I'm married to a scavenger of sorts and he often totes home rescued boxes of books that I paw through with shiny, hungry eyes. I pull out the odd and interesting and add them to my teetering stack.
As the introduction states, Mark Twain wrote this at the height of his "gloominess, pessimism, and contempt for organized religion" and it shows. It still has his wit and humor, but it is darker and more sad than his earlier, more jovial works. It was a bit of a slog to get through.