Josephine Myrtle Corbin was born with a rare birth defect called polymelia, meaning born with extra limbs, in her case, she had 4 legs, 2 normal ones and 2 smaller ones that grew from her hips. But there was more to it. She also had 2 sets of reproductive organs and 2 pelvises. Because of this rare occurrence, she’s probably one of the few people in history considered wonders. Let’s delve into Myrtle’s story and discover her exceptional life milestones.Myrtle was considered a rare and remarkable case of human development.
Josephine Myrtle Corbin, an American sideshow performer, came into the world in 1868 as a remarkable medical rarity. Affected by a condition known as dipygus, she possessed two lower bodies from the waist down. This unusual phenomenon occurred due to her body axis splitting during development, resulting in two separate pelvises side by side. Remarkably, her smaller inner legs were paired with one of her outer legs. While Myrtle could move her inner legs, but they were too weak to walk on.
Born in Tennessee to her parents, William and Nancy, Myrtle’s arrival brought both wonder and concern. At 25, her father, William, and 34-year-old mother, Nancy, welcomed the unique little Myrtle into their lives. Medical professionals noted that if Myrtle had been delivered breech, with her bottom first, it could have been potentially fatal for both her and her mother. Thankfully, Myrtle’s early days were promising, as she displayed signs of strength, weighing 10 lb (4.5kg) just 3 weeks after her birth.
Myrtle’s father was facing financial hardship and had to think of ways to support his growing family.
© Charles Eisenmann (1855-1927) / Wikimedia Commons, © Public domain, © Palette.fm
At the age of 5 weeks, people had the opportunity to visit William Corbin and marvel at his four-legged daughter for a small fee. As the years passed, Myrtle grew up accustomed to the constant stares and astonishment from those who encountered her rare condition. Her inner legs never fully developed, her right foot was clubbed, and both of the smaller legs had 3 toes on each foot.
Over the following decade, William took Myrtle on a journey across the country, where she participated in fairs, sideshows, and dime museums. By the time she turned 14, she had achieved success and managed to secure a lucrative contract paying her an unusually high salary of $250 per week.
The four-legged girl, Myrtle, had a younger sister named Ann, who fortunately did not suffer from any birth defects.
Myrtle married when she was 18 and later became a mother.
© James R. Applegate (1849–1910), Philadelphia / Wikimedia Commons, © Public Domain, © Palette.fm
As Myrtle entered adulthood, she grew weary of the constant attention she received due to her condition. At 18, she decided to marry James Bicknell, a medical student, after which she retired from her performing career. Interestingly, her fame had inspired others to attempt to fake her unique deformity, but all of these impostors were eventually exposed as frauds.
A year into their marriage, Myrtle experienced troubling symptoms like fever, nausea, headaches, and side pains. Concerned, she sought medical attention, and to her disbelief, the doctor revealed that she was pregnant on her left side. Myrtle skeptically responded, saying, “If it had been on my right side, I would come nearer believing you are correct.” The pregnancy proved challenging for her health, and doctors even advised her to consider an abortion due to the severity of her illness. However, Myrtle managed to recover swiftly.
Over the following years, James and Myrtle welcomed seven more children into their family. Tragically, only 5 of them survived infancy, 4 daughters and a son.
© Unknown author / Wikimedia Commons, © Public Domain
The family lived a quiet life until their 5 children reached adulthood. Then Myrtle re-entered the show business. In 1909, when Myrtle was 41, she was a part of Huber’s Museum exhibit, appearing as The Four-Legged Girl from Cleburne, Texas. She often dressed her 4 legs in matching shoes and socks, to the audience’s delight. She was making $450 per week at the time.
In 1928, Myrtle developed a skin infection on her right leg, and the doctor diagnosed her with erysipelas or a strep infection. A week later, on May 6th, 1928, Myrtle passed away. Her casket was covered in concrete, and family members kept watch until it was fully cured to prevent grave robbers from stealing her remains.
Almost a century later, Josephine Myrtle Corbin Bicknell continues to inspire others by proving that even in the 19th century, a woman could forge a successful career and become a mother all at once.
