other and I were ten
years old, and well educated for that age, very studious, very fond of
our books, and well grounded in the German, French, Spanish, and English
languages. Also, we were marvelous musical prodigies--if you will allow
me to say it, it being only the truth.
"Our father survived his misfortunes only a month, our mother soon
followed him, and we were alone in the world. Our parents could have
made themselves comfortable by exhibiting us as a show, and they had many
and large offers; but the thought revolted their pride, and they said
they would starve and die first. But what they wouldn't consent to do,
we had to do without the formality of consent. We were seized for the
debts occasioned by their illness and their funerals, and placed among
the attractions of a cheap museum in Berlin to earn the liquidation
money. It took us two years to get out of that slavery. We traveled all
about Germany, receiving no wages, and not even our keep. We had to be
exhibited for nothing, and beg our bread.
"Well, madam, the rest is not of much consequence. When we escaped from
that slavery at twelve years of age, we were in some respects men.
Experience had taught us some valuable things; among others, how to take
care of ourselves, how to avoid and defeat sharks and sharpers, and how
to conduct our own business for our own profit and without other people's
help. We traveled everywhere--years and years--picking up smatterings
of strange tongues, familiarizing ourselves with strange sights and
strange customs, accumulating an education of a wide and varied and
curious sort. It was a pleasant life. We went to Venice--to London,
Paris, Russia, India, China, Japan--"
At this point Nancy, the slave woman, thrust her head in at the door and
exclaimed:
"Ole Missus, de house is plum' jam full o' people, en dey's jes
a-spi'lin' to see de gen'lemen!" She indicated the twins with a nod of
her head, and tucked it back out of sight again.
It was a proud occasion for the widow, and she promised herself high
satisfaction in showing off her fine foreign birds before her neighbors
and friends--simple folk who had hardly ever seen a foreigner of any
kind, and never one of any distinction or style. Yet her feeling was
moderate indeed when contrasted with Rowena's. Rowena was in the clouds,
she walked on air; this was to be the greatest day, the most romantic
episode in the colorless history of that dull country town. She was to
be familiarly near the source of its glory