| In form and feature, face and limb, I grew so like my brother, That folks got taking me for him, And each for one another. It puzzled all our kith and kin, It reach'd an awful pitch; For one of us was born a twin, Yet not a soul knew which. One day (to make the matter worse), Before our names were fix'd, As we were being wash'd by nurse We got completely mix'd; And thus, you see, by Fate's decree, (Or rather nurse's whim), My brother John got christen'd me, And I got christen'd him. This fatal likeness even dogg'd My footsteps when at school, And I was always getting flogg'd, For John turned out a fool. I put this question hopelessly To every one I knew— What would you do, if you were me, To prove that you were you? Our close resemblance turn'd the tide Of my domestic life; For somehow my intended bride Became my brother's wife. In short, year after year the same Absurd mistakes went on; And when I died—the neighbors came And buried brother John! Henry S. Leigh. |
