Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 245, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 October 1910 — NAMING THE BABY [ARTICLE]

NAMING THE BABY

ÜBUALLV IT IS A VERY SIMPLE . AFFAIR. Interest of the Relatives Made This Case More Difficult —Finally Solved by Drawing Name From Hat. Ordinarily there would have been no trouble in naming the baby. It is custom for fathers and mothers to decide years before that some of these days if a little boy blessed their home they’d call him Etheridge, and that if it should be a girl, her name should be Annie May. But in this case it was different, for there were so many people to satisfy. There was grandpa, for illustration. He was getting old, and his feelings might be hurt if he didn’t figure in the name-giving. Besides, he might leave his accumulated wealth to found a home for ex-cow punchers if displeased. And there was Aunt Lucy. Aunt Lucy had a vitriolic tongue for a certainty and had been using it vigorously for 37 years. It would never do to displease her. >, ‘ Father wanted to call the baby 'Sammy; mother wanted to name it Horace; sister Ella wanted it called Butler, after a boy she knew, up in Michigan, and brother, aged ten, wanted to call it Jeffries. It was an awful situation, especially as Uncle Bob was In town and had views of his own concerning names for boy babies. He thought father was nearer right than the others, but preferred the name Gladstone. It was a family conference that was filled with stickers. ,tt took four hours, and though the family sat at the table nobody ate any dinner. Everybody glared at everybody else and spoke little. Then some neighbors came in, and added to the merriment. Each had views. finally Uncle Bob, m desperation, suggested that the names be written on slips of paper and if any two were alike that should be the name. Then he privately took little Alice Perkins, a neighbor’s child, aside and promised her a box of chocolates if she’s write Gladstone on a piece of paper and drop it in the bowl designed for the purpose. Then the names were written and dropped into the bowl, and when the count was taken there were 11 slips of paper and 11 names represented. “Why didn’t you do as I told you?” demanded Uncle Bob Indignantly of the neighbor’s child. “I would, Mister Bob,” she said, “but I couldn’t spell Gladstone. You didn’t tell me. So I wrote Gladys—it’s lots prettier, anyway.”