I felt easier. "Oh, if that is all, sir, I did do that."
"Yes, you did. I will read your answer, for your own humiliation:
"Washington, Nov. 24.
"'Messrs. Smith, Jones, and others.
"'Gentlemen: What the mischief do you suppose you want with a post-office at Baldwin's Ranch? It would not do you any good. If any letters came there, you couldn't read them, you know; and, besides, such letters as ought to pass through, with money in them, for other localities, would not be likely to get through, you must perceive at once; and that would make trouble for us all. No, don't bother about a post-office in your camp. I have your best interests at heart, and feel that it would only be an ornamental folly. What you want is a nice jail, you know—a nice, substantial jail and a free school. These will be a lasting benefit to you. These will make you really contented and happy. I will move in the matter at once.
"'Very truly, etc.,
"'Mark Twain,
"'For James W. N**, U. S. Senator.'
"That is the way you answered that letter. Those people say they will hang me, if I ever enter that district again; and I am perfectly satisfied they will, too."
"Well, sir, I did not know I was doing any harm. I only wanted to convince them."
"Ah. Well you did convince them, I make no manner of doubt. Now, here is another specimen. I gave you a petition from certain gentleman of Nevada, praying that I would get a bill through Congress incorporating the Methodist Episcopal Church of the State of Nevada. I told you to say, in reply, that the creation of such a law came more properly within the province of the State Legislature; and to endeavour to show them that, in the present feebleness of the religious element in that new
