"He is to be relied upon, in spite of his French origin," said Waife.
"All national prejudice fades before the sense of a common interest.
And we shall always find more genuine solidity of character in a French
poodle than in an English mastiff, whenever a poodle is of use to us and
the mastiff is not. But oh, waste of care! oh, sacrifice of time to
empty names! oh, emblem of fashionable education! It never struck me
before,--does it not, child though thou art, strike thee now,--by the
necessities of our drama, this animal must be a French dog?"

"Well, Grandfather?"

"And we have given him an English name! Precious result of our own
scholastic training, taught at preparatory academies precisely that which
avails us naught when we are to face the world! What is to be done?
Unlearn him his own cognomen,--teach him another name,--too late, too
late. We cannot afford the delay."

"I don't see why he should be called any name at all. He observes your
signs just as well without."

"If I had but discovered that at the beginning. Pity! Such a fine name
too. Sir Isaac! /Vanitas vanitatum!/ What desire chiefly kindles the
ambitious? To create a name, perhaps bequeath a title,--exalt into Sir
Isaacs a progeny of slops! And, after all, it is possible (let us hope
it in this instance) that a sensible young dog may learn his letters and
shoulder his musket just as well, though all the appellations by which
humanity knows him be condensed into a pitiful monosyllable.
Nevertheless (as you will find when you are older), people are obliged in
practice to renounce for themselves the application of those rules which
they philosophically prescribe for others. Thus, while I grant that a