-"

"We will," says I. "I'm goin' through them pages in the back of the big
dictionary."

In less'n half an hour there's a knock at the door, and here's a
chauffeur come with a note from Amelia. On the way home she's had
another hunch.

"After all," she writes, "Cedric seems rather too harsh, too rough-shod.
So I have decided on Lucian."

"Huh!" says I. "She's decided, has she? Say, whose tag day is this,
anyway--ours or hers?"

Vee shrugs her shoulders.

"I'm not sure that we should like calling him Lucian; it's so--so----"

"I know," says I, "so perfectly sweet. Say, can't we block Amelia off
somehow? Suppose I send back word that a rich step-uncle has promised to
leave him a ton of coal if we call the baby Ebenezer after him?"

Vee chuckles.

"Oh, no doubt she'll forget all about it by morning," says she.

Seems we'd just begun hearin' from the outside districts, though, or
else they'd been savin' up their ideas for this particular afternoon and
evenin'; for between then and nine o'clock no less'n half a dozen
different parties dropped in, every last one of 'em with a name to
register. And their contributions ranged all the way from Aaron to Xury.
There were two rooters for Woodrow and one for Pershing.

Some of the neighbors were real serious about it. They told us what a
time they'd had namin' some of their children, brought up cases where
families had been busted up over such discussions, and showed us where
their choice couldn't be beat. One merry bunch from the Country Club
thought they was pullin' something mighty humorous when they stopped in
to tell us how they'd held a votin' contest on the subject, and that the
winnin' combination was, Paul Roger.

"After something you read on a cork, eh?" says I. "Much obliged. And I
hope nobody strained his intellect."

"The idea!" says Vee, after they've rolled off. "Voting on such a thing
at a club! Just as if Baby was a battleship, or a--a new moving-picture
place. I think that's perfectly horrid of them."

"It was fresh, all right," says I. "But I expect we got to stand for
such guff until we can give out that we've found a name that suits us.
Lemme tackle that list again. Now, how would Russell do? Russell
Ballard? No; too many _l_'s and _r_'s. Here's Chester. And I expect the
boys would call him Chesty. Then there's Clyde. But there's steamship
line by that name. What about Stanley? Oh, yes; he was an explorer."

I admit I was gettin' desperate ab