 Those Extraordinary Twins Introduction. A man who is born with the novel writing gift has a troublesome time of it when he tries to build a novel. I know this from experience. He has no clear idea of his story. In fact, he has no story. He merely has some people in his mind, and an incident or two, also a locality. He knows these people, he knows the selected locality, and he trusts that he can plunge those people into those incidents with interesting results. So he goes to work. To write a novel? No. That is a thought which comes later. In the beginning he is only proposing to tell a little tale, a very little tale, a six-page tale, but as it is a tale which he is not acquainted with and can only find out what it is by listening as it goes along telling itself, it is more than apt to go on and on and on till it spreads itself into a book. I know about this because it has happened to me so many times, and I have noticed another thing, that as the short tale grows into the long tale the original intention, or motif, is apt to get abolished and find itself superseded by a quite different one. It was so in the case of a magazine sketch which I once started to write, a funny and fantastic sketch about a prince and a pauper. It presently assumed a grave cast of its own accord, and in that new shape spread itself out into a book. Which the same thing happened with Puddinhead Wilson? I had a sufficiently hard time with that tale because it changed itself from a farce to a tragedy while I was going along with it, a most embarrassing circumstance. But what was a great deal worse was that it was not one story but two stories tangled together, and they obstructed and interrupted each other at every turn and created no end of confusion and annoyance. I could not offer the book for publication, for I was afraid it would unseat the reader's reason. I did not know what was the matter with it, for I had not noticed, as yet, that it was two stories in one. It took me months to make that discovery. I carried the manuscript back and forth across the Atlantic two or three times and read it and studied over it on ship-board, and at last I saw where the difficulty lay. I had no further trouble. I pulled one of the stories out by the roots and left the other one, a kind of literary Caesarean operation. Would the reader care to know something about the story which I pulled out? He has been told many a time how the born-and-trained novelist works. Won't he let me round and complete his knowledge by telling him how the jack leg does it? Originally the story was called Those Extraordinary Twins. I meant to make it very short. I had seen a picture of a youthful Italian freak, or freaks, which was, or which were, on exhibition in our cities, a combination consisting of two heads and four arms joined to a single body and a single pair of legs, and I thought I would write an extravagantly fantastic little story with this freak of nature for hero or heroes, a silly young miss for heroine and two old ladies and two boys for the minor parts. I lavishly elaborated these people and their doings, of course, but the tale kept spreading along and spreading along, and other people got to intruding themselves and taking up more and more room with their talk and their affairs. Among them came a stranger named Puddinhead Wilson, and a woman named Roxanna, and presently the doings of these two pushed up into prominence a young fellow named Tom Driscoll, whose proper place was away in the obscure background. Before the book was half finished, those three were taking things almost entirely into their own hands and working the whole tale as a private venture of their own, a tale which they had nothing at all to do with by rights. When the book was finished, and I came to look around to see what had become of the team I had originally started out with, Aunt Patsy Cooper, Aunt Betsy Hale, the two boys, and Rowena, the lightweight heroine, they were nowhere to be seen. They had disappeared from the story some time or other. I hunted about and found them. Found them stranded, idle, forgotten, and permanently useless. It was very awkward. It was awkward all round, but more particularly in the case of Rowena, because there was a love-match on between her and one of the twins that constituted the freak, and I had worked it up to a blistering heat and thrown in a quite dramatic love quarrel, wherein Rowena scathingly denounced her betrothed for getting drunk, and scoffed at his explanation of how it had happened and wouldn't listen to it, and had driven him from her in the usual, forever way, and now here she sat crying and broken-hearted, for she had found that he had spoken only the truth, that it was not he, but the other half of the freak that had drunk the liquor that made him drunk, that her half was a prohibitionist and had never drunk a drop in his life, and although tight as a brick three days in the week, was wholly innocent of blame, and indeed when sober was constantly doing all he could to reform his brother, the other half, who never got any satisfaction out of drinking anyway because liquor never affected him. Yes, here she was, stranded with that deep injustice of hers torturing her poor, torn heart. I didn't know what to do with her. I was as sorry for her as anybody could be, but the campaign was over, the book was finished. She was sidetracked, and there was no possible way of crowding her in anywhere. I could not leave her there, of course. It would not do. After spreading her out so and making such a to-do over her affairs, it would be absolutely necessary to account to the reader for her. I thought and thought and studied and studied, but I arrived at nothing. I finally saw plainly that there was really no way but one. I must simply give her the grand bounce. It grieved me to do it, for after associating with her so much, I had come to kind of like her after a fashion, notwithstanding she was such an ass and said such stupid irritating things, and was so nauseatingly sentimental, still it had to be done. So at the top of Chapter 17 I put in a calendar remark concerning July 4th, and began the chapter with this statistic. Rowena went out in the back yard after supper to see the fireworks, and fell down the well and got drowned. It seemed abrupt, but I thought maybe the reader wouldn't notice it, because I changed the subject right away to something else. Anyway, it loosened up Rowena from where she was stuck, and got her out of the way, and that was the main thing. It seemed a prompt good way of weeding out people that had got stalled, and a plenty good enough way for those others. So I hunted up the two boys, and said, they went out back one night to stone the cat, and fell down the well and got drowned. Next I searched around and found old Aunt Patsy Cooper and Aunt Betsy Hale, where they were aground, and said they went out back one night to visit the sick, and fell down the well and got drowned. I was going to drown some of the others, but I gave up the idea, partly because I believed that if I kept that up it would arouse attention, and perhaps sympathy with those people, and partly because it was not a large well and would not hold any more anyway. Still the story was unsatisfactory. Here was a set of new characters who were become inordinately prominent and who persisted in remaining so to the end, and back yonder was an older set who made a large noise and a great to-do for a little while, and then suddenly played out utterly and fell down the well. There was a radical defect somewhere, and I must search it out and cure it. The defect turned out to be the one already spoken of, two stories in one, a farce and a tragedy. So I pulled out the farce and left the tragedy. This left the original team in but only as mere names, not as characters. Their prominence was wholly gone. They were not even worth drowning, so I removed that detail. Also I took those twins apart and made two separate men of them. They had no occasion to have foreign names now, but it was too much trouble to remove them all through, so I left them christened as they were, and made no explanation. End of introduction. This is Chapter 1 of those extraordinary twins. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Those extraordinary twins by Mark Twain, Chapter 1, the twins as they really were. The conglomerate twins were brought on the stage in Chapter 1 of the original extravaganza. Aunt Patsy Cooper has received their letter applying for board and lodging, and Rowena, her daughter, sane with joy, is begging for a hearing of it. Well, sit down, then, and be quiet a minute, and don't fly around so. It fairly makes me tired to see you. It starts off so. Honored Madam. I like that ma, don't you? It shows their high bread. Yes, I noticed that when I first read it. My brother and I have seen your advertisement by chance in a copy of your local journal. It's so beautiful and smooth, ma. Don't you think so? Yes, seems so to me. And beg leave to take the room you offer. We are twenty-four years of age and twins. Twins? How sweet! I do hope they are handsome, and I just know they are. Don't you hope they are, ma? Land, I ain't particular. We are Italians by birth. It's a romantic. Just think there's never been one in this town and everybody will want to see them, and they're all ours. Think of that. But have lived long in the various countries of Europe and several years in the United States. Oh, just think what wonders they've seen, ma. Won't it be good to hear them talk? I reckon so. Yes, I reckon so. Our names are Luigi and Angelo Capello. Beautiful. Perfectly beautiful. Not like Jones and Robinson and those horrible names. You desire but one guest, but dear madam, if you will allow us to pay for two, we will not discomode you. We will sleep together in the same bed. We've always been used to this and prefer it. And then he goes on to say they will be down Thursday. And this is Tuesday. I don't know how I'm ever going to wait, ma. The time does drag along so, and I'm so dying to see them. Which of them do you reckon is the tallest, ma? How do you suppose I can tell, child? Mostly they are the same size twins are. Well then, which do you reckon is the best looking? Goodness knows. I don't. I think Angelo is—it's the prettiest name, anyway. Don't you think it's a sweet name, ma? Yes, it's well enough. I'd like both of them better if I knew the way to pronounce them. The Italian way, I mean. The Missouri way and the Italian way is different, a judge. Maybe, yes. It's Luigi that writes the letter. What do you reckon is the reason Angelo didn't write it? Why? How can I tell? What's the difference? Who writes it so long as it's done? Oh, I hope it wasn't because he is sick. You don't think he is sick, do you, ma? Sick, your granny. What's to make him sick? Oh, there's never any telling. These foreigners with that kind of names are so delicate, and of course that kind of names are not suited to our climate. He wouldn't expect it. And so on and so on, no end. The time drags along. Thursday comes. The boat arrives in a pouring storm toward midnight. At last there was a knock at the door, and the anxious family jumped to open it. Two Negro men entered, each carrying a trunk, and proceeded upstairs toward the guest room. Then followed a stupefying apparition. A double-headed human creature with four arms, one body, and a single pair of legs. It, or they, as you please, bowed with elaborate foreign formality, but the Coopers could not respond immediately. They were paralyzed. At this moment there came from the rear of the group a fervent ejaculation. My land! followed by a crash of crockery, and the slave wench Nancy stood petrified and staring with a tray of wrecked tea-things at her feet. The incident broke the spell and brought the family to consciousness. The beautiful heads of the newcomer bowed again, and one of them said with easy grace and dignity, I crave the honour, madam, and miss, to introduce you to my brother, Count Luigi Capello. The other had bowed, and myself Count Angelo. And at the same time offer sincere apologies for the lateness of our coming, which was unavoidable, and both heads bowed again. The poor old lady was in a whirl of amazement and confusion, but she managed to stammer out, I'm sure I'm glad to make your acquaintance, sir. I mean, gentlemen, as for the delay it is nothing. Don't mention it. This is my daughter Rowena, sir, gentlemen. Please step into the parlour and sit down, and have a bite and sup. You are dreadful wet, and must be uncomfortable. Both of you, I mean. But to the old lady's relief they courteously excused themselves, saying it would be wrong to keep the family out of their beds longer. Then each had bowed in turn, and uttered a friendly good-night, and the singular figure moved away in the wake of Rowena's small brothers, who bore candles, and disappeared up the stairs. The widow tottered into the parlour and