The Battle Over Naming Baby Brown

I think," said the fond mother, "that as the baby’s last name is Brown, it would be better to give him some first name less common than Henry? There are thirteen columns of Henry Browns in the dictionary." "Thirteen, darling," said Mr. Brown; "I counted them yesterday. What we want for the baby is a unique first name that will be distinct and peculiar, that will make it possible always to identify him. Isn’t that it, dearest?" "Certainly." "Well, I have prepared a list from which we can pick. Suppose we skim over it? Let’s begin with the twelve tribes of Israel. Are there any among them that you like?" "I think not." "How would Gad do? Gad Brown! That would be novel, anyhow." "But too startling, perhaps?" "Possibly. The others are all rather common. Does Ivanhoe strike you? I rather like Ivanhoe Brown. Or, if we wanted to give him a middle name we could call him Ivanhoe Alcibiades Brown." "It’s too long; and besides I’m not certain that I could always spell Alcibiades correctly in marking his underclothing." "Plutarch, then?" "Mr. Brown, that’s outrageous!" "Outrageous, love! Plutarch! Why what do you mean?" "No child of mine shall ever be named after the god of the infernal regions!" Mr. Brown explained the blunder and passed on. "What do you say then to Galileo? There is not a single Galileo Brown in the dictionary." "Was Galileo an Israelite?" "No love, I think not." "I thought from his name perhaps he came from Gallilee," said Mrs. Brown thoughtfully. Mr. Brown was too much astonished to try to explain. He resumed the reading of his list. "Pelaliah is a Scriptural name. Would you care for Pelaliah? Pelaliah Brown?" "I think not!" said Mrs. Brown. "It sounds like an impeachment of the dear child’s veracity. I don’t think we ought to start him in life with the insinuation that he will be a storyteller." "It might not be right then. Suppose we call him Petrarch?" "Is that a Bible name?" "No love, not a Bible name." "To be sure not; I was thinking of St. Peter. I think, William, I should prefer an American name of some kind if we could find one." Mr. Brown concealed his feelings and turned a new leaf of his list. "I have a few Aztec names," said he, "that belong on this continent and that are marked by strong individuality. Cegoio-moc, for instance. He was an Aztec king." "Was his last name Brown?" "I think not. No, I am certain it wasn’t, and there was Netzahualcoyotl; he was a king, too." "Our child could never put such a name as that on an umbrella handle." "Probably not," said Mr. Brown. "The king probably had no umbrella. Spotted Tail, however, is an American name, which-" "And you would give that name to your child—your own child." "I don’t know. Spotted Tail Brown might answer for—" Mrs. Brown suddenly flirted out of the room with a remark intimating that she was going home to her mother’s. After she had had a good cry, Mr. Brown folded up his list and agreed to call the child Thomas.