“It’s name enough, I should say.”
“It is hardly worth while to make fun of my name: I am not responsible for it, and it is the best I have.”
“I beg your pardon, Mr.— I don’t know what your name is now, for really I did not take it in,” pleaded Dory, who was sometimes very brusk in his manner, though he did not mean to hurt anybody’s feelings. “Honestly, I did not understand you.”
“You cannot have read English history very much, or you would have recognized the first name.”
“I never did read English history much: in fact, I never did much reading of any kind.”
“My first name is Bolingbroke, and my surname is Millweed. The whole of it is Bolingbroke Millweed,” added the victim, mollified as he pitied the ignorance of his deliverer.
“All right, Mr. Millweed: I won’t tackle the first name until I get a little better acquainted with it.”
“Viscount Henry St. John Bolingbroke, after whom I was named, was a prime minister of England, and a fine scholar; though he was charged with treason. But I did not pick out the name myself: it was my mother’s choice, but I can’t say that I approve it. I suppose I shall be called ‘Bolly’ as long as I live.”
“Of course your friends can’t handle such a jaw-breaker as Bolingbroke every time they want to ask you which way the wind is. But never mind the name, Mr. Millweed. I picked you up in deep water, and that’s how you happen to be on board of the Goldwing.”
“The famous Goldwing! I am extremely happy to be on board of her; though I wish our meeting had been under more favorable circumstances,” added Mr. Bolingbroke Millweed, as he poured the water out of one of his shoes.