Twain, Mark. A TRAMP ABROAD. (1880). ***. I’m a big fan of Mark Twain, but this novel is nothing more than a cobbled together series of sketches that would work better as part of his stage performances. He manages to skewer the German language and its complicated grammar. He records (or makes up out of wholecloth) a series of legends and then goes on to tear them to shreds. He spends a full chapter on the language of blue jays. His trip starts out in the Heidelberg region, then moves on to Switzerland, and finishes up in Venice. There is very little of the spark of the Twain who wrote “The Innocents Abroad.” This novel is more of a pasted together version of his daily notes and fancies. Disappointing.