FUNINAMES CLUB

Greymouth Evening Star, 26 October 1929, Page 10

FUNINAMES CLUB

PLAN TO CHECK RIDICULE. “Give a dog a bad name and hang it,” says the old adage. But it seems that, in these days of decreasing submissiveness to fate’s decree, even the badly named dog is not going to lie down under his misfortune, says a London exchange correspondent.

The following letter, a West End address, was denvered to me one morning: — “Dear Sir (or Madam). —You must frequently have suffered from the ridicule and odium which your name has aroused among unthinking people. And yet in your own way, no doubt, you are proud of it, as I am of mine. I have conceived the notion that if we band together we may be able to formulate some plan of action to ameliorate this unmerited lot and to prove to the world that even the most preposterous name may have a dignity all its own.

“To this end I propose to form a club of Quaintly Named Folk, and I trust that I may rely upon you for your support. The first step must be. a meeting at some central hall, and I shall be glad to know whether you will be prepared to contribute, say, 2s 6d toward preliminary expenses. Please direct your reply to me at this address and mark the envelope on the bottom*, left-hand corner: ‘Funinames.’ —Yours

That meeting, 1 feel, is one that must not be missed, even if the halfcrown has to be paid in advance! Imagine the scene in the Albert Hall, for surely no less stately building will suffice for the proclamation of the dignity (all their own) belonging to the appellation of the Quaintly Named Folk. They will be assembled in their companies and their battalions. There will be the one great phalanx of Opprobious Names, the kind of people that complete strangers ring up on the telephone for the mere joy of asking “Are you Smellie?” Next to them will be the Difficult Names, rather a mixed company these, for aristocratic Cholmondeleys, Marjoribankses and Featherstonehaughs will rub shoulders with humble products of the naturalisation laws beginning with Prz.

Then there will be the pathetic company of the Give-away Names, including the skittish young spinster, just rejoicing in having for the first time acquired a vote under the Flappers Act, who is afflicted with the unfortunate name of Jubilaea; or the earnest Tory politician who is handicapped in his proclamation of the principles for which he and his ancestors have stood for untold generations by the fact that he emerged from the font as Gracchus Wat Tyler Robespierre Lucifer Sinks.

Close to these, of course, will be the important group of the War Babies, those unhappy boys now struggling' toward manhood under the deadening weight of resounding names like Kitchener ’ Joffre Jellicoe Mons Ypres Funk.