, she declared frankly against it.

"Oh, no, Granfa, not in these! Why, it would drive anyone silly to say
it, let alone write it. I wish it was a girl and then she could have
been called Eileen, which is nice."

Trewhella looked anxiously at the subject of the discussion as if he
feared his wife could by some alchemy transmute the sex of the baby.

"I should dearly love to call the lill chap Matthew or Mark or Luke," he
said. "John I don't take no account of. I do call that a poor ornary
unreligious sort of a name for an Evangelist."

"I don't like John at all," said Jenny emphatically.

"Then there's Abraham and Jacob," Zachary continued. "And Abel and
Adam."

"And Ikey and Moses," Jenny scoffingly contributed.

"How not Philip?" suggested old Mrs. Trewhella.

"Or Nicholas?" said May.

"Call him Satan straight away at once!" commented the father bitterly.

"I like a surname sometimes," said Jenny thoughtfully. "I once knew a
boy called Presland. Only we used to call him Bill Hair. Still Eric's
the nicest of all, _I_ think," she added, returning to her first choice.

The argument went on for a long while. At times it would verge
perilously on a dispute, and in the end, in accordance with Jenny's new
development of character, a compromise was affected between Eric and
Adam by the substitution of Frank for both and, lest the advantage
should seem to incline to Jenny's side too far, with Abel as a second
name, where its extravagance would pass unnoticed.

Winter passed away uneventfully except as regards the daily growth of
young Frank. There was no particularly violent storm, nor any wreck
within ten miles of the lonely farmhouse. When the warm days of spring
recurred frequently, it became necessary to find a pleasant place for
idle hours in the sun. Crickabella was too far away for a baby to be
taken there, and Jenny did not like the publicity of the front garden,
exposed equally to Zachary's periodical inspections and Mrs. Trewhella's
grandmotherly limps away from housekeeping. Mr. Champion, when informed
of all this, cordially agreed with Jenny that the front garden was no
place at all under the circumstances and promised to go into the matter
of a secure retreat.

So presently, on one of those lazy mornings when April pauses to survey
her handiwork, assuming in the contemplation of the proud pied earth the
warmth and maturity of midsummer, Granfa beckoned to Jenny and May and
young Frank to follow his