A Dutchman lost his boy in Cincinnati.  He tells his story in the following language:

“I hunted all day for my boy, and about night I found him sitting in the mud by the canal.  He was muddy all over.  When I found my boy, he cried and I cried.  I hugged my boy and he hugged me; I kissed my boy and he kissed me;  I took my boy over to the canal and washed his face and he was not my boy.

The moral?  You can’t depend upon your feelings.