Have name changed or it would out me.
Some time ago, I lived in an old village in a tranquil part of the Midlands. A farm-worker used to drive a small cab-less tractor through the village. Ocassionally he would call into the pub after work, lean against the bar drink a pint and then go home. He wore dark trousers, white shirt and a dark, coarse jacket. He was no look alike, he was in fact an identical, a doppelganger, for Abraham Lincoln. He had the same beard, piercing eyes and he would lean against the bar, quiet, observing, ancient even.