Betty stood godmother for him, and the parish clerk and the sexton were
his godfathers.

He was named John.

"A plain, sensible name," said Miss Betty. "And while we are about it,"
she added, "we may as well choose his surname. For a surname he must
have, and the sooner it is decided upon the better."

Miss Kitty had made a list of twenty-seven of her favourite Christian
names, which Miss Betty had sternly rejected, that everything might be
plain, practical, and respectable at the outset of the tramp-child's
career. For the same reason she refused to adopt Miss Kitty's
suggestions for a surname.

"It's so seldom there's a chance of _choosing_ a surname for anybody,
sister," said Miss Kitty, "it seems a pity not to choose a pretty one."

"Sister Kitty," said Miss Betty, "don't be romantic. The boy is to be
brought up in that station of life for which one syllable is ample. I
should have called him Smith if that had not been Thomasina's name. As
it is, I propose to call him Broom. He was found under a bush of broom,
and it goes very well with John, and sounds plain and respectable."

So Miss Betty bought a Bible, and on the flyleaf of it she wrote in her
fine, round, gentlewoman's writing--_"John Broom. With good wishes for
his welfare, temporal and eternal. From a sincere friend!"_ And when the
inscription was dry the Bible was wrapped in brown paper, and put by in
Thomasina's trunk till John Broom should come to years of discretion.