He would like to rhyme with "swallow;" but alas! it can not, can not be.

And yet, in spite of (or perhaps on account of) PUNCHINELLO'S
mellifluous name, much cavil has been brought to bear upon him. (Prepare
to receive cavilry.)

Squadrons of well-meaning persons with speaking-trumpets marched to and
fro before the sponsors of PUNCHINELLO, each roaring at them to stop
such a name as _that_, and attend to _his_ suggestion, and his only.

One did not like PUNCHINELLO because it means a "little Punch," and
he--the speaking-trumpeter--liked a great deal; and lo! while he spoke,
he changed his trumpet for several horns. Then he was taken with a fit
of herpetology in his boots, and sank to advise no more.

Another--a fellow with an infinite fancy for buffo minstrelsy--was
vociferous that PUNCHINELLO should be called "Tommy Dodd." The
discussion upon this lasted for three months; but finally, "Tommy Dodd"
was rejected on account of the superfluously aristocratic aroma that
exhaled from the name.

Four divisions of men with banners then came by, each division
respectively composed of members of the waning families of Smith, Brown,
Jones, and Robinson, and each division bawled and thundered that the
name round which it rallied should be adopted instead of PUNCHINELLO, on
pain of death.

And thousands of others came with suggestions of a like sort; for which
some of them wanted "stamps." And when they had all had their say,
PUNCHINELLO was called PUNCHINELLO, and nothing else--a name by which he