Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1886-02-03
The Christening.


No, I won't forgive our parson-not' down II
my dyin' day,
He'd orter waited minnit that's what +
alters say,
But to christen my boy my baby, with sucf
an orful name
Why, where's the use O talkin'2 tell you hi
was to blame.
You see it happened in this way: There wa
father an Uncle 81
An mother an each one wantin' finger il
the pic
Each with a name for baby, as eff / hadn't nc
voice,
But the more they talked an argied, the more
/ stuck to my choice.
"Semanthyn-this was father-"you'd bes
take pattern by mother,
For she named thirteen children 'thout any
such fuss or bother,
As soon as she diskivered that family names
was too few,
fesscrs air bound to do.
"Scmanthy"-this was Rcuben-"most any
one else could sec
That, bein as I'm his father, he orter b'
named for me.
You say my names old-fashioned; well, 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
Just name him Silas. I'll give him thai
hundrcd-acre lot
ri make out the deed to-morrer-an' ther
when I've gone to my rest,
Therell be trille o money to help hin
feather his nest
But the worst of all was mother. She says
50 meek an mild;
"Id love to call him lothian, after my oldest
child
He died ON his second birthday. The other:
are grown-up men,
But Jotham is still my baby! he has never
grown since then.
His hair was soft an curlin', eyes blue as blue
could be,
An this boy of yours Semanthy, jest brings
him back TO me-
Well, it warn't no easy matter to keep OF
sayin, No,
An disapp'intm' every one. Poor Rube ht
fretted so.
When told him the name I'd chosen, that he
fairly made me cry.
For Id planned to name the darling Angus
tus Percival Guy.
All that was name worth hcarin', so 'risto
cratic an grand
He might "A held up his head then with tht
proudest in the land.
But norc-- Well 'tisn't no wonder, when
look at that blessed COLD
An think of the name he's come to, that
can't be reconciled.
At last coaxed up Reuben, an Sabbath
mornin came
When | took my boy to meetin' to git hi
Christian name.
Jest as proud as u peacock I stood awaitin
there;
| couldn't hardly listen to the readin' nor tn,
prayer.
For of half dozen babies mine was the fines
of all;
An they had sech common names, too Bu
pride must have q fall.
"What will ye call himN says Parson Brown
bcndin' his head to hear.
Then handed bit Of paper up, with tn,
names writ full an clear.
But Uncle ST. stead of pasSn' it, jest reads i
over slow,
With sech wond'rin, puzzled face, as ef h,
didn't know.
The child was bc5imin' to fldget, an RUB
was gittin red,
So | kinder scowled at Uncle 81, and then
shook my head
"The name:' says Parson Brown agin; "l'n
feared haven't caught it,"
"Jee-hoshaphat" says Uncle 81, out loud
before lie thought it,
The parSon-hes near sighted-he couldn'
understand,
Though p'inted to the paper in Uucle Silas
hand.
But that word did the business; an before
gotmy breath
That hoy was named JEBosHAPHAT. felt a
most like death.
I couldn't keep from cryin' as hurried dow
the aisle
An fairly hated Widow Green when SCI
her kinder smile.
I've never, nccer called him by that name
an never will,
An can't forgive old Parson Brown, though
| bear him no ill-wil.
E \. CorbcH, Harper's