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.