENS COULD GATHER CITY ITEMS ALL DAY. lish the i)olicemans negligence, but he could ad-vertise it in his own way. A large crowd sooncollected, much amused. When he thought theaudience large enough, he went away. Next daythe joke was all over the city. He grew indifferent to the Call work, andwhen an assistant was allowed him to do part ofthe running for items, it was clear to everybodythat the assistant would soon be able to do it all. But there was a pleasant and profitable side tothe San Francisco life. There were real literarypeople there—among them a young man, with 502 THE BOYS LIFE OF MARK TWAIN [Apr., rooms upstairs in the Call office, Francis BretHarte, editor of The Californian, a new literaryweekly which Charles Henry Webb had recentlyfounded. Bret Harte was not yet famous, buthis gifts were recognized on the Pacific Slope,especially by the Era group of writers —theGolden Era being a literary monthly of verygood standing indeed. Joaquin Miller
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