sank into a chair with a gasp, and Rowena followed, tongue-tied and dazed. The two sat silent in the throbbing summer heat, unconscious of the million-voiced music of the mosquitoes, unconscious of the roaring gale, the lashing and thrashing of the rain along the windows and the roof, the white glare of the lightning, the tumultuous booming and bellowing of the thunder, conscious of nothing but that prodigy, that uncanny apparition that had come and gone so suddenly, that weird, strange thing that was so soft-spoken and so gentle of manner, and yet had shaken them up like an earthquake with a shock of its gruesome aspect. At last a cold little shudder quivered along down the widow's meager frame, and she said in a weak voice, uh, it was awful just the mere look of that Philippine. Rowena did not answer. Her faculties were still caked. She had not yet found her voice. Presently the widow said a little resentfully, Always been used to sleeping together, in fact prefer it, and I was thinking it was to accommodate me. I thought it was very good of them, whereas a person situated as that young man is, ma, you oughtn't to begin by getting up a prejudice against him. I'm sure he is good-hearted and means well. Both of his faces show it. I'm not so certain about that. The one on the left, I mean, the one on its left, hasn't near as good a face in my opinion as its brother. That's Luigi. Yes, Luigi. Anyway, it's the dark-skinned one. The one that was west of his brother when they stood in the door. Up to all kinds of mischief and disobedience when he was a boy, I'll be bound. I lay his mother had trouble to lay her hand on him when she wanted him. But the one on the right is as good as gold. I can see that. That's Angelo. Yes, Angelo, I reckon, though I can't tell Tother from which by their names yet a while. But it's the right-hand one, the blonde one. He has such kind blue eyes and curly copper hair and fresh complexion, and such a noble face. Oh, it is a noble face, ma, just royal, you may say. And beautiful, dearie me, how beautiful—but both are that. The dark one's as beautiful as a picture. There's no such wonderful faces and handsome heads in this town none that even begin. And such hands, especially Angelo's, so shapely and stuff. How could you tell which they belonged to? They had gloves on. Why, didn't I see them take off their hats? That don't signify. They might have taken off each other's hats. Nobody could tell. There was just a wormy squirming of arms in the air, seemed to be a couple of dozen of them, all writhing at once, and it just made me dizzy to see them go. Why, ma, I hadn't any difficulty. There's two arms on each shoulder. There, now, one arm on each shoulder belongs to each of the creatures, don't it? For a person to have two arms on one shoulder wouldn't do him any good, would it? Of course not. Each has an arm on each shoulder. Now then, you tell me which one of them belongs to which, if you can. They don't know themselves. They just work whichever arm comes handy. Of course they do, especially if they are in a hurry and can't stop to think which belongs to which. The mother seemed to have the rights of the argument, so the daughter abandoned the struggle. Presently the widow rose with a yawn and said, Poor thing. I hope it won't catch cold. It was powerful wet, just drenched, you may say. I hope it is left its boots outside so they can be dried. Then she gave a little start and looked perplexed. Now I remember I heard one of them ask Joe to call him at half after seven. I think it was the one on the left. No. It was the one to the east of the other one. But I didn't hear the other one say anything. I wonder if he wants to be called too. Do you reckon it's too late to ask? Why, ma, it's not necessary. Calling one is calling both. If one gets up, the other's got to. Sure, of course. I never thought of that. Well, come along. Maybe we can get some sleep, but I don't know. I'm so shook up with what we've been through. The stranger had made an impression on the boys, too. They had a word of talk as they were getting to bed. Henry, the gentle, the humane, said, I feel ever so sorry for it, don't you, Joe? But Joe was a boy of this world, active, enterprising, and had a theatrical side to him. Sorry. Why? How you talk! I can't stir a step without attracting attention. It's just grand, Henry said reproachfully. Instead of pitting it, Joe, you talk as if talk is if what. I know one thing might a certain. If you can fix me so I can eat for two and only have to stub toes for one, I ain't going to fool away no such chance just for a sentiment. The twins were wet and tired, and they proceeded to undress without any preliminary remarks. The abundance of sleeve made the partnership coat hard to get off, for it was like skinning a tarantula. But it came at last after much tugging and perspiring. The mutual vest followed, then the brothers stood up before the glass, and each took off his own cravat and collar. The collars were of the standing kind, and came high up under the ears, like the sides of a wheel-barrow, as required by the fashion of the day. The cravats were as broad as a bank bill, with fringed ends which stood far out to the right and left like the wings of a dragonfly, and this also was strictly in accordance with the fashion of the time. Each cravat, as to color, was in perfect taste. So far as its owner's complexion was concerned, a delicate pink in the case of the blonde brother, a violent scarlet in the case of the brunette. But as a combination they broke all the laws of taste known to civilization. Nothing more fiendish and irreconcilable than those shrieking and blaspheming collars could have been contrived. The wet boots gave no end of trouble to Luigi. When they were off at last, Angelo said with bitterness, I wish you wouldn't wear such tight boots they hurt my feet. Luigi answered with indifference, My friend, when I am in command of our body I choose my apparel according to my own convenience, as I have remarked more than several times already. When you are in command, I beg you will do as you please." Angelo was hurt, and the tears came into his eyes. There was gentle reproach in his voice, but not anger, when he replied, Luigi, I often consult your wishes, but you never consult mine. When I am in command I treat you as a guest. I try to make you feel at home. When you are in command, you treat me as an intruder. You make me feel unwelcome. It embarrasses me cruelly in company, for I can see that people notice it and comment on it. Oh, damn the people! responded the brother languidly, and with the air of one who is tired of the subject. A slight shudder shook the frame of Angelo, but he said nothing, and the conversation ceased. Each buttoned his own share of the night-shirt in silence. Then Luigi, with pain's age of reason in his hand, sat down in one chair and put his feet in another, and lit his pipe, while Angelo took his whole duty of man and both began to read. Angelo presently began to cough. His coughing increased and became mixed with gaspings for breath, and he was finally obliged to make an appeal to his brother's humanity. Luigi, if you would only smoke a little milder tobacco, I am sure I could learn not to mind it in time, but this is so strong, and the pipe is so rank, that Angelo. I wouldn't be such a baby. I have learned to smoke in a week, and the trouble is already over with me. If you would try, you could learn too, and then you would stop spoiling my comfort with your everlasting complaints. Ah, brother, that is a strong word, everlasting, and it isn't quite fair. I only complain when I suffocate. You know I don't complain when we are in the open air. Well, anyway, you could learn to smoke yourself. But my principles, Luigi, you forget my principles. You would not have me do a thing which I regard as a sin. Oh, Blasch! The conversation ceased again, for Angelo was sick and discouraged and strangling. But after some time he closed his book and asked Luigi to sing from Greenland's icy mountains with him, but he would not, and when he tried to sing by himself, Luigi did his best to drown his plaintive tenor with a rude and rollicking song delivered in a thundering bass. After the singing there was silence, and neither brother was happy. Before blowing the light out, Luigi swallowed half a tumbler of whiskey, and Angelo, whose sensitive organization could not endure intoxicants of any kind, took a pill to keep it from giving him the headache. END OF CHAPTER 2 Ma Cooper gets all mixed up. The family sat in the breakfast room waiting for the twins to come down. The widow was quiet. The daughter was alive with happy excitement. She said, Ah, they're a boon, ma, just a boon. Don't you think so? Las, I hope so, I don't know. Why, ma, yes you do. They're so fine and handsome and high-bred and polite. So every way superior to our gawks here in this village. Why, they'll make life different from what it was, so humdrum and commonplace, you know. Oh, you may be sure they're full of accomplishments and knowledge of the world and all that. That will be an immense advantage to society here. Don't you think so, ma? Mercy on me, how should I know? And I've hardly set eyes on them yet. After a pause, she added, they made considerable noise after they went up. Noise? Why, ma, they were singing. And it was beautiful, too. Oh, it was well enough. But two mixed up seemed to me. Now, ma, on a bright—did you ever hear Greenland's icy mountain sung sweeter—now, did you? If it had been sung by itself, it would have been uncommon sweet. I don't deny it. But what they wanted to mix it up with old Bob Ridley for, I can't make out. Why, they don't go together at all. They're not of the same nature. Bob Ridley is a common rackety slam-bang secular song, one of the rippingest and rantingest and noisiest there is. I am no judge of music, and I don't claim it. But, in my opinion, nobody can make those two songs go together right. Why, ma, I thought it don't make any difference what you thought it can't be done. They tried it, and to my mind it was a failure. I never heard such a crazy uproar. Seemed to me, sometimes, the roof would come off. And as for the cats—well, I've lived a many a year and seen cats aggravated in more ways than one, but I've never seen cats take on the way they took on last night. Well, I don't think that that goes for anything, ma, because it is the nature of cats that any sound that is unusual—unusual—you may well call it so. Now, if they are going to sing duets every night, I do hope they will both sing the same tune at the same time, for in my opinion, a duet that is made up of two different tunes is a mistake. Especially when the tunes ain't any kin to one another that way. But, ma, I think it must be a foreign custom, and it must be right, too, in the best way, because they have had every opportunity to know what is right, and it don't stand to reason that with their education they would do anything but what the highest musical authorities have sanctioned. You can't help but admit that, ma. The argument was forminably strong. The old lady could not find any way around it. So, after thinking it over a while, she gave in with a sigh of discontent, and admitted that the daughter's position was probably correct. Being vanquished, she had no mind to continue the topic at that disadvantage, and was about to seek a change when a change came of itself. A footstep was heard on the stairs, and she said, There! He's coming! They, ma! You ought to say they! It's nearer right! The new lodger, rather shoutingly dressed but looking superbly handsome, stepped with courtly carnage into the trim little breakfast-room, and put out all his cordial arms at once, like one of those pocket knives with a multiplicity of blades, and shook hands with the whole family simultaneously. He was so easy and pleasant and hearty that all embarrassment presently thawed away and disappeared, and a cheery feeling of friendliness and comradeship took its place. He, or preferably they, were asked to occupy the seat of honor at the foot of the table. They consented with thanks, and carved the beef steak with one set of their hands, while they distributed it at the same time with the other set. Will you have coffee, gentlemen, or tea? Coffee for Luigi, if you please, madam. Tea for me. Cream and sugar? For me, yes, madam. Luigi takes his coffee black. Our natures differ a good deal from each other, and our tastes also. The first time the negro girl Nancy appeared in the door and saw the two heads turned in opposite directions, and both talking at once, then saw the commingling arms feed potatoes into one mouth and coffee into the other at the same time. She had to pause and pull herself out of a faintness that came over her. But after that she held her grip and was able to wait on the table with fair courage. Conversation fell naturally into the customary grooves. It was a little jerky