9 Chapter 8 Waiting for the Comet

Chapter 8 Waiting for the Comet "I was young and foolish then; now I am old and foolisher." —Mark Twain "It was a long time before anyone laughed in our household, after the shock of Susy's death," Clara remembered. The family stayed abroad four more years.

When the family returned to America in 1900, Mark received a hero's welcome. He had paid off all his debts with his tour money. The family was back on its feet. Americans had long admired Mark Twain for being a poor, small-town boy who'd become rich and famous. Now they honored and respected him for fighting his way back from financial ruin and upholding his good name. "Always do right," Mark said. "This will gratify some people and astonish the rest."

Rather than return to the Hartford home where Susy had died, the family rented a house in New York City. Guests and reporters called constantly. Mark spoke at luncheons and banquets. He was one of the most famous and recognized people of his day. Mark had something to say about any topic reporters put before him. Mark Twain, who had always wanted to be more than just a humorist, had become the nation's wise man. The older Mark Twain grew, the more critical he became. He spoke out against racism, injustice,

and the government more than ever. Mark's busy social schedule took a toll on Livy's health. Her heart became so weak that her doctors allowed Mark to spend only a few minutes a day with her. They feared his temperamental nature would upset her. Mark and Livy wrote notes back and forth, but Mark missed his dearest friend terribly. In June 1904, Livy died. At her bedside, Mark, Clara, and Jean put their arms around one another and wept as if their hearts would break. Mark had never felt so alone. "She was all our riches, and

she is gone," Mark wrote. "She was our breath, she was our life, and now we are nothing." Clara had a nervous breakdown and spent months in the hospital. Jean, who had developed epilepsy, began having terrible seizures and would have to be hospitalized as well. Mark saw his once-happy family torn to pieces. After Livy's funeral, Mark gradually returned to writing short essays. It took him away from his grief. Little by little, he began seeing friends. He was lonely, but he took some comfort in his fame. With his unruly white hair, his bushy mustache and eyebrows, and the white suits he began

wearing, Mark Twain was an eye-catching figure. He paraded down Broadway as church let out on Sundays to call attention to himself and bask in strangers' admiration.