"I'm not so certain about that. The one on the left--I mean the one on it's 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 t'other from which by their names, yet awhile. But it's the right-hand one--the blond 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 deary 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 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."