at first, because none of the family could get smoothly through a sentence without a wobble in it here and a break there, caused by some new surprise in the way of attitude or gesture on the part of the twins. The weather suffered the most. The weather was all finished up and disposed of as a subject before the simple Missourians had gotten sufficiently wanted to the spectacle of one body feeding two heads to feel composed and reconciled in the presence of so bizarre a miracle. And even after everybody's mind became tranquilized there was still one slight distraction left. The hand that picked up a biscuit carried it to the wrong head, as often as any other way, and the wrong mouth devoured it. This was a puzzling thing and marred the talk a little. It bothered the widow to such a degree that she presently dropped out of the conversation without knowing it, and fell to watching and guessing and talking to herself. Now that hand is going to take that coffee to—no, it's gone to the other mouth. I can't understand it. And now here is the dark complexed hand with a potato in its fork. I'll see what goes with it. There the light-complexed heads got it, as sure as I live. Finally Rowena said, Ma, what is the matter with you? Are you dreaming about something? The old lady came to herself and blushed. Then she explained with the first random thing that came into her mind. I saw Mr. Angelo take up Mr. Luigi's coffee, and I thought maybe he—should I give you a cup, Mr. Angelo? Oh no, madam. I am very much obliged, but I never drink coffee, much as I would like to. You did see me take up Luigi's cup. It is true, but if you noticed I didn't carry it to my mouth, but to his. Yes, I thought you did. Did you mean to? How? The widow was a little embarrassed again. She said, I don't know, but what I am foolish, and you mustn't mind. But you see, he got the coffee I was expecting to see you drink, and you got a potato that I thought he was going to get. So I thought it might be a mistake all around, and everybody getting what wasn't intended for him. Both twins laughed, and Luigi said, Dear madam, there wasn't any mistake. We are always helping each other that way. It is a great economy for us both. It saves time and labor. We have a system of signs which nobody can notice or understand but ourselves. If I am using both my hands and want some coffee, I make the sign and Angelo furnaces it to me. And you saw that when he needed a potato I delivered it. How convenient! Yes, and often of the extremist value. Take the Mississippi boats, for instance. They are always overcrowded. There is table-room for only half of the passengers. Therefore they have to set a second table for the second half. The stewards rush both parties. They give them no time to eat a satisfying meal. Both divisions leave the table hungry. It isn't so with us. Angelo books himself for the one table. I book myself for the other. Neither of us eats anything at the other's table, but just simply works. Works. Thus you see there are four hands to feed Angelo, and the same four to feed me. Each of us eats two meals. The old lady was dazed with admiration and kept saying, It is perfectly wonderful, perfectly wonderful. And the boy, Joe, licked his chops enviously, but said nothing, at least allowed. Yes, continued Luigi, our construction may have its disadvantages. In fact, has. But it also has its compensations of one sort and another. Take travel, for instance. Travel is enormously expensive in all countries. We have been obliged to do a vast deal of it. Come, Angelo, don't put any more sugar in your tea. I'm just over one indigestion and don't want another right away. Been obliged to do a deal of it, as I was saying. Well, we always travel as one person, since we occupy but one seat, so we save half the fare. How romantic! interjected Rowena with a fusion. Yes, my dear young lady, and how practical too, and economical. In Europe beds in the hotels are not charged with the board, but separately. Another saving, for we stood to our rights and paid for the one bed only. The landlords often insisted that as both of us occupied the bed we ought— No, they didn't, said Angelo. They did it only twice, and in both cases it was a double bed, a rare thing in Europe, and the double bed gave them some excuse. Be fair to the landlords, twice doesn't constitute often. Well, that depends, that depends. I knew a man who fell down a well twice. He said he didn't mind the first time, but he thought the second time was once too often. Have I misused that word, Mrs. Cooper? To tell the truth, I was afraid you had, but it seems to look now like you hadn't. She stopped and was evidently struggling with a difficult problem a moment. Then she added in the tone of one who is convinced without being converted. It seems so, but I can't somehow tell why. Rowena thought Luigi's retort was wonderfully quick and bright, and she remarked to herself with satisfaction that there wasn't any young native of Dawson's Landing that could have risen to the occasion like that. Luigi detected the applause in her face and expressed his pleasure and his thanks with his eyes, and so eloquently with all that the girl was proud and pleased, and hung out the delicate sign of it on her cheeks. Luigi went on with animation. Both of us get a bath for one ticket, theater seat for one ticket. Pure rent is on the same basis, but at peep shows we pay double. We have much to be thankful for, said Angelo impressively, with a reverent light in his eye and a reminiscent tone in his voice. We have been greatly blessed, as rule, what one of us has lacked, the other, by the bounty of providence, has been able to supply. My brother is hardy. I am not. He is very masculine, assertive, aggressive. I am much less so. I am subject to illness. He is never ill. I cannot abide medicines, and cannot take them, but he has no prejudice against them, and why, goodness gracious, interrupted the widow, when you are sick, does he take the medicine for you? Always, madam. Why, I never heard such a thing in my life. I think it's beautiful of you. Oh, madam, it's nothing. Don't mention it. It's really nothing at all. But I say it's beautiful, and I stick to it, cried the widow with a speaking moisture in her eye. A well brother to take the medicine for his poor sick brother. I wish I had such a son. And she glanced reproachfully at her boys. I declare I'll never rest till I've shook you by the hand, and she scrambled out of her chair in a fever of generous enthusiasm, and made for the twins, blind with her tears, and began to shake. The boy Joe corrected her. You're shaking the wrong one, ma! This flurried her, but she made a swift change and went on shaking. Got the wrong one again, ma! said the boy. Oh, shut up, can't you? said the widow, embarrassed and irritated. Give me all your hands. I want to shake them all, for I know you are both just as good as you can be. It was a victorious thought. A master stroke of diplomacy, though that never occurred to her, and she cared nothing for diplomacy. She shook the four hands in turn cordially, and went back to her place in a state of high and fine exaltation that made her look young and handsome. Indeed I owe everything to Luigi, said Angelo affectionately, but for him I could not have survived our boyhood days when we were friendless and poor. Ah, so poor! We lived from hand to mouth, lived on the coarse fare of unwilling charity, and for weeks and weeks together not a morsel of food passed my lips, for its character revolted me and I could not eat it. But for Luigi I should have died. He ate for us both. How noble! sighed Rowena. Do you hear that? said the widow, severely to her boys. Let it be an example to you. I mean you, Joe. Joe gave his head a barely perceptible disparaging toss, and said, Ant for both. It ain't anything. I'd have done it. Hush! If you haven't got any better manners than that, you don't see the point at all. It wasn't good food. I don't care. It was food, and I'd have added it if it was rotten. Shame such language. Can't you understand? They were starving, actually starving. And he ate for both. And shucks! You give me a chance, and out there now. Close your head, and don't you open it again till you're asked. Angela goes on and tells how his parents, the Count and Countess, had to fly from Florence for political reasons, and died poor in Berlin, bereft of their great property by confiscation, and how he and Luigi had to travel with a freak show during two years and suffer semi-starvation. That hateful black bread! But I seldom ate anything during that time. That was poor Luigi's affair. I'll never mister him again, cried the widow, with strong emotion. He's Luigi to me from this out. Thank you a thousand times, madam, a thousand times. Though in truth I don't deserve it. Ah! Luigi is always the fortunate one when honors are showering, said Angelo plaintively. Now, what have I done, Mrs. Cooper, that you leave me out? Come, you must strain a point in my favor. Call you Angelo? Why, certainly I will. What are you thinking of? In the case of twins, why, but ma, you're breaking up the story. Do let him go on. You keep still Rowena Cooper, and he can go on all the better, I reckon. One interruption don't hurt. It's two that makes the trouble. But you've added one now, and that is three. Rowena, I will not allow you to talk back at me when you have got nothing rational to say. End of Chapter 2 This is Chapter 3 of those extraordinary twins. This Liebervox recording is in the public domain. Those extraordinary twins by Mark Twain, Chapter 3. Angelo is blue. After breakfast the whole village crowded in, and there was a grand reception in honor of the twins, and at the close of it the gifted freak captured everybody's admiration by sitting down at the piano and knocking out a classic four-handed piece in great style. Then the judge took it, or them, driving in his buggy, and showed off his village. All along the streets the people crowded the windows and stared at the amazing twins. Troops of small boys flocked after the buggy, excited and yelling. At first the dogs showed no interest. They thought they merely saw three men in a buggy, a matter of no consequence. But when they found out the facts of the case, they altered their opinion pretty radically, and joined the boys, expressing their minds as they came. Other dogs got interested. Indeed, all the dogs, it was a spirited sight to see them come leaping fences, tearing around corners, swarming out of every by-street and alley. The noise they made was something beyond belief or praise. They did not seem to be moved by malice, but only by prejudice, the common human prejudice against lack of conformity. If the twins turned their heads they broke and fled in every direction, but stopped at a safe distance and faced about. And then formed and came on again as soon as the strangers showed them their back. Negroes and farmers' wives took to the woods when the buggy came upon them suddenly, and all together the drive was pleasant and animated, and a refreshment all around. It was a long and lively drive. Angelo was a Methodist, Luigi was a free thinker. The judge was very proud of his Free Thinker Society, which was flourishing along in a most prosperous way, and already had two members, himself, and the obscure and neglected Putinhead Wilson. It was to meet that evening, and he invited Luigi to join, a thing which Luigi was glad to do, partly because it would please himself, and partly because it would gravel Angelo. They had now arrived at the widow's gate and the excursion was ended. The twins politely expressed their obligations for the pleasant outing, which had been afforded them, to which the judge bowed his thanks, and then said he would now go and arrange for the Free Thinker's meeting, and would call for Count Luigi in the evening. For you also, dear sir," he added hastily, turning to Angelo and bowing, "...in addressing myself particularly to your brother, I was not meaning to leave you out. It was an unintentional rudeness, I assure you, and due wholly to accident—accident and preoccupation. I beg you to forgive me." His quick eye had seen the sensitive blood mount into Angelo's face, betraying the wound that had been inflicted. The sting of the slight had gone deep, but the apology was so prompt and so evidently sincere that the hurt was almost immediately healed, and a forgiving smile testified to the kindly judge that all was well again. Concealed behind Angelo's modest and unassuming exterior, and unsuspected by any but his intimates, was a lofty pride, a pride of almost abnormal proportions indeed, and this rendered him ever the prey of slights, and although they were almost always imaginary ones, they hurt none the less on that account. By ill fortune Judge Driscoe had happened to touch his soreous point, i.e. his conviction that his brother's presence was welcomeer everywhere than his own, that