By Mark Twain
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I was at a dinner in London given in honor of one of the most celebrated English military men of his time. I do not want to tell you his real name and titles. I will just call him Lieutenant General Lord Arthur Scoresby.
I cannot describe my excitement when I saw this great and famous man. There he sat, the man himself, all covered with medals. I could not take my eyes off him. He seemed to show the true mark of greatness. His fame had no effect on him. ...
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