The Pomp of Yesterday

by Joseph Hocking

'What is that?'

'That I had been with Indians. Even now I dream about them, and I wake up in the night sometimes, seeing the glitter of their eyes, and the flash of their knives. I think they tortured me, too. I have curious scars on my body. Still, I don't think about that if I can help it.'

'And you have no recollection of your father or mother?'

He shook his head.

'No memories of your boyhood?'

'No.'

'Then I must give you a name. What would you like to be called?'

He laughed almost merrily. 'I don't know. One name is as good as another. What a beautiful place!' and he pointed to one of the proudest dwellings in that part of the country. 'What is it called?'

'That is Mount Edgecumbe,' I said.

'Mount Edgecumbe,' he repeated, 'Edgecumbe? That sounds rather nice.
Call me Edgecumbe.'