NAMING THE BABY.

Auckland Star, Volume LVII, Issue 114, 15 May 1926, Page 26

NAMING THE BABY.

(By G. EDITH BURTON.) When one thinks of christenings, that told humorous tale of Mark Twain's bubbles up; the christening where the long-winded divine delivers a wordy antepanegyric of the infant's future life. How "he" might be this, "he" might bo that—allowing his (the parson's) heavy imagination to play over all the things a "boy" might become. At last, when the infant becomes restive the eloquent one, turning to the father, says: 'Name this child," and the father meekly replies 'Mary Ann." (Mr. Mark Twain, if you are among the shades of "the House Boat on the Styx" I humbly apologise for this clumsy attempt to tell your inimitable story.) In the good old days (as we are wont to call them, whether we mean it or not) people did not have much ■worry or excitemnet over running the baby. If it was a son he was called after both his grandfathers, just as a daughter was caller after her grannies. How tlie parents finally decided on ■which name was to be first I don't know; but you often find that a man named "Charles William," is commonly known as "Bill," Norman Edward as "Ted" and go on, showing that to please father his father's name came first, and as a sop to mother the son was always called by Jier father's name. These were the days before the Zelmas, Zitas and Zoes, the Vahnais, Volnais and Vernas arrived with their train of other fantastic names. For years strange-sounding uncommon names ran riot; then all at once there was a sudden revulsion, a Btampede back to the homely old names

of Victorian simplicity, having the fragrance of old world grace. Betty, Nancy, Dorothy, Peggy, Anne, Mary, Joan, UrsuUa, Priscilla, Prudence, Margaret, Elizabeth— scores of them. Tiny babes bore up under Barbara Elizabeth for a time and were later designated Babs or Beth or Betty. Probably there was a greater run on Betty for a time than any other name. Indeed, a few years ago you could almost tell a girl's age if her name was "Betty." Similarly was 'Teter done to death in naming boys, and that only about ten years ago. One redeeming point this craze had was that both "Betty" and 'Teter" are fine old names of which one need never be ashamed. It is bettir, too, in times of etsess to be called "Peter" than "Algernon Adolphus." Reverting to family names, it is hard to credit, though perfectly true, that in olden times in Scottish families were to be found two children bearing the same name and this waa how it came about. The parents each had a brother called, say "John." When their first boy was born he was "named for" Uncle John on father's nide. A second boy was born, and he also was named "John" for mother's brother. This sounds too ridiculous, but I know positively that it was quite often done. I read somewhere lately of a man who was named William Smith and who called hie three sons William (1), Wm! (2), and so on, so that there' would always be a Wm. Smith to carry on the business. I know of another man who eaid he would give his children numbers only till they could choose a name they liked. This tale has no ending. Certainly we are mosCTy dissatisfied •with our own names, but isn't that just because we are rather tired of them? When Marie Correlli wrote her best book "Thelma," it was at first considered a great adventure for young mothers to call .their first daughter "Thelma/' but coon it became quite ordinary. Name of flowers and of precious stones find many admirers; what a merciful providence it is that has kept us from vegetables. ■