Brothers in Affliction by J.S. Fletcher — Read

It used to be said all over the countryside that you might go for a long day's march and search all the towns and villages you came across and then return home without finding such an example of David-and-Jonathan-like affection and devotedness as was seen in the lives of Thomas and Matthew Pogmore. To begin with, they were twins who had lost both parents before they themselves attained to manhood; this sad occurrence seemed to draw them closely together, and at the age of fifty they were still living, bachelors, in the ancient farmhouse wherein they had first seen the light of day. They had never ran after women, young or otherwise, and everybody who knew them -- as everybody did -- said that they would live and die single. Some uncharitable people said they were much too mean to marry, for they had a great reputation for economy and were well known to look at both sides of a sixpence a long time before they parted with it. And yet there were other people who wondered that they never had married, for they were both well-set-up, good-looking, rosy-cheeked, well-preserved men, who had been handsome in early manhood and were still good to look upon. In all respects they were very much alike in appearance -- they were alike, too, in the fact that each possessed a pair of small, sly eyes which always seemed to be on the outlook.

The domestic life of Thomas and Matthew in their old farmhouse was one of quiet and peaceful days. They were well-to-do, and the land they farmed was good. They had a housekeeper, some ten years their senior, who knew all their ways. They lived the most regular of lives. At eight o'clock they breakfasted. From nine until one they were out and about their fields or their folds. At one they dined, glanced at the newspaper, smoked a pipe, drank one glass, and took a forty seconds nap, each in his own easy-chair. When they were thus refreshed they went out into the land again until half-past five, when high tea was set in the parlour. After its consumption -- and they were hearty eaters -- the spirit-case was set out with the cigars, and the peaceful duties of the evening began. Sometimes they read more of the newspapers; sometimes they talked of pigs or turnips or the different qualities of artificial manure. And at precisely ten o'clock, having consumed exactly so much grog and smoked exactly so many pipes or cigars, they retired to bed and slept the sleep of the innocent. It was a harmless life and very soothing.