I am surprised to find from the bibliographical authorities that it was
so late as 1875 when he came with the manuscript of Tom Sawyer, and asked
me to read it, as a friend and critic, and not as an editor. I have an
impression that this was at Mrs. Clemens's instance in his own
uncertainty about printing it. She trusted me, I can say with a
satisfaction few things now give me, to be her husband's true and cordial
adviser, and I was so. I believe I never failed him in this part, though
in so many of our enterprises and projects I was false as water through
my temperamental love of backing out of any undertaking. I believe this
never ceased to astonish him, and it has always astonished me; it appears
to me quite out of character; though it is certain that an undertaking,
when I have entered upon it, holds me rather than I it. But however this
immaterial matter may be, I am glad to remember that I thoroughly liked
Tom Sawyer, and said so with every possible amplification. Very likely,
I also made my suggestions for its improvement; I could not have been a
real critic without that; and I have no doubt they were gratefully
accepted and, I hope, never acted upon. I went with him to the horse-car
station in Harvard Square, as my frequent wont was, and put him aboard a
car with his MS. in his hand, stayed and reassured, so far as I counted,
concerning it. I do not know what his misgivings were; perhaps they were
his wife's misgivings, for she wished him to be known not only for the
wild and boundless humor that was in him, but for the beauty and
tenderness and "natural piety"; and she would not have had him judged by
a too close fidelity to the rude conditions of Tom Sawyer's life. This
is the meaning that I read into the fact of his coming to me with those
doubts.