“You’d have no objection?
“I thought not! Yes; I knew what it was coming to. He’s a beggar, he is; and a person who stays out half the night; yes, he does; and it’s no use your denying it - a beggar and a tippler, and that’s the man you’d make godfather to your own flesh and blood! Upon my word, Caudle, it’s enough to make a woman get up and dress herself to hear you talk.
“Well, I can hardly tell you, if you won’t have Wagstaff, or Pugsby, or Sniggins, or Goldman, or somebody that’s respectable, to do what’s proper, the child sha’n’t be christened at all. As for Prettyman, or any such raff - no, never! I’m sure there’s a certain set of people that poverty’s catching from, and that Prettyman’s one of ’em. Now, Caudle, I won’t have my dear child lost by any of your spittoon acquaintance, I can tell you.
“No; unless I can have my way, the child sha’n’t be christened at all. What do you say?
“It must have a name?
“There’s no ‘must’ at all in the case - none. No, it shall have no name; and then see what the world will say. I’ll call it Number Six - yes, that will do as well as anything else, unless I’ve the godfather I like. Number Six Caudle! ha! ha! I think that must make you ashamed of yourself if anything can. Number Six Caudle - a much better name than Mr. Prettyman could give; yes, Number Six. What do you say?
“Anything but Number Seven?
“Oh, Caudle, if ever - ”
“At this moment,” writes Caudle, “little Number Six began to cry; and taking advantage of the happy accident I somehow got to sleep.”