Perhaps the most distinguished social honor paid to Mark Twain at this
time was the dinner given him by the staff of London "Punch," in the
historic "Punch" editorial rooms on Bouverie Street. No other foreigner
had ever been invited to that sacred board, where Thackeray had sat, and
Douglas Jerrold and others of the great departed. "Punch" had already
saluted him with a front-page cartoon, and at this dinner the original
drawing was presented to him by the editor's little daughter, Joy Agnew.
The Oxford degree, and the splendid homage paid him by England at large,
became, as it were, the crowning episode of Mark Twain's career. I think
he realized this, although he did not speak of it--indeed, he had very
little to say of the whole matter. I telephoned a greeting when I knew
that he had arrived in New York, and was summoned to "come down and play
billiards." I confess I went with a good deal of awe, prepared to sit in
silence and listen to the tale of the returning hero. But when I arrived
he was already in the billiard-room, knocking the balls about--his coat
off, for it was a hot night. As I entered, he said:
"Get your cue--I've been inventing a new game."
That was all.
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