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 honour her own likewise—but Jacob! However, she was not a woman to stop at trifles, even if she had the time; so the poor, little, chubby thing—for now she added poor to the chubby—the poor, chubby, little thing was called Jacobina. Then in due time came the eleventh, which was Frederica—the twelfth, Benjamina—"and now," said the still happy Mrs. Bangs, "what to call my baker's dozen is more than I can tell. I have one more than Christopher wished me to have, but let that alone; 'tis no concern of ours; only Robina, dear, step to the parlour and tell your father what a strait I am in about the name. There is his friend, Floss; he has a curly headed, chubby little boy by the name of Francis, and it is a girl's name too; ask him if he would like to name the poor, dear, chubby, little thing after his friend's son."

"Tell your mother—are you Phillippy?" "No, father, I am Robina." "You are all so much alike," said he, "that I don't know you apart; girls all look alike; now if one of you had been a boy, as any reasonable man had a right to expect, I could have told the difference. It is a hard thing that a man cannot tell one child from another, a thing that I could have done if they had been boys."

"But mother knows us all apart," said Robina, "and so do Hannah French and our dear grandfather and grandmother Bangs—they never are in doubt."

"Don't tell me this," said surly Mr. Bangs, "for have I not heard your mother call you the one half of four or five names before she could hit on the right one? Does she not call out 'Phil—Will—Fred—Jo—Ben—Robina, fetch me the poor, dear, chubby, little thing out of the cradle?' Tell her that Fabius Floss won't think it any compliment to name a girl after his fine little boy, and tell her that