Upon one occasion the brothers quarreled about something, and Chang knocked Eng down, and then tripped and fell on him. Both began to beat each other without mercy. The bystanders interfered, and tried to separate them, but they could not do it, and so allowed them to fight it out. In the end both were carried to the hospital.

Their ancient habit of going always together had its drawbacks when they grew up, and entered upon the luxury of courting. Both fell in love with the same girl. Each tried to steal clandestine interviews with her, but at the critical moment the other would always turn up. By and by Eng saw that Chang had won the girl’s affection; and, from that day, he had to live with the agony of being a witness to all their cooing. But with a supernatural generosity, he succumbed to his fate, and sat from seven every evening until two in the morning, listening to the fond foolishness and kisses of the two lovers. But he sat patiently, and waited, and yawned for two o’clock to come. And he took long walks with the lovers on moonlight evenings – sometimes walking ten miles, even though he was usually suffering from rheumatism. Eng cordially wanted them married, and done with it; but although Chang often asked the important question, the young lady could not gather sufficient courage to answer it while Eng was by. However, once, after having walked some sixteen miles, and sat up till nearly daylight, Eng dropped asleep from exhaustion, and then the question was asked and answered. The lovers were married. All acquainted with the circumstance applauded the noble brother-in-law. His faithfulness was the theme of every conversation. He had stayed by them all through their long courtship; and when at last they were married, he lifted his hands above their heads, and said, “Bless you, my children, I will never desert you!” and he kept his word. Fidelity like this is all too rare in this cold world.

By and by Eng fell in love with his sister-in-law’s sister, and married her, and since that day they have all lived together, night and day.

The sympathy existing between these two brothers is so close that the feelings and the emotions of the one are instantly experienced by the other. When one is sick, the other is sick; when one feels pain, the other feels it; when one is angry, the other’s temper takes fire.

At the same time, Chang belongs to the Good Templars,[6] and is a hard-working, enthusiastic supporter of all temperance reforms, but every now and then Eng gets drunk, and, of course, that makes Chang drunk too. This has been a great sorrow to Chang. Eng always walks alongside of him in temperance processions, drunk as a lord, yet no more hopelessly drunk than his brother, who has not tasted a drop. And so the two begin to yell, and throw mud and bricks at the Good Templars; and, of course, they break up the procession. It would be wrong to punish Chang for what Eng does, and, therefore, the Good Templars accept the situation, and suffer in silence and sorrow.

There is a moral in these solemn warnings. Let us profit by it.

I could say more of an instructive nature about these interesting beings, but let what I have written suffice.

Having forgotten to mention it sooner, I will remark in conclusion that the ages of the Siamese Twins are fifty-one and fifty-three years.

I did not take temporary editorship of an agricultural paper without misgivings. But I was in circumstances that made the salary an object. The regular editor of the paper was going off for a holiday, and I accepted the terms he offered, and took his place.