There was a great swell in Japan,
Whose name on a Tuesday began;
It lasted through Sunday
Till twilight on Monday,
And sounded like stones in a can.
He was a young lawyer who had just started practicing in a small town and hung his sign outside of his office door. It read: "A. Swindler." A stranger who called to consult him saw the sign and said: "My goodness, man, look at that sign! Don't you see how it reads? Put in your first name—Alexander, Ambrose or whatever it is."
"Oh, yes I know," said the lawyer resignedly, "but I don't exactly like to do it."
"Why not?" asked the client. "It looks mighty bad as it is. What is your first name?"
Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smitten frame,
The power of grace, the magic of a name.—Campbell.