My Neighbors Pointed a Camera at My Garden, So I Taught Them a Brutal Lesson Without Taking It to Court
When my new neighbors installed a camera aimed at my backyard, I knew I had to take action. What started as a simple plan to teach them a lesson about privacy spiraled into a wild performance that caught the attention of the local police — with consequences I never could have predicted.
I never thought I’d become an amateur actor just to teach my nosy neighbors a lesson, but life has a way of surprising you.
It all started when Carla and Frank moved in next door. They seemed nice enough at first, if a bit… off.
“Welcome to the neighborhood,” I said, offering them a basket of tomatoes from my garden. “I’m Zoe.”
Carla’s eyes darted around nervously. “Thank you. We’re very… security-conscious. You understand, right?”
I didn’t, but I nodded anyway. Little did I know what that would mean for me.
A week later, I returned from visiting my mom to find something shocking in my backyard. As I lounged in my swimsuit, tending to my beloved tomatoes, I noticed a small black object under the eaves of their house.
“Is that a camera?” I muttered, squinting at it. My blood ran cold as I realized it was pointed directly at my yard.
I marched over to their house, still in my swimsuit, and pounded on the door. Frank answered, looking annoyed.
“Why is there a camera pointed at my yard?” I demanded.
He shrugged. “It’s for security. We need to make sure no one climbs the fence.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I sputtered. “You’re invading my privacy!”
Carla appeared behind him. “We have a right to protect our property,” she said coldly.
I left, fuming. I could have taken them to court, but who has the time or money for that? No, I needed a different approach.
That’s when I called my friends.
“Samantha, I need your help,” I said. “How do you feel about a little… performance art?”
She laughed. “I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”
I outlined my plan, and soon we had a whole crew on board. Miguel, our resident special effects guru, and Harriet, who never met a costume she didn’t like.
As we planned, I wondered if I was going too far. “Guys, are we sure about this?” I asked during our final meeting.
Samantha put her hand on my shoulder. “Zoe, they’ve been spying on you for weeks. They need to learn a lesson.”
Miguel nodded. “Plus, it’ll be fun! When was the last time we did something this crazy?”
Harriet grinned. “I’ve already started on the costumes. You can’t back out now!”
Their enthusiasm was contagious, and I felt my doubts melting away. “Alright, let’s do this.”
The next Saturday, we gathered in my backyard, decked out in the most ridiculous outfits imaginable. I wore a neon green wig and a tutu over a scuba suit.
“Ready for the garden party of the century?” I grinned.
Samantha adjusted her alien mask. “Let’s give those creeps a show they’ll never forget.”
We started with normal party activities — if you can call anything normal when you’re dressed like escapees from a circus. We danced, played games, and made sure to stay in view of the camera.
“Hey, Zoe!” Miguel called out, his pirate hat askew. “How’s your mom doing?”
I smiled, remembering my recent visit. “She’s good. Still trying to set me up with her friend’s son.”
Harriet laughed, her Red Riding Hood cape swishing. “Classic mom move. Did you tell her about the camera situation?”
I shook my head. “Nah, didn’t want to worry her. She’d probably march over here herself and give them a piece of her mind.”
“Honestly,” Samantha chimed in, “that might have been entertaining to watch.”
We all laughed, imagining my feisty mom confronting Carla and Frank. But then it was time for the main event.
“Oh no!” I shrieked, pointing at Samantha. “She’s been stabbed!”
Miguel swiftly brandished a rubber knife covered in ketchup. “Arrr, she had it coming!”
Samantha collapsed dramatically, ketchup “blood” pooling around her. We all started arguing and running around in panic.
“Should we call the police?” Harriet yelled, cape flapping as she hopped around.
“No, we have to hide the body!” I shouted back.
Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine. The neighbor’s curtain twitched. Had someone seen us? The eerie silence that followed was broken only by our ragged breathing.
We froze, eyes darting from one to another. The weight of our imaginary crime felt all too real in that moment. A dog barked in the distance, making us all jump.
Time seemed to stretch, each second an eternity as we waited, unsure of what would happen next.
Miguel’s hand trembled as he lowered the ketchup-stained knife. Samantha, still sprawled on the ground, barely dared to breathe. The air grew thick with tension, pressing down on us like a physical force.
