But the women declared that it could not be; and the rector desiring to christen him, because it might never have been done before, refused point-blank to put any "Isaac" in, and was satisfied with "Robin" only, the name of the man who had saved him.
The rector showed deep knowledge of his flock, which looked upon Jews as the goats of the Kingdom; for any Jew must die for a world of generations ere ever a Christian thinks much of him.

But finding him not to be a Jew, the other boys, instead of being satisfied, condemned him for a Dutchman.
Whatever he was, the boy throve well, and being so flouted by his playmates, took to thoughts and habits and amusements of his own.
In-door life never suited him at all, nor too much of hard learning, although his capacity was such that he took more advancement in an hour than the thick heads of young Flamborough made in a whole leap-year of Sundays.

For any Flamburian boy was considered a "Brain Scholar," and a "Head-Languager," when he could write down the parson's text, and chalk up a fish on the weigh-board so that his father or mother could tell in three guesses what manner of fish it was.

And very few indeed had ever passed this trial.
For young Robin it was a very hard thing to be treated so by the other boys.

He could run, or jump, or throw a stone, or climb a rock with the best of them; but all these things he must do by himself, simply because he had no name.