Perhaps the origin of the name Rahab Obedience, for many years an employe in Miss Schofield’s room, was one among the most unique. Accompanied by her child, who had been sent home the day before for want of a name, Rahab called early one morning on Miss Schofield and expressed great distress over the possibility of her not being able to comply with the entrance regulations and keep her little boy in school.
“Missus,” spoke Rahab, “Banjo be’n tellin’ me dat yo’ sais he mus’ hab some trimmins’ ’fore he kin com’ to yo’ sc’ool an’ clear befo’ dee Lawd, Missus, he aint got non’ ’side frum Banjo’ and hee jist caint git non.’ Dat chile nebber aint had any daddy, Missus!”
“Every child that enters this school” said Miss Schofield, “must have a name or be given one, else we can not teach him. Perhaps, we may give your son a name.
“What is your name? All children without a father bear their mother’s name.”
“Mer name, Missus?” queried Rahab in surprise. “I be’n tinkink yo’ no’ mer name lon’ time.”
“Yes, I know; but what is your Christian name—the other part of your name? Rahab who?”
“O, yas’am, I ’noes w’at yo’ means now, but dats all de name I habs—jest Rahab,” said the woman as she looked hopefully at Miss Schofield for some means by which a name could be found for her son and he be allowed to remain in school.
“Well, can’t you suggest some name for your son?” asked Miss Schofield. “What name would you like for him to be known by?”
“We’l Missus,” said Rahab, “mer old marster allus tol’ us dat Obedience wus der bes trate in de karecter of a cullud pusson an’ so I bleeves I’d jest lak to hab mer boi call’d Banjo Obedience.”
“Very well,” replied Miss Schofield, “hereafter he shall be known as Banjo Obedience and we shall know you as Rahab Obedience.”