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Twain, Mark, 1835-1910

"Sketches New and Old, Part 7."

How changed we were from what we had
been a few short hours before! Hopeless, sad-eyed misery, hunger,
feverish anxiety, desperation, then; thankfulness, serenity, joy too deep
for utterance now. That I know was the cheeriest hour of my eventful
life. The winds howled, and blew the snow wildly about our prison house,
but they were powerless to distress us any more. I liked Harris. He
might have been better done, perhaps, but I am free to say that no man
ever agreed with me better than Harris, or afforded me so large a degree
of satisfaction. Messick was very well, though rather high-flavored,
but for genuine nutritiousness and delicacy of fiber, give me Harris.
Messick had his good points--I will not attempt to deny it, nor do I wish
to do it but he was no more fitted for breakfast than a mummy would be,
sir--not a bit. Lean?--why, bless me!--and tough? Ah, he was very
tough! You could not imagine it--you could never imagine anything like
it."
"Do you mean to tell me that--"
"Do not interrupt me, please. After breakfast we elected a man by the
name of Walker, from Detroit, for supper. He was very good. I wrote his
wife so afterward. He was worthy of all praise. I shall always remember
Walker. He was a little rare, but very good. And then the next morning
we had Morgan of Alabama for breakfast.


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