-I beg pardon for disturbing you, but it is important!--baby's name:
sha' n't we call him Augustine?"

"Augustine," said my father, dreamily,--"why that name's mine."

"And you would like your boy's to be the same?"

"No," said my father, rousing himself. "Nobody would know which was
which. I should catch myself learning the Latin accidence, or playing
at marbles. I should never know my own identity, and Mrs. Primmins
would be giving me pap."

My mother smiled; and putting her hand, which was a very pretty one, on
my father's shoulder, and looking at him tenderly, she said: "There's no
fear of mistaking you for any other, even your son, dearest. Still, if
you prefer another name, what shall it be?"

"Samuel," said my father. "Dr. Parr's name is Samuel."

"La, my love! Samuel is the ugliest name--"

My father did not hear the exclamation; he was again deep in his books.
Presently he started up: "Barnes says Homer is Solomon. Read Omeros
backward, in the Hebrew manner--"

"Yes, my love," interrupted my mother. "But baby's Christian name?"

"Omeros--Soreino--Solemo--Solomo!"

"Solomo,--shocking!" said my mother.