UNCANNY BONDS

Taranaki Daily News, 11 September 1935, Page 6

UNCANNY BONDS

TWIN SISTERS’ STRANGE CASE. COURAGE AND AFFECTION. In the shadow of the factories and mills of Nottinghamshire towns, ten miles apart, live Hannah and Mary, possibly the oldest twins in Britain, writes Dennis Bardens in the Sunday Chronicle. Let me tell the story of Hannah and it is an epic of its kind. Mary is Mrs. Mary Walters; she lives in a spotless little cottage in Sutton-in-Ash-field. Hannah is Mrs. Hannah Henton; she lives in. a cottage at Bolsover, about ten miles away. Ever since they were born they have been united by an almost uncanny bond of affection and courage. They have shared each other’s joys and sorrows, and after 80 years of struggle have emerged triumphant in their simple security, and content. In build, in demeanour, and in every detail of appearance they are similar. If ever Hannah ventures into Sutton she is. greeted by people who think she is Mary. And Mary has the same experience when she goes to Bolsover. Each of these towns has “adopted” one of the twins, determined that she shall want for nothing. Why? Well, hear Mary’s story. “Well, you see,” she began, “we were born 80 years ago in a little cottage not far from here. The rent was one-and-eightpence .a week, and although that sounds very little it was a struggle to pay it, for father earned only tenpence a day breaking stones on the hill near Mansfield Road, And there were two other children, so that mother had to feed and clothe six of us on three and fcurpence a week. A brave woman! She did it for year after year, never once complaining. So we were taught never to despair, and to believe in God. “Once mother ■ got behind with the rent, and when the bailiffs came to sell up the home there was nowt to sell —an old bed, a deal table and a few poor odds and ends. “When I was courting Mr. Meakin, a miner at Newstead, I played a joke on him by sending my sister to see him in my place, and he didn’t know the difference, we looked that much alike! I married him when I was 26, “At 39 he died, and I went to work for 4s a week to keep my children. ...” “But how on earth did you do it?” I asked. “The Lord has provided,” she said, with sincerity.. “I used to kneel and pray, unbeknown to anyone,’ and somehow there was always food to go round.

“Two years later I married Mr, George Walters, a gas worker, who was earning £1 a week, and I had four children of my own and he had two, so I had eight people to keep on £1 a week. Why, of course, there were nine of us, j:ot eight, for I adopted little Harry.” “You had eight people to keep on £1 a week and you adopted a boy!” “Yes,” she said simply. “He was an orphan, bless him. We went to the funeral, and there he was, poor little mite, rosycheeked and lonely, so I took him, and I loved him and looked after him with the rest of them, and he grew up a lovely boy, thrifty and hard-working. “He was killed in the war, and in his will left everything to me, out of gratitude, he said. And I was able to buy myself a little cottage and never worry about rent any more. I have been happy nearly all my life! And I’m happy now, living on less than £1 a week. I have never handled more than £2 at once all my life. “Hannah and I live apart, but we are always together. When she is ill I know it, and go over immediately and see her. Two weeks ago she wasn’t feeling well, and I felt funny too, so I asked a friend to drive me over to see her and, sure

enough, when we got there she’s feeling poorly and needs me. “When I’m not well it’s just the sama. Hannah can tell for certain and comes over in a hurry to see what’s the matter. Wc don’t need any messages!”