he was often invited out of mere courtesy, where only his brother was wanted, and that, in a majority of cases, he would not be included in an invitation, if he could be left out without a fence. A sensitive nature like this is necessarily subject to moods, moods which traverse the whole gamut of feeling, moods which know all the climes of emotion, from the sunny heights of joy, to the black abysses of despair. At times in his seasons of deepest depressions, Angelo almost wished that he and his brother might become segregated from each other and be separate individuals, like other men. But, of course, as soon as his mind cleared and these diseased imaginings passed away, he shuttered at the repulsive thought, and earnestly prayed that it might visit him no more. To be separate and, as other men are, how awkward it would seem! How unendurable! What would he do with his hands, his arms? How would his legs feel? How odd and strange and grotesque every action, attitude, movement, gesture would be! To sleep by himself, eat by himself, walk by himself! How lonely! How unspeakably lonely! No, no, any fate but that! In every way and from every point the idea was revolting. This was, of course, natural, to have felt otherwise would have been unnatural. He had known no life but a combined one, he had been familiar with it from his birth. He was not able to conceive of any other as being agreeable or even bearable. To him, in the privacy of his secret thoughts, all other men were monsters, deformities, and during three-fourths of his life their aspect had filled him with what promised to be an unconquerable aversion. But at eighteen his eye began to take note of female beauty, and little by little undefined longings grew up in his heart, under whose softening influences the old stubborn aversion gradually diminished and finally disappeared. Men were still monstrosities to him, still deformities, and in his sober moments he had no desire to be like them, but their strange and unsocial and uncanny construction was no longer offensive to him. This had been a hard day for him, physically and mentally. He had been called in the morning before he had quite slept off the effects of the liquor which Luigi had drunk, and so, for the first half hour, had had the seedy feeling and languor, the brooding depression, the cobwebby mouth, and druggy taste that come of dissipation and are so ill a preparation for bodily or intellectual activities. The long, violent strain of the reception had followed, and this had been followed in turn by the dreary sight-seeing, the judge's wearying explanations and laudations of the sights, and the stupefying clamor of the dogs. As a congruous conclusion, a fitting end, his feelings had been hurt, a slight had been put upon him. He would have been glad to forego dinner and butake himself to rest and sleep, but he held his peace and said no word, for he knew his brother Luigi was fresh, unweary, full of life, spirit, energy. He would have scoffed at the idea of wasting valuable time on a bed or sofa, and would have refused permission. THOSE EXTRAORDINARY TWINS BY MARK TWAIN CHAPTER IV SUPERNATURAL CRONOMETRY Rowena was dining out. Joe and Harry were belated at play. There were but three chairs, and four persons that noon at the home dinner table. The twins, the widow and her chum, Aunt Betsy Hale. The widow soon perceived that Angelo's spirits were as low as Luigi's were high, and also that he had a jaded look. Her motherly solicitude was aroused, and she tried to get him interested in the talk and win him to a happier frame of mind, but the cloud of sadness remained on his countenance. Luigi lent his help, too. He used a form and a phrase which he was always accustomed to employ in these circumstances. He gave his brother an affectionate slap on the shoulder and said encouragingly, Cheer up! The worst is yet to come! But this did no good. It never did. If anything, it made the matter worse as a rule, because it irritated Angelo. This made it a favorite with Luigi. By and by, the widow said, Angelo, you are tired. You've overdone yourself. You go right to bed after dinner, and get a good nap and a rest. Then you'll be all right. Indeed. I would give anything if I could do that, madam. And what's to hinder? I'd like to know. Land! The room's yours to do what you please with. The idea that you can't do what you like with your own. But you see, there's one prime essential—an essential of the very first importance, which isn't my own. What is that? My body. The old ladies looked puzzled, and Betsy Hale said, Well, bless your heart. How is that? It's my brother's. Your brother's? I don't quite understand. I supposed it belonged to both of you. So it does, but not to both at the same time. That is mighty curious. I don't see how it can be. I shouldn't think it could be managed that way. Oh, it's a good enough arrangement, and goes very well. In fact, it wouldn't do to have it otherwise. I find that the teetotallers and the anti-teetotallers hire the use of the same hall for their meetings. Both parties don't use it at the same time, do they? You bet they don't, said both old ladies in a breath. And moreover, said Aunt Betsy, the free thinkers and the Baptist Bible-class use the same room over the market-house, but you can take my word for it. They don't mush up together and use it at the same time. Very well, said Angelo. You understand it now. And it stands to reason that the arrangement couldn't be improved. I'll prove it to you. If our legs tried to obey two wills, how could we ever get anywhere? I would start one way, Luigi would start another, at the same moment. The result would be a standstill, wouldn't it? As sure as you were born. Now, ain't that wonderful? A body would never have thought of it. We should always be arguing and fussing and disputing over the mirrors' trifles. We should lose worlds of time. For we couldn't go downstairs or up, couldn't go to bed, couldn't rise, couldn't wash, couldn't dress, couldn't stand up, couldn't sit down, couldn't even cross our legs without calling a meeting first and explaining the case and passing resolutions and getting consent. It wouldn't ever do. Now, would it do? Why, it would wear a person out in a week. Did you ever hear anything like it, Patsy Cooper? Oh, you'll find there's more than one thing about them that ain't commonplace, said the widow, with the complacent air of a person with a property right in a novelty that is under admiring scrutiny. Well, now, however do you manage it. I don't mind saying I'm suffering to know. He who made us, said Angelo reverently, and with us this difficulty also provided a way out of it. By a mysterious law of our being each of us has utter and indisputable command of our body a week at a time. Turn and turn about. Well, I never. Now, ain't that beautiful? Yes, it is beautiful and infinitely wise and just. The week ends every Saturday at midnight, to the minute, to the second, to the last shade of a fraction of a second, infallibly, unerringly, and in that instant the one brother's power over the body vanishes, and the other brother takes possession asleep or awake. How marvellous are his ways and past finding out! Luigi said, so exactly to the instant does the change come, that during our stay in many of the great cities of the world the public clocks were regulated by it, and as hundreds of thousands of private clocks and watches were set and corrected in accordance with the public clocks, we really furnished the standard time for the entire city. Don't tell me that he don't do miracles any more. Blowing down the walls of Jericho with rams horns weren't as difficult in my opinion. And that is not all, said Angelo. A thing that is even more marvellous perhaps is the fact that the change takes note of longitude and fits itself to the meridian we are on. Luigi is in command this week. Now, if on Saturday night, at a moment before midnight, we could fly in an instant to a point fifteen degrees west of here, he would hold possession of the power another hour, for the change observes local time and no other. Betsy Hale was deeply impressed and said with solemnity, Patsy Cooper, for detail it lays over the passage of the Red Sea. Now, I shouldn't go as far as that, said Aunt Patsy, but if you've a mind to say Sodom and Gomorrah, I am with you, Betsy Hale. I am agreeable then, though I do think I was right, and I believe Parson Maltby would say the same. Well, now there's another thing. Suppose one of you wants to borrow the legs a minute from the one that's got them. Could he let him? Yes, but we hardly ever do that. There were disagreeable results several times, and so we very seldom ask or grant the privilege nowadays, and we never even think of such a thing unless the case is extremely urgent. Besides, a week's possession at a time seems so little that we can't bear to spare a minute of it. People who have the use of their legs all the time never think of what a blessing it is, of course. It never occurs to them. It's just their natural, ordinary condition, and so it does not excite them at all. But when I wake up on Sunday morning, and it's my week, and I feel the power all through me, oh, such a wave of exaltation and thanksgiving goes surging over me, and I want to shout, I can walk, I can walk! Madam, do you ever, at your uprising, want to shout, I can walk, I can walk? No. You poor unfortunate reader. But I'll never get out of my bed again without doing it, laws, to think I've had this unspeakable blessing all my long life, and never had the grace to thank the good Lord that gave it to me. Tears stood in the eyes of both the old ladies, and the widow said softly, Betsy Hale, we have learned something you and me. The conversation now drifted wide, but by and by floated back once more to that admired detail, the rigid and beautiful impartiality with which the possession of power had been distributed between the twins. Aunt Betsy saw in it a far finer justice than human law exhibits in related cases. She said, in my opinion it ain't right now, and never has been right the way a twin born a quarter of a minute sooner than the other one gets all the land and grandeurs and nobilities in the old countries, and his brother has to go bare and be a nobody. Which of you was born first? Angelo's head was resting against Luigi's weariness had overcome him, and for the past five minutes he had been peacefully sleeping. The old ladies had dropped their voices to a lulling drone to help him to steal the rest his brother wouldn't take him upstairs to get. Luigi listened a moment to Angelo's regular breathing, then said in a voice barely audible, We were both born at the same time. But I am six months older than he is, for the land's sake, shh, don't wake him up. He wouldn't like my telling this. It has always been kept secret till now. But how in the world can it be? If you were both born at the same time, how can one of you be older than the other? It is very simple, and I assure you it is true. I was born with a full crop of hair. He was as bald as an egg for six months. I could walk six months before he could make a step. I finished teething six months ahead of him. I began to take solids six months before he left the breast. I began to talk six months before he could say a word. Last and absolutely unassailable proof, the sutures in my skull closed six months ahead of his. All was just that six months difference to a day. Was that accident? Nobody is going to claim that, I'm sure. It was ordained. It was law. It had its meaning, and we know what that meaning was. Now, what does this overwhelming body of evidence establish? It establishes just one thing, and that thing it establishes beyond any per-adventure whatever. Friends, we would not have it known for the world, and I must beg you to keep it strictly to yourselves. But the truth is, we are no more twins than you are. The two old ladies were stunned, paralyzed, petrified, one may almost say, and could only sit and gaze vacantly at each other for some moments. Then Aunt Betsy Hale said impressively, There's no getting around proof like that. I do believe it's the most amazing thing I ever heard of. She sat silent a moment or two and breathing hard with excitement. Then she looked up and surveyed the stranger steadfastly a little while and added, Well, it does beat me, but I would have took you for twins anywhere. So would I. So would I, said Aunt Betsy, with the emphasis of a certainty that is not impaired by any shade of doubt. Anybody would. Anybody in the world. I don't care who he is, said Aunt Betsy, with decision. You won't tell, said Luigi, appealingly. Oh, dear, no! answered both ladies promptly. You can trust us, don't you, be afraid. That is good of you, and kind. Never let on. Treat us always as if we were twins. You can depend on us, said Aunt Betsy. But it won't be easy, because now that I know you ain't, you don't seem so. Luigi