“Mark Twain’s neighbors and why I’m writing this blog”
by Barry Rubin (at Rubin Reports.)
In 1870, Mark Twain, the great American writer and journalist, had just moved to Buffalo, New York, where he was part-owner and an editor of the newspaper. One Sunday morning Twain saw smoke pouring from the upper window of the house across the street, whose residents he had not yet met. The couple was sitting on their porch, unaware of the danger.
Twain calmly strolled across the street, bowed politely, and introduced himself:
“We ought to have called on you before, and I beg your pardon for intruding now in this informal way, but your house is on fire.”