File:St. Nicholas (serial) (1873) (14782256125).jpg

Identifier: stnicholasserial351dodg (find matches)
Title: St. Nicholas (serial)
Year: 1873 (1870s)
Authors: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Subjects: Children's literature
Publisher: (New York : Scribner & Co.)
Contributing Library: Information and Library Science Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
Digitizing Sponsor: University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

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allconsonants, but— We could make believe it was a Russianname, said Chub helpfully. By using the first two letters, continued Royryou get Torodi. How s that? It s even worse than we feared! said Chubto Dick in a stage whisper. Oh, come down to business! exclaimed Royrtestily. Talk sense. Well, it sounds rather—er—interesting, dontyou think, Dick? Oh, it s great, Dick answered. What s itmean? It does nt mean anything, you gump! Royanswered warmly. It s just a name; T-o, forTom; r-o, for Roy; d-i, for Dick. Sort of a shorthand effect, said Chubrthoughtfully. But why not put it the other way,and call it Rotodi ? I think Rotodi is much moremusical to the ear. Lend me your pencil, said Dick. I ve got abetter one. Let him have it, Roy, Chub said. In the end1you 11 all come back to my suggestion; you cantbeat Camp Thomas H. Eaton if you spoil all thebark on the tree. Hand him a new piece of bark,Roy; humor him; let him have his way. Cant you stop talking for a minute? de-manded Dick.
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SELECTING A NAME FOR THE CAMP. 331 332 HARRYS ISLAND Chub grinned and accepted the suggestion. Ina minute Dick said triumphantly: I ve got it! Camp Sopoea ! So—what? asked Chub. How do you get that ? inquired Roy. First two letters of our last names, answeredDick, proudly. Sounds like Camp Sapolio, Chub objected;and if you re going in for that sort of thing Ithink Camp Pearline would be much prettier. Oh, well, you try it, then, said Dick, tossingthe pencil to Chub. I knew you d have to come to me in the end,said Chub. Now let me see. No funny business, warned Roy. Chub shookhis head. At that moment the silence, which hadbeen disturbed only by the puffing of a distantsteamer, was suddenly rudely shattered by a dis-cordant sound that was like something betweenthe finished efforts of a fish peddler and the wailof a bereaved cow. Tell Dick to stop snoring, said Chub withoutlooking up from his task. What the dickens is that? marveled Roy, asthe sound again reached them, apparently froms

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