"Well, then, Mr Forster," said the planter, "try if you can be more fortunate."
"What do you think of Chrononhotonthologus?" said Newton to the woman.
"Eh! what dat?—say that again, sar," replied the woman.
"Chrononhotonthologus."
"Eh! dat real fine name for piccaninny," cried the woman, with delight in her countenance. "Many tanky, sar. Chroton—polygarse."
"No, no," replied Newton, laughing; "Chrononhotonthologus."
"Es, hab um now—Hoton—tolyglass."
"No, that's only part. Chronon—hoton—thologus."
"I see—very fine name—Proton—choton—polyglass."
"Yes, that's nearer to it," replied Newton.