So Alison sat down, and Thomson laid his wicked cheek against her boot, and that was the beginning of the acquaintance.
The next day when she went into the Gardens Alison looked for the Old Gentleman, and sure enough there he was, and seeing there was no one beside him, she sat down there again. And for a little while on every fine day she sat with him and they talked of various things. He was very interesting: he knew a great deal about birds and flowers and foreign countries. He had not only lived in China, but had explored the Amazon. On his watch chain was a blue stone which an Indian snake-charmer had given him. But he lived now in the big hotel at the corner of the Gardens and all his wanderings were over.
The funniest thing about him was his name. Alison did not learn what it was for a long time, but one day as she was calling “Thomson! Thomson!” very loudly as they sat there, the Old Gentleman said, “When you do that it makes me nervous.”
“Why?” Alison asked.
“Because,” the Old Gentleman said, “my name’s Thomson too.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Alison said, “I must call Thomson—I mean my dog—something else. I can’t ever call him Thomson again.”
“Why not?” said the Old Gentleman. “It doesn’t matter at all. I can’t expect to be the only Thomson in the world.”
“Oh yes,” said Alison, “I shall.”
The next day the first thing she did when she saw the Old Gentleman was to tell him she had changed Thom—the dog’s name. “In future,” she said, “he is to be called Jimmie.”
The Old Gentleman laughed. “That’s my name too,” he said.