"No yer don't, Miss Diddie; don't yer name 'im no sich," said Chris;
"le's name im' Marse Whale, w'at swallered de man an' nuber chawed 'im."

"No, I sha'n't name him nothin' out'n the Bible," said Diddie, "because
that's wicked, and maybe God wouldn't let him live, just for that; I
b'lieve I'll name him Christopher Columbus, 'cause if he hadn't
discovered America there wouldn't er been no people hyear, an' I
wouldn't er had no father nor mother, nor dog, nor nothin': an', Dumps,
sposin' you name yours Pocahontas, that was er _beau-ti-ful_ Injun
girl, an' she throwed her arms 'roun' Mr. Smith an' never let the
tomahawks kill 'im."

"I know I ain't goin' to name mine no Injun," said Dumps, decidedly.

"Yer right, Miss Dumps; now yer's er talkin'," said Riar; "I wouldn't
name 'im no Injun; have 'im tearin' folks' hyar off, like Miss Diddie
reads in de book. I don't want ter hab nuffin 'tall ter do wid no
Injuns; no, sar! I don't like dem folks."

"Now, chil'en, de dogs is 'sleep," said Mammy, yawning and rubbing her
eyes; "go ter bed, won't yer?"

And the little girls, after laying the puppies in the box and covering
them with an old shawl, were soon fast asleep. But there was not much
sleep in the nursery that night; the ungrateful little dogs howled and
cried all night. Mammy got up three times and gave them warm milk, and
tucked them up in the shawl; but no sooner would she put them back in
the box than they would begin to cry and howl. And so at the
breakfast-table next morning, when Dumps asked her papa to tell her
something to name her puppy, Diddie gravely remarked,