For example, I never mentioned what I did to fellow who laid me open with a corn knife and I shan't as I wish to spare the sensibilities of the ladies present. Perhaps some evening after dinner, over cigars and brandy in the Gun Room I'll tell you, but not here.

I didn't do anything to him. I still have the scar, and he did himself in years later -- he went to jail for embezzlement, and him an Eagle Scout.

Nor, for the same reason, will I go into the story of the young man who shot at me with a US Rifle, Caliber 7.62mm, M14.

It was an accidental discharge and he missed, although not by much. I greatly enriched my vocabulary that day, taught by the First Sergeant who was standing next to shooter and who grabbed the rifle, cleared it, and....

Or of rappelling down a cliff that was some 200 feet high using only clothesline (no harness).

Back in day...when I was young and immortal.

Or my time as a boatman on The River and the visits to Natchez-Under-The-Hill.

I used to go boating on the Upper River, above Hannibal and below Keokuk. I've been to NUTH twice; it's a nice place and full of history.

Or the duels I fought while in college.

I took fencing (foil) and we dueled nearly every class. Sheesh, that's what you DO in a fencing class!

I have alluded to my friendship with Sam Clemens, but I will not sully his reputation as he is in no position to refute what I might say.

Of course he isn't -- he's been dead since 1910. Just like my friends Heinlein, Chaucer, Cervantes, Asimov and a host of others. They're in no position to refute me because they're all dead and have been for a while. Living authors might punch me in the nose or something.

The Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing But The Truth, so help me Hannah. It's hardly MY fault that you don't ask the right questions.