I come to praise steamboating and bury it, while I'm at it.

I am reading Twain's Life on the Mississippi for the first time, for the fun of it and for a first-person narrative of life on the Mississippi in the 19th century. It would be interesting to read it for a book-club assignment and discuss it. But it's also satisfying to read it for sheer pleasure and admiration of Twain's skill.

Did the words come easily, the way they read, or did he agonize over the text? I prefer to think the words flowed, perhaps coming to mind as quickly as he could put them on paper. I loved this passage, when Twain has gone back to the river 21 years after his career as a riverboat pilot had ended. From Chapter 22, "I return to my muttons":

The towboat and the railroad had done their work, and done it well and completely. The mighty bridge, stretching along over our heads, had done its share in the slaughter and spoliation. Remains of former steamboatmen told me, with wan satisfaction, that the bridge doesn't pay. Still, it can be no sufficient compensation to a corpse, to know that the dynamite that laid him out was not of as good quality as it had been supposed to be.
...
Mississippi steamboating was born about 1812; at the end of thirty years, it had grown to mighty proportions; and in less than thirty more, it was dead! A strangely short life for so majestic a creature. Of course it is not absolutely dead, neither is a crippled octogenarian who could once jump twenty-two feet on level ground; but as contrasted with what it was in its prime vigor, Mississippi steamboating may be called dead.

If you've ever been involved in economic development activities, this might have a familiar ring. Change the industry to suit your town. But make your dynamite of the highest quality, all the same.