muttered to himself with satisfaction. That swindle has gone through without change of cars. It was not very kind of him to load the poor things up with a secret like that, which would be always flying to their tongues ends every time they heard anyone speak of the strangers as twins, and would become harder and harder to hang on to with every recurrence of the temptation to tell it, while the torture of retaining it would increase with every new strain that was applied. But he never thought of that, and probably would not have worried much about it if he had. A visitor was announced, someone to see the twins. They withdrew to the parlor, and the two old ladies began to discuss with interest the strange things which they had been listening to. When they had finished the matter to their satisfaction, and Aunt Betsy rose to go, she stopped to ask a question. How does things come on between Rowaney and Tom Driscoll? Well, about the same. He writes tolerable often, and she answers tolerable seldom. Where is he? In St. Louis, I believe, though he's such a gat about that a body can't be certain of him, I reckon. Don't Rowaney know? Oh, yes, like enough. I haven't asked her lately. Do you know how him and the judge are getting along now? First rate, I believe. Mrs. Pratt says so, and being right in the house, and sister to the one and aunt to the other, of course she ought to know. She says the judge is real fond of him when he's away, but frets when he's around and is vexed with his ways, and not sorry to have him go again. He has been gone three weeks this time, a pleasant thing for both of them, I reckon. Tom's rather harem scarum, but there ain't anything bad in him, I guess. Oh no, he's just young, that's all. Still, twenty-three is old in one way. A young man ought to be earning his living by that time. If Tom were doing that, or was even trying to do it, the judge would be a heap better satisfied with him. Tom's always going to begin, but somehow he can't seem to find just the opening he likes. Well, now, it's partly the judge's own fault, promising the boy his property wasn't the way to set him to earning a fortune of his own. But what do you think? Is Rowaney beginning to lean any toward him, or ain't she? And Pratt's he had a secret in her bosom. She wanted to keep it there. But nature was too strong for her. She drew Aunt Betsy aside, and said in her most confidential and mysterious manner, Don't you breathe a syllable to a soul. I'm going to tell you something. In my opinion, Tom Driscoll's chances were considerable better yesterday than they are today. Patsy Cooper, what do you mean? It's so, as sure as you're born. I wish you could have been at breakfast and seen for yourself. You don't mean it. Well, if I'm any judge, there's a leaning. There's a leaning, sure. My land. Which one of them is it? I can't say for certain, but I think it's the youngest one. Angie. Then there were handshakeings and congratulations and hopes and so on, and the old ladies parted perfectly happy. The one in knowing something which the rest of the town didn't, and the other in having been the sole person able to furnish that knowledge. The visitor who had called to see the twins was the Reverend Mr. Hodgkis, pastor of the Baptist Church. At the reception, Angelo had told him he had lately experienced a change in his religious views and was now desirous of becoming a Baptist, and would immediately join Mr. Hodgkis's church. There was no time to say more, and the brief talk ended at that point. The minister was much gratified and had dropped in for a moment now to invite the twins to attend his Bible class at eight that evening. Angelo accepted, and was expecting Luigi to decline, but he did not, because he knew that the Bible class and the free thinkers met in the same room, and he wanted to treat his brother to the embarrassment of being caught in free thinking company. Chapter 5 Guilt and Innocence Finally Blent Parentheses A long and vigorous quarrel follows between the twins, and there is plenty to quarrel about, for Angelo was always seeking truth, and this obliged him to change and improve his religion with frequency, which we read Luigi and annoyed him too, for he had to be present at each new enlistment, which placed him in the false position of seeming to endorse and approve his brother's fickleness. Moreover, he had to go to Angelo's prohibition meetings, and he hated them. On the other hand, when it was his week to command the legs, he gave Angelo just cause of complaint, for he took him to circuses and horse races and fandangos, exposing him to all sorts of censure and criticism, and he drank too, and whatever he drank went to Angelo's head instead of his own, and made him act disgracefully. When the evening was come the two attended the Free Thinker's meeting, where Angelo was sad and silent, then came the Bible class, and looked upon him coldly, finding him in such company. Then they went to Wilson's house, and Chapter 11 of Puddinhead Wilson follows, which tells of the girl, seen in Tom Driscoll's room, and closes with the kicking of Tom by Luigi at the anti-temperance mass meeting of the Sons of Liberty, with the addition of some account of Roxy's adventures as a chambermaid on a Mississippi boat. Her exchange of the children had been flippantly and farcically described in an earlier Chapter. CLOSE PRINCESSES Next morning all the town was abuzz with great news. Puddinhead Wilson had a law case. The public astonishment was so great, and the public curiosity so intense, that when the justice of the peace opened his court, the place was packed with people, and even the windows were full. Everybody was flushed and perspiring, the summer heat was almost unendurable. Tom Driscoll had brought a charge of assault and battery against the twins. Robert Allen was retained by Driscoll, David Wilson by the defense. Tom, his native cheerfulness unannihilated by his back-breaking and bone-bruising passage across the masked heads of the Sons of Liberty the previous night, laughed his little customary laugh, and said to Wilson, I've kept my promise, you see. I'm throwing my business your way, sooner than I was expecting to. It's very good of you, particularly if you mean to keep it up. Well, I can't tell about that yet, but we'll see. If I find you deserve it, I'll take you under my protection and make your fame and fortune for you. I'll try to deserve it, Tom." A jury was sworn in, then Mr. Allen said, We will detain your honour but a moment with this case. It is not one where any doubt of the fact of the assault can enter in. These gentlemen, the accused, kicked my client at the market-hall last night. They kicked him with violence, with extraordinary violence, with even unprecedented violence, I may say, in so much that he was lifted entirely off his feet and discharged into the midst of the audience. We can prove this by four hundred witnesses. We shall call but three. Mr. Harkness will take the stand. Mr. Harkness, being sworn, testified that he was chairman upon the occasion mentioned, that he was close at hand and saw the defendants in this action, kick the plaintive into the air and saw him descend among the audience. Take the witness, said Allen. Mr. Harkness, said Wilson, you say you saw these gentlemen, my clients, kick the plaintive. Are you sure, and please remember that you are on oath, are you perfectly sure that you saw both of them kick him or only one? Now be careful. A bewildered look began to spread itself over the witness's face. He hesitated, stammered, but got out nothing. His eyes wandered to the twins and fixed themselves there with a vacant gaze. Please answer, Mr. Harkness, you are keeping the court waiting. It is a very simple question. Counsel for the prosecution broke in with impatience. Your Honor, the question is an irrelevant triviality. Necessarily, they both kicked him, for they have but the one pair of legs, and both are responsible for them. Wilson said sarcastically, Will Your Honor permit this new witness to be sworn? He seems to possess knowledge which can be of the utmost value just at this moment. Knowledge which would at once dispose of what every one must see is a very difficult question in this case. Brother Allen, will you take the stand? Go on with your case," said Allen petulantly. The audience laughed and got a warning from the court. Now, Mr. Harkness said Wilson insinuatingly, We shall have to insist upon an answer to that question. I—er—well, of course, I do not absolutely know, but in my opinion—never mind your opinion, sir—answer the question. I—why—I can't answer it. That will do, Mr. Harkness. Stand down. The audience tittered, and the disconfitted witness retired in a state of great embarrassment. Mr. Wakeman took the stand and swore that he saw the twins kick the plaintiff off the platform. The defense took the witness. Mr. Wakeman, you have sworn that you saw these gentlemen kick the plaintiff. Do I understand you to swear that you saw them both do it? Yes, sir—with decision. How do you know that both did it? Because I saw them do it! The audience laughed and got another warning from the court. But by what means do you know that both and not one did it? Well, in the first place, the insult was given to both of them equally, for they were called a pair of scissors. Of course, they would both want to resent it, and so—wait! You are theorizing now? Stick to facts. Council will attend to the arguments. Go on. Well, they both went over there. That I saw. Very good. Go on. And they both kicked him. I swear to it. Mr. Wakeman, was Count Luigi here willing to join the Sons of Liberty last night? Yes, sir, he was. He did join, too, and drank a glass or two of whiskey, like a man. Was his brother willing to join? No, sir, he wasn't. He is a teetotaler, and was elected through a mistake. Was he given a glass of whiskey? Yes, sir, but of course that was another mistake and not intentional. He wouldn't drink it. He set it down. A slight pause, then he added casually and quite simply. The plaintiff reached for it and hogged it. There was a fine outburst of laughter, but as the justice was caught out himself, his reprimand was not very vigorous. Mr. Allen jumped up and exclaimed, I protest against these foolish irrevelancies. What have they to do with the case? Wilson said, calm yourself, brother. It was only an experiment. Now, Mr. Wakeman, if one of these gentlemen chooses to join an association and the other doesn't, and if one of them enjoys whiskey and the other doesn't, but sets it aside and leaves it unprotected, titter from the audience, seems to show that they have independent minds and tastes and preferences, and that one of them is able to approve of a thing at the very moment that the other is heartily disapproving of it. Doesn't it seem so to you? Certainly it does. It's perfectly plain. Now then, it might be, I only say it might be, that one of these brothers wanted to kick the plaintiff last night and that the other didn't want that humiliating punishment inflicted upon him in that public way and before all those people. Isn't that possible? Of course it is. It's more than possible. I don't believe the blonde one would kick anybody. It was the other one that— Silence! shot of the plaintiff's counsel, and went on with an angry sentence which was lost in the wave of laughter that swept the house. That will do, Mr. Wakeman, said Wilson. You may stand down. The third witness was called. He had seen the twins kick the plaintiff. Mr. Wilson took the witness. Mr. Rogers, you say you saw these accused gentlemen kick the plaintiff? Yes, sir. Both of them? Yes, sir. Which of them kicked him first? Why, they— they both kicked him at the same time. Are you perfectly sure of that? Yes, sir. What makes you sure of it? Why, I stood right behind them and saw them do it. How many kicks were delivered? Only one. If two men kick, the result should be two kicks, shouldn't it? Why—why yes, as a rule. Then what do you think went with the other kick? I—well, the fact is I wasn't thinking of two being necessary this time. What do you think now? Well, I—I'm sure I don't quite know what to think, but I reckon that one of them did half of the kick and the other one did the other half. Somebody in the crowd sung out, It's the first sane thing that any of them has said! The audience applauded. The judge said, Silence, or I will clear the court! Mr. Allen looked pleased. But Wilson did not seem disturbed. He said, Mr. Rogers, you have favored us with what you think and what you reckon, but as thinking and reckoning are not evidence, I will now give you a chance to come out with something positive, one way or the other, and shall require you to produce it. I will ask the accused to stand up and repeat the phenomenal kick of last night. Between stood up. Now, Mr. Rogers, please stand behind them. A voice, No! Stand in front! Laughter silenced by the court. Another voice, No! Give