Three Yards & A Cloud of Dust

The Morehouse twins, Jacob and James, had been inseparable practically since their birth on a cold November night in a buckboard on their way to the mainland hospital. When apart as infants, they screamed until put together. They shared homemade toys and slept in the same crib, learned to crawl and walk at the same time, their tiny hands clasped tightly. They liked the same foods, the same people, the same adventures and the same old hunting dog. They played games with one mind, thought alike and progressed at the same pace. This unnerved their mother but made their daddy proud - both boys learned to read, shoot, drive, even swim with equal agility when tossed off the wharf at high tide. They were ripe with curiosity and mischief and learned early that being identical was an easy out in times of trouble. They sounded alike, wore matching jeans and shirts, combed their hair the same. Name tags would make things a mite easier, Uncle Willie was heard to say the day one of his cows went missing, Ain't never real clear who done what. The stolen cow was returned after a day or two when Sparrow located her peacefully grazing on a hill above the cove, not fifty yards from the boys' farm but better than five miles from home. Regrettably, the twins had thoroughly doused her with green food coloring, borrowed from Mr. McIntyre's store, and Willie - disgusted and too humiliated to be seen with a green milk cow - had been forced to borrow a horse trailer and bring her home well after dark. Each twin brazenly claimed innocence and since no one could prove which had actually done the deed, the incident passed into history. Both boys were scolded with all the ferocity their daddy could summon, which wasn't, even he admitted, much - the image of a green cow kept interfering with his efforts and it took most of his energy just to keep a straight face.

There followed the matter of the release of an unsuspecting field mouse into a church supper, the greasing of a prize pig on auction day, the sugar and salt substitution at McIntyre's just a day before the bake off for the Sunday School picnic, and the raising of a pair of lace edged knickers in place of the flag at the new post office building which resulted in the simultaneous and very public faint of the Swift sisters, three yards and a cloud of dust from their veranda. Neither Miss Violet or Miss Victoria was ever to utter a single word to the twins again which caused considerable interest in the ownership of the knickers despite the fact that under the most direst of threats from their mother, neither twin would ever divulge their origin. Bloomers on a flagpole! Miss Hilda exclaimed over tea with Nana, How extraordinary!

The twins were redeemed and mostly forgiven when both left to join the Royal Canadian Navy and returned as officers and presumably gentlemen. Several days later, a brown wrapped parcel was left discreetly on the Swift sisters' doorstep - it contained a single pair of white ladies knickers with lace edging and a cursive, monogrammed "V". It was, Miss Violet and Miss Victoria said, the best apology they'd ever had.