Twins—aged Nine

My name is Jack (it's really John) and my brother's name is Jerry. We're twins, and so we look alike. O very much! O very!— There's just one person that can quickly tell us from each other, And do it every single time,—and that one is our mother.

We both of us have hair that's red. We hate it for it's curly, And father says we're built four-square—and we'll grow up strong and burly— And all our eyes are just alike, and so are both our noses, So Jerry says God really tried to match us he supposes.

But that is on the outside—inside is where we differ. Jerry sometimes almost cries, but my heart is sort of stiffer; And things that hurt him make me mad—yes, mad as any hatter! And I would rather fight than not—when anything's the matter.

Of course he's just as brave—but then he has a different feeling In almost every way;—he calls taking apples stealing! For when I took one yesterday, from old Dan Tully's orchard Why Jerry said if he had, his conscience would have tortured.

I know I never could like anyone as well as Jerry,— He just about knows everything, and he is so good and merrie, But one thing we agree on, and he's just as glad as I am. That if we must be twins, at least we were not born in Siam.