Tommy another heist! Laughter sharply rebuked by the court. Now then, Mr. Rogers, two kicks shall be delivered, one after the other, and I give you my word that at least one of the two shall be delivered by one of the twins alone, without the slightest assistance from his brother. Watch sharply, for you have got to render a decision without any ifts and ands in it. Rogers bent himself behind the twins with his palms just above his knees in the modern attitude of the catcher at a baseball match, and riveted his eyes on the pair of legs in front of him. Are you ready, Mr. Rogers? Ready, sir! The kick was launched. Have you got that one classified, Mr. Rogers? Let me study a minute, sir. Take as much time as you please. Let me know when you are ready. For as much as a minute Rogers pondered with all eyes and a breathless interest fastened upon him. Then he gave the word, Ready, sir! Kick! The kick that followed was an exact duplicate of the first one. Now then, Mr. Rogers, one of those kicks was an individual kick, not a mutual one. You will now state positively which was the mutual one. The witness said, with a crustfallen look, I've got to give it up. There ain't any man in the world that could tell tether from which, sir. Do you still assert that last night's kick was a mutual kick? Indeed I don't, sir. That will do, Mr. Rogers. If my brother Allen desires to address the court, Your Honor, very well. But as far as I am concerned, I am ready to let the case be at once delivered into the hands of this intelligent jury without comment. Mr. Justice Robinson had been in office only two months, and in that short time had not had many cases to try, of course. He had no knowledge of laws and courts except what he had picked up since he came into office. He was a sore trouble to the lawyers, for his rulings were pretty eccentric sometimes, and he stood by them with Roman simplicity and fortitude. But the people were well satisfied with him, for they saw that his intentions were always right, that he was entirely impartial, and that he usually made up in good sense what he lacked in technique, so to speak. He now perceived that there was likely to be a miscarriage of justice here, and he rose to the occasion. Wait a moment, gentlemen, he said. It is plain that an assault has been committed, it is plain to anybody, but the way things are going, the guilty will certainly escape conviction. I cannot allow this. Now, but your honor, said Wilson, interrupting him earnestly, but respectfully, you are deciding the case yourself, whereas the jury—never mind the jury, Mr. Wilson—the jury will have a chance when there is a reasonable doubt for them to take hold of, which there isn't so far. There is no doubt whatever that an assault has been committed. The attempt to show that both of the accused committed it has failed. Are they both to escape justice on that account? Not in this court, if I can prevent it. It appears to have been a mistake to bring the charge against them as a corporation. Each should have been charged in his capacity as an individual, and—but your honor, said Wilson, in fairness to my clients, I must insist that inasmuch as the prosecution did not separate the— No wrong will be done, your clients, sir. They will be protected. Also the public and the offended laws. Mr. Allen, you will amend your pleadings and put one of the accused on trial at a time. Wilson broke in. But your honor, this is wholly unprecedented. To imperil an accused person by arbitrarily altering and widening the charge against him in order to compass his conviction when the charge, as originally brought, promises to fail to convict, is a thing unheard of before. Unheard of where? In the courts of this or any other state. The judge said with dignity, I am not acquainted with the customs of other courts, and am not concerned to know what they are. I am responsible for this court, and I cannot conscientiously allow my judgment to be warped, and my judicial liberty hampered by trying to conform to the caprices of other courts. Be they, but your honor, the oldest and highest courts in Europe, this court is not run on the European plan, Mr. Wilson. It is not run on any plan but its own. It has a plan of its own, and that plan is to find justice for both state and accused, no matter what happens to be practice and custom in Europe or anywhere else. Great applause. Silence! It has not been the custom of this court to imitate other courts. It has not been the custom of this court to take shelter behind the decisions of other courts, and we will not begin now. We will do the best we can by the light that God has given us, and while this court continues to have his approval, it will remain indifferent to what other organizations may think of it. Applauds. Gentlemen! I must have order. Quiet yourselves! Mr. Allen, you will now proceed against the prisoners one at a time. Go on with the case. Allen was not at his ease. However, after whispering a moment with his client and with one or two other people, he rose and said, Your Honor, I find it to be reported and believed that the accused are able to act independently in many ways, but that this independence does not extend to their legs, authority over their legs being vested exclusively in the one brother during a specific term of days, and then passing to the other brother for a like-term, and so on, by regular alternation. I could call witnesses who would prove that the accused had revealed to them the existence of this extraordinary fact, and had also made known which of them was in possession of the legs yesterday, and this would, of course, indicate where the guilt of the assault belongs, but, as this would be mere hearsay evidence, these revelations not having been made under oath, never mind about that, Mr. Allen, it may not all be hearsay, we shall see. It may at least help to put us on the right track. Call the witnesses. Then I will call Mr. John Buckstone, who is now present, and I beg that Mrs. Patsy Cooper may be sent for. Take the stand, Mr. Buckstone. Buckstone took the oath, and then testified that on the previous evening the Count Angelo Capello had protested against going to the hall, and had called all present to witness that he was going by compulsion and would not go if he could help himself. Also that the Count Luigi had replied sharply that he would go just the same, and that he, Count Luigi, would see to that himself. Also that upon Count Angelo's complaining about being kept on his legs so long, Count Luigi retorted with apparent surprise, Your legs! I like your impudence. Now we are getting at the kernel of the thing! observed the judge with grave and earnest satisfaction. It looks as if the Count Luigi was in possession of the battery at the time of the assault. Nothing further was elicited from Mr. Buckstone on direct examination. Mr. Wilson took the witness. Mr. Buckstone, about what time was it that that conversation took place? Toward nine yesterday evening, sir. Did you then proceed directly to the hall? Yes, sir. How long did it take you to go there? Well, we walked, and as it was from the extreme edge of the town, and there was no hurry, I judge it took us about twenty minutes, maybe a trifle more. About what hour was the kick delivered? About thirteen minutes and a half to ten. Admiral, you are a pattern witness, Mr. Buckstone. How did you happen to look at your watch at that particular moment? I always do it when I see an assault. It's likely I shall be called as a witness, and it's a good point to have. It would be well if others were as thoughtful. Was anything said between the conversation at my house and the assault upon the detail which we are now examining into? No, sir. If power over the mutual legs was in the possession of one brother at nine and passed into the possession of the other one during the next thirty or forty minutes, do you think you could have detected the change? By no means. That is all, Mr. Buckstone. Mrs. Patsy Cooper was called. The crowd made way for her, and she came smiling and bowing through the narrow human lane, with Betsy Hale as escort and support, smiling and bowing in her wake, the audience breaking into welcoming cheers as the old favourites filed along. The judge did not check this kindly demonstration of homage and affection, but let it run its course unrebuked. The old ladies stopped and shook hands with the twins with a fusion, then gave the judge a friendly nod and bustled into the seats provided for them. They immediately began to deliver a volley of eager questions at the friends around them. What is this thing for? What is that thing for? Who is that young man that's writing at the desk? Why, I declare it's Jack Bunce. I thought he was sick. Which is the jury? Why, is that the jury? Billy Price and Job Turner and Jack Lounsbury and— Well, I never! Now, who would ever have thought? But they were gently called to order at this point, and asked not to talk in court. Their tongues fell silent, but the radiant interest in their faces remained and their gratitude for the blessing of a new sensation and a novel experience still beamed undimmed from their eyes. Aunt Patsy stood up and took the oath, and Mr. Allen explained the point in issue, and asked her to go on now in her own way and throw as much light upon it as she could. She toyed with her reticule a moment or two, as if considering where to begin. Then she said, Well, the way of it is this. They are Luigi's legs a week at a time, and then they are Angelo's, and he can do whatever he wants to with them. You are making a mistake, Aunt Patsy Cooper, said the judge. You shouldn't state that as a fact, because you don't know it to be a fact. What's the reason I don't? said Aunt Patsy, bridling a little. What is the reason that you do know it? The best in the world, because they told me. That isn't a reason. Well, for the land's sake. Betsy Hale, do you hear that? Hear it! I should think so! said Aunt Patsy, rising and facing the court. Why, judge, I was there and heard it myself! Luigi says to Angelo. No, it was Angelo said it. Come, come, Mrs. Hale, pray, sit down, and certainly it's all right. I'm going to sit down presently, but not until I've— But you must sit down. Must? Well, upon my word, if things ain't getting to a pretty pass, when the house broke into laughter, but was promptly brought to order, and meantime Mr. Allen persuaded the old lady to take her seat. Aunt Patsy continued. Yes, they told me that, and I know it's true. They're Luigi's legs this week, but— Ah! they told you that, did they? said the justice, with interest. Well, no, I don't know that they told me, but that's neither here nor there. I know, without that, that at dinner yesterday, Angelo was tired as a dog, and yet Luigi wouldn't lend him the legs to go upstairs and take a nap with. Did he ask for them? Let me see. It seems to me, somehow, that—that— Aunt Patsy, do you remember whether he— Never mind about what Aunt Patsy remembers. She is not a witness. We only want to know what you remember yourself, said the judge. Well, it does seem to me that you are most cantankerously particular about a little thing, Sim Robinson. Why, when I can't remember a thing myself, I always—ah, please go on. Now, how can she, when you keep fussing at her all the time? said Aunt Patsy. Why, with a person pecking at me that way, I should get that fuzzled and fuddled that— She was on her feet again, but Alan coaxed her into her seat once more, while the court squelched the mirth of the house. Then the judge said, Madam, do you know— Do you absolutely know, independently of anything these gentlemen have told you, that the power over their legs passes from the one to the other regularly every week? Regularly? Bless your heart, regularly ain't any name for the exactness of it. All the big cities in Europe used to set the clocks by it. Laughter suppressed by the court. How do you know? That is the question. Please answer it plainly and squarely. Don't you talk to me like that, Sim Robinson? I won't have it. How do I know indeed? How do you know what you know? Because somebody told you. You didn't invent it out of your own head, did you? Why, these twins are the truthfulest people in the world, and I don't think it becomes you to sit up there and throw slurs at them when they haven't been doing anything to you. And they are orphans besides, both of them. All— But Aunt Betsy was up again now, and both old ladies were talking at once, and with all their might. But as the house was weltering in a storm of laughter, and the judge was hammering his desk with an iron paperweight, one could only see them talk, not hear them. At last, when quiet was restored, the court said, Let the ladies retire. But, Your Honor, I have the right, in the interest of my clients, to cross exempt. You'll not need to exercise it, Mr. Wilson. The evidence is thrown out. Throne out? said Aunt Betsy ruffled. And what's it thrown out