"Aunt Diana," said Harebell at dinner; "do you know much about christenings? When I was in India a lady—the governor's wife—christened a yacht. There were pictures of it, and dad told me she poured a bottle of wine over it. Babies have water—what should my pony have? Would it be wicked to christen him like a baby? God made him, didn't he? He belongs to God just as much as a baby does."
"Don't you know that animals have no souls?" said Mrs. Keith. "You cannot play at such games. Ponies don't require christening."
"But I'm giving him a name," said Harebell. "Couldn't I have a little drop of wine, just in a medicine bottle?"
"Most certainly not. You are talking nonsense. Go on with your dinner."
Harebell next consulted Andy.
"I don't see why Chrysoprasus shouldn't have a proper christening. Will you come into the stable this afternoon and let us do it?"
"Oh, I'll come fast enough. But I don't like your name. 'Tis a foreign one, reckon. Indian, I should say."
"It's in the Bible; it's a beautiful one."
She insisted upon having a ceremony, and dragged Andy off with her. Then she persuaded Lucy, the housemaid, to come as a looker-on. She robed herself in a soft Indian shawl, and having coaxed Mrs. Andrew to give her some home-made lemonade in a bottle, she poured it very solemnly over her pony's head.
"I name thee Chrysoprasus. And Chrysoprasus thou shalt be called to the end of thy life."