Besides this, one pretty, healthy child after another was born, and she allowed herself but a brief time for convalescence.
I was the godfather of one of these babies, an honour shared by my school-mate, Von Lobenstein.

The baptismal ceremony was performed in the Boltze house.

The father and we were each to write a name on a slip of paper and lay it beside the font.

We had selected the oddest ones we could think of, and when the pastor picked up the slips he read Gerhard and Habakkuk.

Thanks to the care and wisdom of his excellent mother, the boy throve admirably in spite of his cognomen, and I heard to my great pleasure that he has become an able man.
This boyish prank is characteristic of our relations.