The Forrest City times., 1890-03-01
WANTED AN IDENTITY.

My name is George Washington Brown. At least 1 think it is, and at one time was sure of it. At present l haven't any convictions. l am not certain whether 1 am myself or some body else whom 1 don't know anything about, but 1 can truthfully assert that it isn't over comfortable to fear that you are stranger to whom you have got to apologize whenever you stub your toe or knock your elbow against a door post.
 To the best of my belief my brief career has not been overstocked with incident, but l will not make this as a positive assertion, because, as l said before, l may be some person of whose history l am entirely ignorant.
 What am about to narrate concerns George Washington Brown, whether he is or some other person, and you may decide for yourself who he really is. If you conclude that l am George Washington Brown. and can so state being unbiased in your judgment and in no way influenced by sympathy, you will set an anxious mind at rest and put an end to harassing doubts that are gradually unsettling once strong intellect
 l was born in New York City, and had wcll-to-do parents, who, when the proper time arrived. had me christencd George Washington Brown, thinking that no name could be more appropriate than that of the father of his country As boy l carried the name with pride. and often in conversation with nN mother said that it would be great thing to have such name in case | should be elected President of the United States when had grown up.
 At this time l had no doubts about being George Washington Brown. Persons called me George and on some occasions George Washington, and I can remember distinctly when broke the parlor looking glass that my father said; .aieorge Washington Brown, I'm going to give you the biggest hiding you ever got in your life The fact that he kept his word to the letter and that the sting of that hiding re- mains with me vet, is one of the strongest arguments in favor of the theory that am really George Washington Brown and not somebody else.
 l was educated in public school. and after l had learned all that could. was taken away and apprentieed Ia a boxmaker named Riggs, for whom l worked faithfully for five years. At first l used to do odd jobs around the place. but when left there was noth- ing about tho boxmsking that l was not familiar with. Mir. Riggs said that was as handy workman AS he had ever employed, If were con vineed that l were really myself, would leave out Mir. Riggs remark on the ground of modesty. but as may be somebody else, il IS only fair 10 make the statement, so that credit may be given where 1t is due.
 earned good wages after left Mir. Riggs, and for three years worked steadily at boxmakiug, only losing two weeks, during which l was laid up in the hospital, having accidentally cut my left leg with n hatchet.. After the wound had healed there was left a very qucer-looking red scar, like an elon- gated triangle, which l still bear
 Tho box factory in which l was em- ployed burned up one night and was thrown out of work. l tried to get another job, but couldn't. so l con- cluded to go West My father was dead, but he had left my mother with an income1arge enough to support her with economy, and then my brother William, who was unmarried. was do- ing well and always helped her out. So one fine morning l kissed m iher and sister Susan good-by and started for the West with strong hopes of accommodating wealth. and without the slightest doubt of my being George Washington Brown.
 l was away from New York three years. l wrote home several times during the first year. but if tho letters were received l cannot say. After that l did not write much, A man is apt 10 be neglectful about writing home. l did well, and opened a bcx factory, going into partnership with Henry r. Cole. who had several thous- and dollars capital. We met with success, and when was ready to come back to New York l SO d out my inter- est to Cole for S6,000, and having another thousand which l had saved. returned 10 New York with 1000 in clear cash.
 My folks lived in Thirty-seventh street, between First and Second ave- nues, and as soon as l got off of the ferryboat that landed me at Debrosses street l started to go thele. On Second avenue, near Thirty-sixth street, saw a box factory with my old employer Riggs's name painted on tho front wall. l stepped in and asked for him, but they told me tha< he was out. I was anxious to get home, so did not wait. As was coming out of the fac tory saw my brother William walk ing up Second avenue. called him by name and he stopped. hurried to him and grabbed both of his hands.
 ..flow are you, old boy" l said, sand how is mother and Sue?'
 He looked st me in surprise and seemed anxious to ge. away. Then l asked him if he didn't know me. He confessed he didn't.
 "Why." l exclaimed, 'sIm your brother George. just arrived in town today"
 ssNo, you ain't," William said. '.George is dead and buried several months ago.n
 '.That's ridiculous I retoried. Cant you see that I'm aliveS"
 .You're alive enough, he answered, ssbut who denies itf My brother George is dead. We buried him over two months ago, and on . Friday week the tombstone was put up."