Connecticut western news., 1886-02-10
Tho Christening.

The Christening. No. won't forgive our parson-not down to my dyin' day, He'd orter waited minnit; that's what II allers say, But to christen my boy, my baby, with such an orful name Why, where's the use O talldn'a I tell you he was to blame. You see it happened in this ways There was father an Uncle Si An mother, an each one wantin a finger in the pie Each with name for baby, as of hadn't no voice, But the more they talked an' arkied, the more l stuck to my choice. "Semanthyn-thts was father-'syou'd best take pattern by mother, For she named thirteen children thout any such f1zs or bother. A coon as she diskivered that family names was too f&v, RHy, she just 5All back on the Bible, as per- 1esssrs air bound to 6o> '.esmanthy'ethts was Reuben-''most any enc else could see That, bein' as I'm bis father, he orter be named for me You say my names old-fashioned; well, I'm old.fashioned too, Yss tvarnt 90 long ago. nuther, that both of us suited you" Then there was Uncle Silas: "Semanthy, l ear 70 what Just name him Silax. I'll give him that hundred-acre lot m make out the deed to-morrer-an' then when I've gone to my rest, Thaeu be a trife O o'money to help him feather bis nest But tho worst of all was mother. Ehe says % meek an mild: sTd love to cau him Jothsm, after my oldest child; He died on bis second birthday. The others 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 os yours, Semanthy, jest brings him back to me" Wen, 1t warnt no easy matter to keep on nyin, No, An disappintin' every one. Poor Rube he fretted so. When told him the name I'd chosen, that be fairly made me cry. For I'd planned to name the darling Angus tus Percival Guy. Ahs that was a name worth hearin', so risto- cratic an' grandi He might A held up his head then with the rroudest in the land But notc- We'll 'tisnt no wonder, when look at that blessed coild An think of the name he's come to, that can't be reconciled. At lsst coa1ed up Reuben, an Sabbath mornin, came Whsn took my boy to meetin' to git his Christian name. Jest as proud as a peacock stood awaitin' I couldn't hardly listen to the readin' nor the prayer For of half dozen babies mine was tho finest O. all; An they had sech common names, too. Bu pf1Qo must nave 1all. "what win ye call himr' says Parson Brown bendin' his head to hear Then I handed bit of paper up, with the names writ full an clear. But Uncle Si stead of passm' it, jest reads il over slow, With sech wond'rin,' puzzled face, as eff b. didn't know. Tho child was beginnin' to fdget, an Rub, was gittin red, So kinder scowled at Uncle Si, and then shook my head. ''1he namef" says Parson Brown agin; "rn feared haven't caught it !" ''Jse-hoshaphatr' says Uncle Si, out loud before he thought it The parson-he's near sighted-he couldn' understand, Though pinted to the paper in Uucle Sila hand
 But that word did the business; an' before got my breath ..----- That boy was named JEHosHAPHAT. felt g most like death. Ieouldnt keep from crym' as hurried dow the aisle, An fairly hated Widdow Green when SC her kinder smile. I've never, necer called him by that name an never will, Am can't forgive old Parson Brown, thougl bear him no in-win
 E. T. Corbett, Harper's.