They thought I was joking.

Without a word to any of us, next day Halstead wrote a note to the World repudiating the interview, and the World printed his disclaimer with a line which said: "When Mr.Halstead conversed with our reporter he had dined." It was too good to keep.

A day or two later, John Hay wrote an amusing story for the Tribune, which set Halstead right.
Mark Twain's place in literature is not for me to fix.

Some one has called him "The Lincoln of letters." That is striking, suggestive and apposite.

The genius of Clemens and the genius of Lincoln possessed a kinship outside the circumstances of their early lives; the common lack of tools to work with; the privations and hardships to be endured and to overcome; the way ahead through an unblazed and trackless forest; every footstep over a stumbling block and each effort saddled with a handicap.
But they got there, both of them, they got there, and mayhap somewhere beyond the stars the light of their eyes is shining down upon us even as, amid the thunders of a world tempest, we are not wholly forgetful of them..