"Certainly, I knew all about the Battle family, from A to Izzard."
"Let me tell, grandma. Well, Jimmie Battle went to Paris for a week, and when he got back to America he called himself James Battelle. Everybody loathes and despises—I mean, doesn't like Jimmie any more."
The tension gave way at this point, and they joined in Ethan's laughter.
"I'm afraid, like the abhorred Mr. Battelle, I didn't object to the French variant of my name; but I did mind the English persistence in calling me Eth-an Gáy-no."
"Quite ridiculous," said his grandmother.
"But did they go on speaking of you in that horrid way?" asked Val, incredulously.
Ethan nodded.
"I wouldn't have stayed with such people a minute," she said—"at least, only long enough to see how ridiculous they were, and then come straight home."
"Miss Hills, she's my Sunday-school teacher," remarked Emmie, "she's been abroad, and she says all English people call cake cyke."
"Ah, let us hope Miss Hills is more conversant with the manners and customs of the ancient Hebrews."