As the three exiles were lounging together one afternoon at this very point of rocks, studying their neighbors through the telescope as if they had been the inhabitants of another planet, Philip broke the silence with quite an original speech—one only he could make.
"See here, fellows," he said with that new familiarity they had begun to show toward each other, "as we are likely to take considerable interest in these people down below, it will be mighty inconvenient when we talk about them to say, 'The man in the big house across the road from the log barn did this,' or 'The man in the farthest twin cabin did that,' or 'The old chap in the long house flanked by orchards and stacks did something else'; so I say, let's give them family names."
The others laughingly admitted that the idea was not a bad one, and Bromley suggested at random the names Smith, Jones, and Brown.
"As good as any others," said Philip.
"Very well," said Bromley, "then we will call this first neighbor 'Smith.'"
"No, you don't," cried Philip, with much spirit. "I've taken a prejudice against that old fellow, because he sits on the woodpile and smokes his pipe every afternoon while his wife does the milking. Smith is too respectable a name for him."
"I didn't know," said Coleman, laughing, "that there was any particular virtue in the name of Smith."
"I didn't say there was," said Philip, "but if this first old loafer should turn out half as bad as I fear he will, the name would be a slur on too many families, you know. Now, if it's all the same to you, gentlemen, we will begin at the other end and call the man of the orchard 'Smith.' 'Jones' naturally falls to the owner of the second twin cabin, and this fellow below becomes—say, 'Shifless,' whether he likes it or not."
As no one of the three had ever heard of any one of the name of Shifless, Philip's arrangement was agreed to, and from time to time they settled other names on the dwellers in every cabin in sight, and one column of smoke which rose from behind an intervening ridge was spoken of as "Thompson's smoke."
On the morning of December 23 in that first year on the mountain, the three soldiers were thrown into a great state of excitement by a remarkable discovery. Coleman and Bromley were clearing off the snow from a stack of pea-vines, preparatory to beating them out on the floor of the house, when Philip came running toward them, holding up the telescope and beckoning them to meet him. He said he had seen three United States officers at the long cabin under Sheep Cliff, which was known as Smith's. The others needed no urging to follow Philip. Indeed, they ran so rapidly over the frozen ground in the rare upper air that they scarcely had breath for speaking when they arrived on the point of rocks. Philip directed the glass on the house again, and then, with a cry of delight, he passed it to Coleman.