“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 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 has 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 any thing. 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.”
“Sho, 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! It can’t stir a step without attracting
attention. It’s just grand!”
Henry said,, reproachfully:
“Instead of pitying it, Joe, you talk as if–”
“Talk as if what? I know one thing mighty 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 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 wheelbarrow, 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 right and left like the wings of a
dragon-fly, 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
blond 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 colors 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