The state chronicle. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1883-1893, 1886-01-21
THE CHRISTENING.

[E. T. Corbett, in Editors Drawer, Harper S
Magazine for February.
No, | won't forgive our parSOn-nOt down
to my dyin day.
He'd orter waited minnit; that's what
I'll alters say.
But to christen my boy, my baby, with
such an orful name
Why, where's the use o talkin. | tell you
he was to blame.
You see it happened in this way: There
was father an Uncle ST
An mother, an each one wantin' finger
in the pie
Each with a name for baby, as eff | hadn t
no voice.
But the more they talked an argied, the
more | stuck to my choice.
''Semanthy' was father you'd best
take pattern by mother,
For she named thirteen Children thout any
fuss or bother.
AS soon as she diskivered that family
names was too few,
Why, she Jest fell back on the Bible, as
professors air bound to do
''Semanthy'- was Reuben-''mos
any one else could see
That, bein' as I'm his father, he'd orter be
named for me.
You say my names old d-fashioned; we'll,
I'm old fashioned too,
Yet 'twarn't so long ago, nuther, that both
of US suited you
Then there was uncle Silas: ''Semanthy,
tell ye what
Jest name him Silas. I'll give him that hun
dred acre lot
I'll make out the deed to morrer- then
when I've gone to my rest,
There'll be trit1e O money to help him
feather his nest"
But the worst of all was mother She says
so meek an mild
I'D love to call him lothian, after my
Oldest child;
He died on his second birthday. The 9th
ers are grown-up men,
But lothian is still my baby; he has never
grown since then.
His hair was so soft an curlin', eyes blue
as blue could be,
An this boy of yours, ,Semanthy, jest bring>
him back to me-"
Well, it warn't no easy matter to keep OF
sayin' No,
An disapp'intin' every one. Poor Rubt
he fretted SO,
When told him the name I'd chosen, thai
he fairly made me cry;
For I'd planned to name the darling Au
gustus Perciyal Guy.
All! that was a name worth hearln, Sc
'ristocratic an grand!
He might "a held up his head then will
the proudest in the land.
But now We'll, 'tisn't no wonder, Wher
| look at that blessed child
An think of the name he's come to, tha
| can't be recOnciled.
At last l coaxed up Reuben, an a Sabbath
mOrnln' came
| When took my boy to meetin' to git hi
Christian name,
Jest as proud as a peacock | stock await
in there;
l couldn't hardly listen to the readin' no
| the prayer.
| For of half dozen babies mine was tn
finest Of all;
| An they had sech common names, too
But pride must have fall.
what will you call him." says Parso1
Brown, bendin' his head to hear,
Then handed bit of paper up, with tn
names writ full an clear
But Uncle ST, stead of passin' it, jest read
it over slow,
With sech wond'rin', puzzled face, as e
he didn't know.
The child was beginnin' to fidget, an Rub
was gttin red,
So | kinder scowled at Uncle ST, and the
l shook my head.
''The name9' Say, larson Brown agair
I'm feard | haven caught it,
'Jee hoshaphatr' says Uncle ST, out loud
before he thought it.
The parson--he's near sighted he couldn
understand,
!. Though l p'inted to the paper in Uncl
8 Silas' hand
But that word did the business; an befo1
ler l got my breath
That boy was named JEHOsHAPHAT. | fe
@ @er' almost like death.
90 couldn' keep from cryn' as | hurrie
down the aisle,
m ,n n fairly hated Widder Green when l Sc
'ue ue her kinder smile.
NY; e never, never called him by that nan
.eo an never will
can't forgive old Parson Brow
'cA- though bear him no ill-will.