his "last words." He wanted to know how the following words, as a dying exclamation, struck me:—
"I die for my God, for my country, for freedom of speech, for progress, and the universal brotherhood of man!"
I objected that this would require too lingering a death; it was a good speech for a consumptive, but not suited to the exigencies of the field of honor. We wrangled over a good many ante-mortem outbursts, but I finally got him to cut his obituary down to this, which he copied into his memorandum book, purposing to get it by heart:—
"I DIE THAT FRANCE MAY LIVE."
I said that this remark seemed to lack relevancy: but he said relevancy was a matter of no consequence in last words, what you wanted was thrill.
The next thing in order was the choice of weapons. My principal said he was not feeling well, and would leave that and the other details of the proposed meeting to me. Therefore I wrote the following note and carried it to M. Fourtou's friend:—
"Sir: M. Gambetta accepts M. Fourtou's challenge, and authorizes me to propose Plessis-Piquet as the place of meeting; to-morrow morning at daybreak as the time; and axes as the weapons. I am, sir, with great respect,
Mark Twain."
M. Fourtou's friend read this note, and shuddered. Then he turned to me, and said, with a suggestion of severity in his tone:—
THE CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. |
"Have you considered, sir, what would be the inevitable result of such a meeting as this?"
"Well, for instance, what would it be?"
"Bloodshed!"
"That's about the size of it," I said. "Now, if it is a fair question, what was your side proposing to shed?"