Clarence is the name. I know, you don t have to say it. Clarence is rather a stuffy name for a colt playing and splashing in the diamond sprayed creek bottoms and chasing crickets in the meadow with his pet Bobby. Everybody will make fun of him with that sissy name for a kid with knickers ruffled below the knees, he had argued, as he tousled my mane. Clarence is the name for someone that wears a lace shirt and fancy French cravat.
Clarence is a boring name.
It s a tiresome name. It s a sissy name. But arguing did little good. Bobby s maiden aunt Clara had presented me to Bobby on his twelfth birthday, and had bestowed the name Clarence on me. Clarence it was to be.