I tried to swallow, but my mouth had gone dry. My mind raced, conjuring up ridiculous scenarios of how we’d explain this scene to anyone who might have witnessed it. Would they believe it was just a game? Or would our silly prank spiral into something far more serious?
A car door slammed somewhere down the street. We all flinched in unison, our nerves stretched to the breaking point. The sound of footsteps seemed to echo in the stillness, growing louder with each passing moment. Had someone called the authorities?
Just then, we heard sirens in the distance. “Showtime,” I whispered. “Everyone inside, quick!”
We dragged Samantha in, cleaned up the ketchup, and changed into normal clothes in record time. By the time the police knocked on my door, we were sitting around the dining table, looking perfectly innocent.
“Is everything alright here?” the officer asked, looking confused.
I put on my best concerned-citizen face. “Of course, officer. Is something wrong?”
She explained that they received a report of a violent crime at this address. I feigned shock, then allowed “realization” to dawn on my face.
“Oh! We were just doing some improv acting in the backyard,” I said. “It must have looked pretty realistic, huh?”
The officer frowned. “How did anyone see into your backyard? Those fences are pretty high.”
I sighed dramatically. “Well, officer, that’s the real problem here. My neighbors have a camera pointed at my yard. They’ve been recording me without my consent.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Is that so? I think we need to have a chat with your neighbors.”
We watched from my window as the police went next door. Carla and Frank looked panicked as they were questioned.
An hour later, the officer returned. “Ma’am, I’m afraid your neighbors have been engaging in some illegal surveillance. We’ve confiscated their equipment and they’ll be facing charges. Would you be willing to make a statement?”
I tried to look surprised. “That’s terrible! I had no idea it was so extensive. But, of course, I’ll make a statement, and testify in court if it comes to that.”
After the police left, my friends and I celebrated our victory.
“I can’t believe it worked!” Samantha laughed.
Miguel raised his glass. “To Zoe, master of revenge!”
I grinned, but something was nagging at me. “Do you think we went too far?”
Harriet shook her head. “They invaded your privacy. They got what they deserved.”
The next day, I was back in my garden, enjoying the sunshine without worrying about prying eyes. As I tended to my tomatoes, I saw Carla and Frank leaving their house, suitcases in hand.
Part of me felt guilty, but then I remembered all those recordings they had of me. No, they’d made their choice. I just helped them face the consequences.
As I picked a ripe tomato, I smiled to myself. Sometimes, the best way to deal with nosy neighbors isn’t through the courts — it’s through a little creative problem-solving.
And hey, if nothing else, at least I now know I have a future in community theater if gardening doesn’t work out.
A week later, I was having coffee with Samantha when she asked, “So, any news about Carla and Frank?”
I shook my head. “Not really. I saw them leave, and I haven’t heard from the cops yet. Maybe they decided not to press charges after all. Can’t say I miss them, though.”
Samantha smirked. “I bet they’d think twice before setting up cameras now.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, then paused. “You know, part of me wonders if we should feel bad. We did kinda turn their lives upside down.”
Samantha raised an eyebrow. “Zoe, they were the ones breaking the law. All we did was expose them.”
I nodded, but the guilt lingered. “I know, I know. It’s just… I keep thinking about how scared they looked when the police showed up.”
“Hey,” Samantha said, leaning forward, “remember how violated you felt when you saw that camera? How angry you were? They did that to you for weeks.”
I sighed. “You’re right. I guess I’m just not used to being the ‘bad guy’.”
She laughed. “Trust me, you’re not the bad guy here. You’re the hero who stood up for herself.”
Later that day, as I watered my tomatoes, I saw a moving truck pull up to Carla and Frank’s house. A young couple got out, looking excited.
I watched as they unloaded boxes, chatting and laughing. Part of me wanted to go over and introduce myself, maybe warn them about the previous owners. But another part of me just wanted to move on.
As I turned back to my garden, I made a decision. I’d give these new neighbors a chance — no preconceptions, no suspicions. But I’d also keep my eyes open. After all, you never know when you might need to throw another garden party.
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