I thought of the coaching trip, and
decided to write a few lines just to see how I should get on. The
narrative flowed freely, and before the day was over I had written
between three and four thousand words. I took up the pleasing task
every stormy day when it was unnecessary for me to visit the office,
and in exactly twenty sittings I had finished a book. I handed the
notes to Scribner's people and asked them to print a few hundred
copies for private circulation. The volume pleased my friends, as
"Round the World" had done. Mr. Champlin one day told me that Mr.
Scribner had read the book and would like very much to publish it for
general circulation upon his own account, subject to a royalty.
The vain author is easily persuaded that what he has done is
meritorious, and I consented. [Every year this still nets me a small
sum in royalties. And thirty years have gone by, 1912.] The letters I
received upon the publication[37] of it were so numerous and some so
gushing that my people saved them and they are now bound together in
scrapbook form, to which additions are made from time to time. The
number of invalids who have been pleased to write me, stating that the
book had brightened their lives, has been gratifying. Its reception in
Britain was cordial; the "Spectator" gave it a favorable review.
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