for, I'd like to know. And so would I, Patsy Cooper. It seems to me that if we can save these poor, persecuted strangers, it is our bounden duty to stand up here and talk for them till— There, there, there, do sit down. It cost some trouble and a good deal of coaxing. But they were got into their seats at last. The trial was soon ended now. The twins themselves became witnesses in their own defense. They established the fact, upon oath, that the leg power passed from one to the other every Saturday night at twelve o'clock sharp. But on cross examination their counsel would not allow them to tell whose week of power the current week was. The judge insisted upon their answering and proposed to compel them. But even the prosecution took fright and came to the rescue then, and helped stay the sturdy jurist's revolutionary hand. So the case had to go to the jury with that important point hanging in the air. They were out an hour and brought in this verdict. We, the jury, do find, one, that an assault was committed as charged. Two, that it was committed by one of the persons accused, he having been seen to do it by several credible witnesses. Three, but that his identity is so merged in his brothers that we have not been able to tell which was him. We cannot convict both, for only one is guilty. We cannot acquit both, for only one is innocent. Our verdict is that justice has been defeated by the dispensation of God and asked to be discharged from further duty. This was read aloud in court and brought out a burst of hearty applause. The old ladies made a spring at the twins to shake and congratulate, but were gently disengaged by Mr. Wilson and softly crowded back into their places. The judge rose in his little tribune, laid aside his silver-bowed spectacles, roached his gray hair up with his fingers, and said with dignity and solemnity, and even with a certain pathos, In all my experience on the bench, I have not seen justice bow her head in shame in this court until this day. You little realize what far-reaching harm has just been wrought here under the fickle forms of law. Imitation is the bane of courts. I thank God that this one is free from the contamination of that vice, and in no long time you will see the fatal work of this hour seized upon by profligate so-called guardians of justice in all the wide circumstance of this planet and perpetuated in their pernicious decisions. I wash my hands of this iniquity. I would have compelled these culprits to expose their guilt, but support failed me where I had most right to expect aid and encouragement, and I was confronted by a law made in the interest of crime, which protects the criminal from testifying against himself. Yet I had precedence of my own whereby I had set aside that law on two different occasions, and thus succeeded in convicting criminals to whose crimes there were no witnesses but themselves. What have you accomplished this day? Do you realize it? You have set adrift, unadmonished in this community, two men endowed with an awful and mysterious gift, a hidden and grisly power for evil, a power by which each in his turn may commit crime after crime of the most heinous character, and no man be able to tell which is the guilty or which the innocent party in any case of them all. Look to your homes, look to your property, look to your lives, for you have need. Prisoners at the bar stand up. Through suppression of evidence, a jury of your—our countrymen—have been obliged to deliver a verdict concerning your case which stinks to heaven with the rankness of its injustice. By its terms you, the guilty one, go free with the innocent. Depart in peace and come no more. The costs devolve upon the outraged plaintive. Another iniquity. The court stands dissolved. Almost everybody crowded forward to overwhelm the twins and their counsel with congratulations, but presently the two old aunties dug the duplicates out and bore them away and triumphed through the harrying crowd, while lots of new friends carried Puddinhead Wilson off Tavenward to feast him and wet down his great and victorious entry into the legal arena. To Wilson, so long familiar with neglect and depreciation, this strange new incense of popularity and admiration was as a fragrance blown from the fields of paradise. A happy man was Wilson. End of Chapter 5 This is Chapter 6 of those Extraordinary Twins. This Libber Box recording is in the public domain. Those Extraordinary Twins by Mark Twain, Chapter 6 The Amazing Duel A deputation came in the evening and conferred upon Wilson the welcome honor of a nomination for mayor, for the village has just been converted into a city by charter. Tom skulks out of challenging the twins. Judge Driscoll thereupon challenges Angelo, accused by Tom of doing the kicking. He declines, but Luigi accepts in his place against Angelo's timid protest. It was late Saturday night, nearing eleven. The judge and his second found the rest of the war-party at the further end of the vacant ground near the haunted house. Puddinhead Wilson advanced to meet them and said anxiously, I must say a word in behalf of my principal's proxy, Count Luigi, to whom you have kindly granted the privilege of fighting my principal's battle for him. It is growing late, and Count Luigi is in great trouble lest midnight shall strike before the finish. It is another testimony, said Howard approvingly. That young man is fine all through. He wishes to save his brother the sorrow of fighting on the Sabbath, and he is right. It is the right and manly feeling, and does him credit. We will make all possible haste. Wilson said, there is also another reason, a consideration, in fact, which deeply concerns Count Luigi himself. These twins have command of their mutual legs turn about. Count Luigi is in command now, but at midnight possession will pass to my principal, Count Angelo, and, well, you can foresee what will happen, he will march straight off the field and carry Luigi with him. Why, sure enough, cried the judge, we have heard something about that extraordinary law of their being already. Nothing very definite it is true, as regards dates and durations of power, but I see it is definite enough as regards tonight. Of course we must give Luigi every chance, omit all the ceremonial possible gentlemen, and place us in position. The seconds at once tossed up a coin, Howard won the choice. He placed the judge sixty feet from the haunted house, and facing it. Wilson placed the twins within fifteen feet of the house, and facing the judge, necessarily. The pistol case was opened, and the long, slim tubes taken out. When the moonlight glinted from them, a shiver went through Angelo. The doctor was a fool, but a thoroughly well-meaning one, with a kind heart and a sincere disposition to oblige, but along with it an absence of tact, which often hurt its effectiveness. He brought his box of lint and bandages, and asked Angelo to feel and see how soft and comfortable they were. Angelo's head fell over against Luigi's in a faint, and precious time was lost in bringing him to, which provoked Luigi into expressing his mind to the doctor with a good deal of vigor and frankness. After Angelo came to, he was still so weak that Luigi was obliged to drink a stiff horn of brandy to brace him up. The seconds now stepped at once to their posts, halfway between the combatants, one of them on each side of the line of fire. Wilson was to count very deliberately one, two, three, fire, stop, and the dualists could bang away at any time they chose during that recitation, but not after the last word. Angelo grew very nervous when he saw Wilson's hand rising slowly into the air as a sign to make ready, and he leaned his head against Luigi's and said, oh, please take me away from here. I can't stay. I know I can't. What in the world are you doing? Straighten up. What's the matter with you? You're in no danger. Nobody's going to shoot at you. Straighten up, I tell you. Angelo obeyed just in time to hear one. Bang! Just one report, and a little tuft of white hair floated slowly to the judge's feet in the moonlight. The judge did not swerve. He still stood erect and motionless, like a statue, with his pistol arm hanging straight down at his side. He was reserving his fire. Two, three, fire! Up came the pistol arm instantly. Angelo dodged with the report. He said, ouch! and fainted again. The doctor examined and bandaged the wound. It was of no consequence, he said, bullet through fleshy part of arm, no bones broken. The gentleman was still able to fight, let the duel proceed. Next time Angelo jumped just as Luigi fired, which disoriented his aim, and caused him to cut a chip out of Howard's ear. The judge took his time again, and when he fired Angelo jumped and got a knuckle skinned. The doctor inspected and dressed the wounds. Angelo now spoke out and said he was content with the satisfaction he had got, and if the judge, but Luigi shut him roughly up, and asked him not to make an ass of himself, adding, and I want you to stop dodging. You take a great deal too prominent a part in this thing, for a person who has got nothing to do with it. You should remember that you are here only by courtesy, and are without official recognition. Officially you are not here at all. Officially you do not even exist. To all intents and purposes you are absent from this place, and you ought for your own modesty's sake to reflect that it cannot become a person who is not present here to be taking this sort of public and indecent prominence in a matter in which he is not in the slightest degree concerned. Now, don't dodge again. The bullets are not for you. They are for me. If I want them dodged, I will attend to it myself. I never saw a person act so." Angelo saw the reasonableness of what his brother had said, and he did try to reform, but it was of no use. Both pistols went off at the same instant, and he jumped once more. He got a sharp scrape along his cheek from the judge's bullet, and so deflected Luigi's aim that his ball went wide and chipped a flake of skin from Puddinhead Wilson's chin. The doctor attended to the wounded. By the terms, the duel was over. But Luigi was entirely out of patience, and begged for one more exchange of shots, insisting that he had had no fair chance on account of his brother's indelicate behaviour. Howard was opposed to granting so unusual a privilege, but the judge took Luigi's part, and added that indeed he himself might fairly be considered entitled to another trial, because although the proxy on the other side was in no way to blame for his, the judge's humiliating, resultless work, the gentleman with whom he was fighting this duel was to blame for it, since, if he had played no advantages, and had held his head still, his proxy would have been disposed of early. He added, Count Luigi's request for another exchange is another proof that he is a brave and chivalrous gentleman, and I beg that the courtesy he asks may be accorded him. I thank you most sincerely for this generosity, Judge Driscoll," said Luigi, with a polite bow, and moving to his place. Then he added to Angelo, Now hold your grip, hold your grip, I tell you, and I'll land him sure. The men stood erect, their pistol arms at their sides, the two seconds stood at their official posts, the doctor stood five paces in Wilson's rear with his instruments and bandages in his hands. The deep stillness, the peaceful moonlight, the motionless figures made an impressive picture, and the impending fatal possibilities augmented this impressiveness to solemnity. Wilson's hand began to rise slowly, slowly, higher, still higher, in another moment, boom! The first stroke of midnight swung up out of the distance. Angelo was off like a deer. Oh, you unspeakable traitor wailed his brother as they went soaring over the fence. The others stood astonished and gazing, and so stood watching that strange spectacle until distance dissolved it and swept it from their view. Then they rubbed their eyes, like people waking out of a dream. Well, I've never seen anything like that before, said the judge. Wilson, I am going to confess now that I wasn't quite able to believe in that leg business and had a suspicion that it was a put-up convenience between those twins, and when Count Angelo fainted, I thought I saw the whole scheme, thought it was pretext number one, and would be followed by others till twelve o'clock should arrive, and Luigi would get off with all the credit of seeming to want to fight and yet not have to fight after all. But I was mistaken. His pluck proved it. He's a brave fellow and did want to fight. There isn't any doubt about that, said Howard, and had it in a grieve tone. But what an unworthy sort of Christian that Angelo is! I hope and believe there are not many like him. It is not right to engage in a duel on the Sabbath. I could not approve of that myself. But to finish one that has been begun, that is a duty. Let the day be what it may. They strolled along, still wondering, still talking. It is a curious circumstance, remarked the surgeon, halting Wilson a moment to paste some more cork plaster on his chin, which had gone to leaking blood again. That in this duel neither of the parties who handled the pistols lost blood, while nearly all the persons present in the mere capacity of guests got hit. I have not heard of such a thing before. Don't you think it unusual? Yes, said the judge. It has struck me as peculiar, peculiar and unfortunate. I was annoyed at it all the time. In the case of Angelo it made no great difference, because he was in a measure concerned, though not officially. But it troubled me to see the seconds compromised, and yet I knew no way to mend the matter. There was no way to mend it, said Howard, whose ear was being readjusted now by the doctor. The code fixes our place, and it would not have been lawful to change it. If we could have stood at your side or behind you or in front of you it, but it would not have been legitimate, and the other parties would have had a just right to complain of our trying to protect ourselves from danger. Infractions of the code are certainly not permissible in any case, whatever. Wilson offered no remarks. It seemed to him that there was very little place here for so much solemnity, but he judged that if a duel where nobody was in danger or got crippled, but the seconds and the outsiders had nothing ridiculous about it for these gentlemen, his pointing out that feature would probably not help them to see it. He invited them in to take a nightcap, and Howard and the judge accepted, but the doctor said he would have to go and see how Angelo's principal wound was getting on. It was now Sunday, and in the afternoon Angelo was to be received into the Baptist Communion by immersion. A doubtful prospect the doctor feared. End of Chapter 6 This is Chapter 7 of those extraordinary twins. