The Daily clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1866-1888, 1886-03-05

No, won't forgive our pars0n-n0t down %
NY dyiu' day.
He'd oFter 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 taikin's / tell you he
was 70 blame
You see It happened in this way: There was
father an Uncle 81
An mother, an each one wantin' finger in
the pie
Each with name for baby, as ef hadn't no
voice.
But the more they talked an arTied. the more
stuck 10 my choice.
''SemanthyT-this was fathes-'.you'd best
take pattern By mother.
For she named thirteen children 'thout any
such fuss or bother.
As soon rs she diskivercd that family names
was too few,
Why, she jest fell back on the Bible. ss per
fessers air hound 10 do.
"Semanthy''-this was Reuben" most any
one else could see
That, beiu as I'm his father. he'd orter be
named for me-
You say my names oid-fashioued; wen. I'm
old-fashioned too.
Yet 'tvart,,t g long ago. nuther that both Of
Then there WAS Uncle Silas; SeBanthy, !
tell ye what
jest name him silas. III give him that hun
I'll make ont the deed to-morTer-an' then
when I've gone 10 my rest,
ThereH be a tribe q money to help him
feather his nest
But the worst of all was mother. She says, SO
meek an mild:
I'D love % can him lothian, after my oldest
child;
He died ON his second birthday The others
are grOwn-up men.
But lothian is still my baby; he has never
grown since then.
blue could be,
An this boy Of yours, semanthy. Jest brings
him back 10 me-
Well, II warn't no easy matter to keep on say
in No,
An disapp'intiu' every one Poor Rube he
fretted so,
When I told him the name I'd chosen, that he
fairly made me cry:
For d planned to name the darling Augustus
Percival Guy.
Ali that was a name worth hearin', so 'risto-
He might a held mp his head then with the
proudest in the land.
But now Well. 'tisn't no wonder, when
look at that blessed child
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 get his
Christian nifme.
jest as proud as peacock I stood a-waltin
there;
couldn't hardly listen to the rcadin' nor the
prayer
For of half dozen babies mine was the finest
of all;
An they had sech common names, too. But
pride must have a fail.
What will We call him:' says Parson Brown,
bendin' his head 10 hear.
Then ] handed hit of paper up. with the
names writ full an clear.
But Uncle 81, 'steud Of paSsn' it. jest reads II
over slow,
With sech a wond' rim, puzzled face, as eff he
didn't know.
The child was beginnn' to fdgct. an Rube
was gittin' red.
SO / kinder sc0wled ut Uncle ST. and then
shook my head.
"The nameg' says Parson Brown agin; I'm
fcard haven't caught it,"
"Jee-hoshaphat" says Uncle 81. out loud, be-
fore he thought II.
The paTson--he's near-sighted--he couldn't
understand,
Though p'inscd to the paper in Uncle silas
hand.
But that word did the business; an before 1
got my breath
That boy was named Jehoshaphat I felt
Almost like death.
couldn't keep from cryin' as / hurried down
the aisle,
An fairly hated widder Green when see
her kinder smile.
I've never. never called him by that name, an
never will.
An can't forgive old Parson Brown, though
bear him no ll-will.
e. 7. Corbc:t. in Editors Drawer Harper's
Magazine for February.