“History doesn’t record,” Cowles acknowledged.
“Talking about names,” said Sanford, “I think one of the oddest I ever heard was Sauerpickle.”
“There’s a fellow in our town named Twelvetrees,” offered Arthur Thompson.
“When I was a boy,” said Mr. Collins, “my mother, I recall, used to tell of an old lady whose name was Hepzibah Gandel. That has always seemed to me about as odd a name as there is.”
“There’s an old man who lives near us,” hazarded Kendall, “whose name is Meshach Fish.”
“Not bad,” drawled Tooker judicially. “Reminds me of my friend Shadrach Rowe. They called him Shad Rowe for short.”
“Ned, that will be about all from you,” laughed Arthur.
“You don’t believe it?” protested Tooker. “Why, the man’s a prominent citizen of my town; keeps a shoot and boe store—”
There was a laugh at that. Tooker waited patiently and resumed. “He doesn’t mind being called Shad; makes no bones about it!”