“The last one died in '84,” said Shoesmith from the hearthrug. “Called the OBSERVER. Rot rather.”
“Bad title,” said Cossington.
“There was a TATLER before that,” said Britten, sitting on the writing table at the window that was closed to deaden the cries of the Lower School at play, and clashing his boots together.
“We want something suggestive of City Merchants.”
“CITY MERCHANDIZE,” said Britten.
“Too fanciful. What of ARVONIAN? Richard Arvon was our founder, and it seems almost a duty—”
“They call them all -usians or -onians,” said Britten.
“I like CITY MERCHANDIZE,” I said. “We could probably find a quotation to suggest—oh! mixed good things.”
Cossington regarded me abstractedly.
“Don't want to put the accent on the City, do we?” said Shoesmith, who had a feeling for county families, and Naylor supported him by a murmur of approval.