"THE LITTLE TWIN BRETHREN."
The name of the little hucksters across the way was Dudgeon. As to age,
they were on the verge of thirty--Tommy having entered the world a few
minutes previous to John. They were so much alike that it was difficult to
distinguish them when apart. John was just a shade lighter in complexion
than Tommy, and Tommy overtopped his brother by something like an inch.
The twins were so small as to seem insignificant; but their meek
amiability was an efficient set off against their physical deficiencies.
If there was any measure of self-assertiveness between them, it belonged
chiefly to Tommy. Though both the little men were kind to Marian, Tommy
was her especial friend; and it was he who had watched her as she ran
away. The twins were both bachelors; though John had kept company for
several years with a young woman of exemplary patience. Tommy, who was
a sincere Christian, was a member of the church to which "Cobbler" Horn
belonged. John occasionally attended the services at the same place, but
could not be persuaded to join the church.
The close resemblance between the brothers was the cause of many ludicrous
mistakes. In their boyhood, they had frequently been blamed for each
other's faults and misdeeds; and it was characteristic of Tommy that he
had quietly suffered more than one caning which his brother ought to have
received. But, when it had been proposed to administer to him a dose of
medicine which had been prescribed for John, he had quietly protested and
explained the mistake.
When the twins grew up, similar blunders continued to occur; and the
little men had frequent opportunities of unlawfully profiting by the
errors in which their close resemblance to each other often involved their
friends. But, to the credit of these worthy little men be it said, they
conscientiously declined to avail themselves of the opportunities of
illegitimate benefit thus thrown in their way.
It was a curious sight to see these two queer little men standing,
sitting, or walking, side by side. The minister of their chapel would
often speak of the first occasion on which he had seen John Dudgeon. It
was one Sunday evening, shortly after he had assumed the pastorate of
the church. The service had just commenced, and the eye of the minister
happened to rest, for a moment, on the humble figure of Tommy Dudgeon,
who was, as usual, in his place. The minister had already made the
acquaintance of Tommy, but of the existence of John he was not yet aware.
What, then, was his astonishment, the next moment, to see another Tommy
Dudgeon, as it seemed, come in and take his place beside the one already
in the pew! For a breathing space the new pastor imagined himself the
victim of an optical illusion; and then he rubbed his eyes, and concluded
that Tommy Dudgeon had a twin brother, and that this was he.
It was not surprising that these two peculiar little men should have
excited the amusement of those to whom they were known. Their amazing and
almost indistinguishable resemblance to each other, and the consequent
unconscious mutual mimicry of tone and gesture which prevailed between
them, while they were a source of frequent perplexity, were also
irresistibly provocative of mirth. What wonder that those who saw the
little hucksters for the first time should have felt strongly inclined to
regard them in a comic light; or that the mere mention of their names
should have unfailingly brought a smile to the faces of those to whom
their peculiarities were known!
The boys of the Grammar School, which was situated in a neighbouring
street, had, from time immemorial, furnished Tommy and John Dudgeon with
an epithet accommodated from classic lore, and dubbed them, "the _little_
Twin Brethren."