most rueful tone imaginable, "I am not thinking in the least of the money, nor of the farm, but of the probability of our child's having a preposterous name."
Mrs. Webb fairly laughed aloud. "Is that all?" said she. "Why, my dear Hassy, I would not care if she were called Nebuchadnezzar—provided she were a boy—fret about a name! Why, cannot we make a pleasant abbreviation of it in case it be an ugly one? But my uncle is an old fashioned man, and I apprehend nothing worse than Jerusha, or Kezia, or Margaret."
"I hope it may be so, Winny, but I fear that you are too sanguine; I dread to hear the name—nothing can compensate me if the name be a ridiculous one."
After breakfast the next morning a note was brought from Mr. Banks, bidding them farewell, saying that urgent business called him immediately to Jamaica. He said that he had dwelt with much anxiety on the subject of selecting a suitable name for their baby, and after discarding a number of them he had at length pitched on one that he thought would suit all parties; that it was a little of the longest, to be sure, but then this fault was made up in its dignity. The child, he said, should be called Glumdalclitch.
Any one would have pitied the poor little couple if they could have seen the consternation which this billet produced.
"I never will consent to this," said Mr. Webb, as soon as his anger and shame would allow him to speak—"never shall my child reproach me with fastening such a ridiculous name upon her. I will write this instant to your uncle and refuse to accept any of his gifts on such disgraceful conditions. No, no, my dear Winny, we are—I, at least, am mark enough for ridicule, but this is a thing which I have
