TWO PEAS. 



II. W. DRESSER. 



They were twin-like in appearance, 

 twin-like in tastes, and twin-like in intel- 

 lectual capacity. This was unfortunate. 

 Had the brothers, Jack and Harvey Pren- 

 tiss, been nothing more than twins, scores 

 of embarrassing mistakes would never have 

 been made; but, alas, they were as alike as 

 2 peas. Indeed, some one dubbed them 

 " The Two Peas," and the name clung to 

 them. 



The friends of the twins were in a con- 

 tinuous state of confusion. The greatest 

 trial that a Newberry hostess had to face 

 was that of introducing the twins to a 

 guest. After the introduction, the guest 

 invariably went through a similar ordeal. 



Dorothy Trumbull could distinguish 

 them apart; but she had an ordeal of a 

 more serious nature. The young men hav- 

 ing twin tastes, saw the same amiable qual- 

 ities in Dorothy. Other people undoubt- 

 edly recognized these qualities; but the 

 brothers thought her adorable because she 

 possessed them. Each regarded the other 

 as a man whose thoughts and feelings per- 

 fectly coincided with his own; and, as a 

 consequence, each was aware the other 

 loved Dorothy. There was plenty of good- 

 natured chaff between the brothers, regard- 

 ing the matter in which they were both 

 deeply interested. 



" Say, Jack," Harvey would exclaim, in 

 an unmistakable tone of triumph, " Dor- 

 othy gave me a rose last night, when I said 

 good by to her." 



To which Jack replied she probably mis- 

 took his brother for himself. Then there 

 would be a laughing discussion of the ques- 

 tion of Dorothy's preference. Each would 

 enumerate the favors she had shown him, 

 and each claim to be the more deserving 

 of her affection. 



They continually plotted against each 

 other, in a harmless way, and on this ac- 

 count Jack said nothing of his intention to 

 take Dorothy to the Fairchilds' dance. 

 Harvey called on the young lady the even- 

 ing after Jack, and begged to be her escort. 

 Then he discovered his brother had the ad- 

 vantage of him. Disappointment ignited a 

 little spark of mischievous jealousy, which 

 Jack's happiness fanned into flame. 



" I can stand it," thought Harvey. " Jack 

 may take her to the dance, but I'll have 

 some fun out of it." 



Then he evolved a scheme that caused 

 him to chuckle with glee. Had Jack heard 

 that chuckle, he would have trembled. 



" Do you mean to say you're not going 

 to the Fairchilds' dance?" asked Jack, 

 when Harvey said he had sent his regrets. 



" Why, man, you'll miss half the fun of 

 your life! " 



When the evening of the reception ar- 

 rived, Jack was surprised to find Harvey 

 arraying himself in evening dress. 



" What are you dressing for? " 



" Going to call at the Fullers," returned 

 Harvey, glancing complacently at his re- 

 flection in a mirror. As he turned to go 

 down stairs, he added, " Joy to you at the 

 dance. Tell Mrs. Fairchild I'm awfully 

 sorry I can't come." 



Harvey, on leaving the house, walked 

 rapidly to a livery stable, where he found 

 a carriage awaiting him. The proprietor, 

 with whom arrangements had been made, 

 smiled knowingly as Harvey exchanged 

 his overcoat for a threadbare coat of livery. 

 This done, he stowed his own under the 

 coachman's seat, mounted the box, flour- 

 ished the whip, and drove into the street. 

 In a few minutes he stopped before his own 

 house. 



Jack Prentiss appeared and, scarcely 

 glancing at the man, told him to drive to 

 Colonel Trumbull's, in Hooker Street. At 

 the Colonel's, Jack rang the bell and van- 

 ished within. Then the door opened again, 

 and 2 figures hurried down to the carriage. 

 One of them was bundled from head to 

 foot in an opera cloak; the other little 

 imagined the coachman to be head over 

 heels in love with his dainty companion. 

 After seeing Dorothy safe within the car- 

 riage, he gave the order: 



"Drive to Mrs. Fairchild's. It's about 

 a mile out, on the turnpike; large, colonial 

 house on the left side of the road." Draw- 

 ing nearer, he lowered his voice. " Here's 

 a quarter for you, and a cigar. Drive 

 slowly, all the way." 



Jack failed to notice, in his own embar- 

 rassment, the strange effect of his words. 

 The driver shook as one afflicted with 

 ague. He took the coin and the cigar, and 

 muttered a hoarse " Thanks," as Jack 

 slammed the door. Then he did some- 

 thing a well-trained coachman never does. 

 He burst into a fit of laughter, none the 

 less hearty because it was subdued. He 

 bent and swayed and shook in the exuber- 

 ance of his merriment. It was fully a min- 

 ute before he gained sufficient control of 

 himself to say " Git up " to his team. As 

 the carriage rumbled along, Harvey began 

 to wonder whether the joke was not on 

 himself, after all; but his innings were to 

 come. He laughed again in the ecstasy of 

 anticipation. 



On reaching the outskirts of the town, 

 Harvey drove into the turnpike, followed 



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