"Well, I can hardly tell you, if you won't have Wagstaff, or Pugsby,
or Sniggins, or Goldman, or somebody that's respectable, to do what's
proper, the child sha'n't be christened at all. As for Prettyman, or
any such raff--no, never! I'm sure there's a certain set of people
that poverty's catching from, and that Prettyman's one of 'em. Now,
Caudle, I won't have my dear child lost by any of your spittoon
acquaintance, I can tell you.

"No; unless I can have MY way, the child sha'n't be christened at
all. What do you say?

"IT MUST HAVE A NAME?

"There's no 'must' at all in the case--none. No, it shall have no
name; and then see what the world will say. I'll call it Number Six-
-yes, that will do as well as anything else, unless I've the
godfather I like. Number Six Caudle! ha! ha! I think that must make
you ashamed of yourself if anything can. Number Six Caudle--a much
better name than Mr. Prettyman could give; yes, Number Six. What do
you say?

"ANYTHING BUT NUMBER SEVEN?

"Oh, Caudle, if ever--"


"At this moment," writes Caudle, "little Number Six began to cry; and
taking advantage of the happy accident I somehow got to sleep."