"That's what I was thinking!" said Mother Golden, eagerly. "I was thinking anyway, Joel, 'twould be best to keep him through his teething and stomach troubles, and give him a good start in the way of proper food and nursing. At them homes and nurseries, they mean well, but the most of them's young, and they _don't_ understand a child's stomach. It's experience they need, not good-will, I'm well aware. Of course, when Baby begun to be a boy, things might be different. You work hard enough as it is, father, and there's places, no doubt, could do better for him, maybe, than what we could. But--well, seeing whose name he come in, I _do_ feel to see him through his teething." "Children, what do you say?" asked Father Golden. "You're old enough to have your opinion, even the youngest of you." "Oh, keep him! keep him!" clamored the three younger children. Adam and Lemuel exchanged a glance of grave inquiry. "I guess he'd better stay, father!" said Adam. "I think so, too!" said Lemuel; and both gave something like a sigh of relief. "Then that's settled," said Father Golden, "saying and supposing that no objection turns up. Next thing is, what shall we call this child?" All eyes were fixed on the baby, who, now full of warm milk, sat throned on Mother Golden's knee, blinking content. It was a pretty picture: the rosy, dimpled creature, the yellow floss ruffled all over his head, his absurd little mouth open in a beaming smile; beaming above him, Mother Golden's placid face in its frame of silver hair; fronting them, Father Golden in his big leather chair, solid, comfortable, benevolent; and the five children, their honest, sober faces lighted up with unusual excitement. A pleasant, homelike picture. Nothing remarkable in the way of setting; the room, with its stuffed chairs, its tidies, and cabinet organ, was only unlike other such rooms from the fact that Mother Golden habitually sat in it; she could keep even haircloth from being commonplace. But now, all the light in the room seemed to centre on the yellow flossy curls against her breast. "A-goo!" said the baby, in a winning gurgle. "He says his name's Goo!" announced Joseph. "Don't be a chuckle-head, Joe!" said Adam. "What was the name on the paper, mother?" "It said 'his father is a Waif;' but I don't take that to be a Christian name. Surname, more likely, shouldn't you say, father?" "Not a Christian name, certainly," said Father Golden. "Not much of a name anyhow, 'pears to me. We'd better give the child a suitable name, mother, saying and supposing no objection turns up. Coming into a Christian family, let him have Christian baptism, I say." "Oh, call him Arthur!" "Bill!" "Richard!" "Charlie!" "Reginald!" cried the children in chorus.