From him then have arisen our ‘Isaacs’ and ‘Isaacsons,’ our ‘Hicks’ and ‘Hicksons,’ our ‘Higgs’ and ‘Higsons,’ and with the Norman-French diminutives appended, our ‘Higgins,’ ‘Higginsons,’ ‘Higgotts,’[75] and ‘Higgetts.’ ‘Sarah,’ in the dress of ‘Sarra,’ had a fair number of admirers. ‘Sarra le Commongere,’ ‘William fil. Sarra,’ ‘Nicholas fil. Sarre,’ is the usual entry. The origin of our ‘Sarsons’ would thus be certain, were it not that this name, as will be shown elsewhere, has got confused with ‘Saracen.’ Moses also failed to be accepted among Christians, nor was Aaron much more fortunate, such registration as ‘Aaron le Blund’ or ‘Aron Judde’ being rare. ‘Samson’ or ‘Sampson,’ as it is more generally recorded, was of course popular enough, and many of our ‘Sampsons’ are rather the simple ‘Samson’ than the patronymic of ‘Samuel.’ ‘Samms,’ ‘Samuels’ and ‘Samuelson’ are generally of Jewish descent. ‘David,’ with its ‘Davies,’ its ‘Davidsons,’ its ‘Dawes’ and ‘Dawsons,’ its ‘Dawkes’ and ‘Dawkins,’ or ‘Dawkinsons,’ its ‘Dayes,’ ‘Daysons,’ and ‘Dakins’ (when not ‘Deakin’), would be equally sure of remembrance; though doubtless, as the patron saint of the Principality, and as a favourite among Scottish kings, it owes much to these outer chances. Here, too, we are reminded of Piers Plowman, with his— Dawe the dykere And a dozen othere. This nickname seems to have had a long reign in the popular mouth, for we find, towards the close of the sixteenth century, Haywood writing the following epigram:— To a justice a juggler did complaine, Of one that dispraised his legerdemain. What’s thy name? sayd the Justice: Dawson, sayd hee: Is thy father alive? Nay, dead, sir, pardee: Then thou shalt no more be Dau’s son, a clere case, Thou art Daw thyself now in thy father’s place.[76] Passing by ‘Absolom,’ ‘Solomon,’ or ‘Salamon,’ ‘Job’ and ‘Jobson,’ the story of Daniel would of course be common. This has bequeathed us itself in _propria persona_, and ‘Dancock,’ ‘Dankin,’ ‘Danett,’ and ‘Dannett.’ With regard to ‘Dans,’ ‘Dance,’ ‘Danse,’ and ‘Danson,’ there is a little difficulty. We have to remember that ‘Dan,’ like ‘Dame,’[77] figured prominently in early days as a simple title of respect. They were but the ‘Don’ and ‘Donna’ which, in one form or another, still exist in Italy, France, and Spain. ‘Dame,’ from domina, meant ‘mistress.’ ‘Don,’ from dominus, meant ‘master.’ To rank and age the two terms were equally applied. A ‘dame’s school’ still preserves this connexion of ideas. ‘As with the mistress so with the maid,’ is in early Bibles ‘As with the dame so with the maid.’ Thus there seems to be little doubt that our ‘Dames’ and ‘Damsons’ are so sprung. Why then should not ‘Dans’ and ‘Danse’ and ‘Danson’ be the masculine form? Chaucer, in his Canterbury Tales, represents the host as asking the Monk—