Still, they must have names to be known by, and Mrs.Hopkins was much exercised in the matter.

Like many New England parents, she had a decided taste for names that were significant and sonorous.

That which she had chosen for her oldest child, the young poet, was either a remarkable prophecy, or it had brought with it the endowments it promised.

She had lost, or, in her own more pictorial language, she had buried, a daughter to whom she had given the names, at once of cheerful omen and melodious effect, Wealthy Amadora.
As for them poor little creturs, she said, she believed they was rained down out o' the skies, jest as they say toads and tadpoles come.

She meant to be a mother to 'em for all that, and give 'em jest as good names as if they was the governor's children, or the minister's.