A Possitye Misnomer.

A POSSIBLE MISNOMER. By Wendell P. Stafford.

OME, name the child, my dear.

"What's in a name?"

Yet we are moulding now the speech of men : For, oh, how many, many thousand times This name will be pronounced in days to come! With tender iterations of the home, With every fond addition and sweet change That love delights in, — crooned in cradle song, Then shouted on the green by boys at play, Then murmured softly under moon and stars, By lips that make it music, — then, ah me! Bandied about the rude ways of the town, In praise and blame, from kindliness to scorn, And blown, perhaps, world-wide for ill or good, — Spoken at last, one day, with awed, hushed breath, Then treasured in a few fond, faithful hearts, Read a few years upon a low, white stone, And then forever, evermore forgot! So name the child, my dear.

What's in a name?

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