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Those Extraordinary Twins by Mark Twain Chapter 7 Luigi Defies Galen When the doctor arrived at Patsy Cooper's house, he found the lights going, and everybody up, and dressed, and in a great state of solicitude and excitement. The twins were stretched on a sofa in the sitting room, and Patsy was fussing at Angelo's arm. Nancy was flying around under her commands. The two young boys were trying to keep out of the way and always getting in it, in order to see and wonder. Rowena stood apart, helpless with apprehension and emotion, and Luigi was growling in unappeasable fury over Angelo's shameful flight. As has been reported before, the doctor was a fool, a kind-hearted and well-meaning one, but with no tact, and as he was by long odds the most learned physician in the town, and was quite well aware of it, and could talk his learning with ease and precision, and liked to show off when he had an audience, he was sometimes tempted into revealing more of a case than was good for the patient. He examined Angelo's wound and was really minded to say nothing for once, but Patsy was so anxious and so pressing that he allowed his caution to be overcome and proceeded to empty himself as follows with scientific relish. Without going too much into detail, madam, for you would probably not understand it anyway, I concede that great care is going to be necessary here, otherwise exutation of the esophagus is nearly sure to ensue, and this will be followed by ossification and extradition of the maxillaris superioris, which must decompose the granular surfaces of the great infusorial ganglionic system, thus obstructing the action of the posterior varialoid arteries and precipitating compound-strangulated cirrhosis of the valvular tissues and ending unavoidably in the dispersion and combustion of the marsupial fluxes and the consequent embrocation of the bicuspid populoredox referendum rotolorum—a miserable silence followed. Ang Patsy's heart sank. The pallor of despair invaded her face. She was not able to speak. Poor Rowena wrung her hands in privacy and silence and said to herself in the bitterness of her young grief, There is no hope. It is plain there is no hope. The good-hearted negro wench Nancy, pale to chocolate, then to orange, then to amber, and thought to herself with yearning sympathy and sorrow, Poor thing! He ain't going to last through to half a dad! Small Henry choked up and turned his head away to hide his rising tears, and his brother Joe said to himself with a sense of loss. The baptizing's busted, that's sure. Luigi was the only person who had any heart to speak. He said a little bit sharply to the doctor. Well, there's nothing to be gained by wasting precious time. Give him a barrel of pills. I'll take them for him. You? asked the doctor. Yes. Did you suppose he was going to take them himself? Why, of course. While it's a mistake, he never took a dose of medicine in his life. He can't. Well, upon my word, it's the most extraordinary thing I ever heard of. Oh! said Aunt Patsy, as pleased as a mother whose child is being admired and wondered out. You'll find that there's more about them, that's wonderful, than there just being made in the image of God like the rest of his creatures. Now, you can depend on that, I tell you. And she wagged her complacent head like one who could reveal marvelous things if she chose. The boy Joe began. Why, ma, they ain't made in the image— You, shut up, and wait till you're asked, Joe. I'll let you know when I want help. Are you looking for something, doctor? The doctor asked for a few sheets of paper and a pen, and said he would write a prescription, which he did. It was one of Galen's. In fact, it was Galen's favorite, and had been slaying people for sixteen thousand years. Galen used it for everything, applied it to everything, said it would remove everything, from warts all the way through to lungs—and it generally did. Galen was still the only medical authority he recognized in Missouri. His practice was the only practice known to the Missouri doctors, and his prescriptions were the only ammunition they carried when they went out for game. By and by Dr. Claypool laid down his pen and read the result of his labors aloud. Carefully and deliberately, for this battery must be constructed on the premises by the family, and mistakes could occur. For he wrote a doctor's hand—the hand which, from the beginning of time, has been so disastrous to the apothecary and so profitable to the undertaker. Take of Afaraboka, Henbane, Corpo Balsamum, each two drams and a half, of Cloves, Opium, Myrrh, Siparis, each two drams, of Opobalsamum, Indian Leaf, Cinnamon, Zetterie, Ginger, Coftus, Coral, Cassia, Euphorbium, Gumtragacanth, Frankincense, Styrax Calamita, Celtic, Nard, Spignol, Hartwort, Mustard, Sagerfrage, Dill, Anus, each one dram, of Xylolos, Rhum Ponticum, Ellipta, Rosacha, Castor, Spike Nard, Galangals, Apoponax, Anacardium, Mastich, Brimstone, Peony, Eringo, Pulp of Dates, Red and White Hermodactyls, Roses, Time, Acorns, Pennyroyal, Gentian, The Bark of the Root of Mandrake, Germander, Valerian, Bishop's Weed, Bayberries, Long and White Pepper, Xylobalsamum, Carnabanium, Macedonian, Parsley Seeds, Lovage, The Seeds of Rue and Sinon, Of each a Dram and a Half, Of pure Gold, pure Silver, Pearls not perforated, The Blata by Santina, The Bone of the Stag's Heart, Of each the Quantity of Fourteen Grains of Wheat, Of Sapphire, Emerald and Jasper Stones, Each one Dram, Of Hazelnuts, Two Drams, Of Pilatory of Spain, Shavings of Ivory, Calamus Adoritus, Each the Quantity of Twenty-Nine Grains of Wheat, Of Honey or Sugar, A sufficient Quantity, Boil Down and Skim Off. There, he said, that will fix the patient, Give his brother a dipperful every three-quarters of an hour, While he survives, muttered Luigi, And see that the room is kept wholesomely hot, And the doors and windows closed tight, Keep Count Angelo nicely covered up with six or seven blankets, And when he is thirsty, Which will be frequently, Moisten a rag in the vapor of the tea kettle, And let his brother suck it, When he is hungry, which will also be frequently, He must not be humoured oftener than every seven or eight hours, Then toast part of a cracker until it begins to brown, And give it to his brother. That is all very well, as far as Angelo is concerned, said Luigi. But what am I to eat? I do not see that there is anything the matter with you, the doctor answered. You may, of course, eat what you please. And also drink what I please, I suppose? Well, certainly at present. When the violent and continuous perspiring has reduced your strength, I shall have to reduce your diet, of course, and also bleed you, But there is no occasion for that yet a while. He turned to Aunt Patsy and said, He must be put to bed, and sat up with, and tended with the greatest care, And not allowed to stir for several days and nights. For one, I am sacredly thankful for that, said Luigi. It postpones the funeral. I am not to be drowned today, anyhow. Angelo said quietly to the doctor, I will cheerfully submit to all your requirements, sir, up to two o'clock this afternoon, and will resume them after three, but cannot be confined to the house during that intermediate hour. Why, may I ask? Because I have entered the Baptist communion, and by appointment am to be baptized in the river at that hour. Oh, insanity! It cannot be allowed! Angelo answered with placid firmness. Nothing shall prevent it, if I am alive. Why, consider, my dear sir, in your condition it might prove fatal. A tender and ecstatic smile beamed from Angelo's eyes, and he broke forth in a tone of joyous fervency. Ah, how blessed it would be to die for such a cause! It would be martyrdom! But your brother, consider your brother, you would be risking his life, too. He risked mine an hour ago, responded Angelo gloomily. Did he consider me? A thought swept through his mind that made him shudder. If I had not run, I might have been killed in a duel on the Sabbath day, and my soul would have been lost. Lost? Oh, don't fret, it wasn't in any danger, said Luigi irritably. They wouldn't waste it for a little thing like that. There's a glass case all ready for it in the heavenly museum, and a pin to stick it up with. Aunt Patsy was shocked and said, Louis! Louis! Don't talk so, dear! Rowena's soft heart was pierced by Luigi's unfeeling words, and she murmured to herself, oh, if I but had the dear privilege of protecting and defending him with my weak voice. But alas! this sweet boon is denied me by the cruel conventions of social intercourse. Get their bed ready, said Aunt Patsy to Nancy, and shut up the windows and doors, and light their candles, and see that you drive all the mosquitoes out of their bar, and make up a good fire in their stove, and carry up some bags of hot ashes to lay to his feet, and a shovel of fire for his head, and a mustard plaster for his neck, and some gum-shoes for his ears. Luigi interrupted with temper, and added to himself, Damn nation! I'm going to be roasted alive, I just know it. Why, Louis, do be quiet. I never saw such a fractious thing. A body would think you didn't care for your brother. I don't, to that extent, Aunt Patsy. I was glad the drowning was postponed a minute ago, but I'm not now. No, that is all gone by. I want to be drowned. You'll bring a judgment on yourself just as sure as you live, if you go on like that. Why, I never heard the beat of it. Now, there, there, you've said enough. Not another word out of you. I won't have it. But, Aunt Patsy, Luigi, didn't you hear what I told you? But, Aunt Patsy, I—why—I'm not going to set my heart and lungs afloat in that pale of sewage which this criminal here has been prescribed. Yes, you are too. You are going to be good, and do everything I tell you, like a deer. And she tapped his cheek affectionately with her finger. Ruina, take the prescription and go in the kitchen and hunt up the things and lay them out for me. I'll sit up with my patient the rest of the night, doctor. I can't trust Nancy. She couldn't make Luigi take the medicine. Of course, you'll drop in again during the day. Have you got any more directions? No, I believe not, Aunt Patsy. If I don't get in earlier, I'll be along by early candlelight, anyway. Meantime, don't allow him to get out of his bed," Angela said with calm determination. I shall be baptized at two o'clock. Nothing but death shall prevent me. The doctor said nothing aloud, but to himself he said, Why, this chap's got a manly side, after all. Physically he's a coward, but morally he's a lion. I'll go and tell the others about this. It will raise him a good deal in their estimation, and the public will follow their lead, of course. Privately Aunt Patsy applauded too, and was proud of Angela's courage in the moral field, as she was of Luigi's in the field of honour. The boy Henry was troubled, but the boy Joe said inaudibly and gratefully, We're all hunky after all, and no postponement on account of the weather.