hen. She wouldn't know.)

"The point is this," I said firmly, "our puppy is meant for a
Pekinese--the pedigree says so. From the look of him it will be touch and
go whether he pulls it off. To call him by the name of a late poodle may
just be the deciding factor. Now I hate poodles; I hate pet dogs. A
Pekinese is not a pet dog; he is an undersized lion. Our puppy may grow
into a small lion, or a mastiff, or anything like that; but I will _not_
have him a poodle. If we call him Bingo, will you promise never to
mention in his presence that you once had a--a--you know what I
mean--called Bingo?"

She promised. I have forgiven her for having once loved a poodle. I beg
you to forget about it. There is now only one Bingo, and he is a Pekinese
puppy.

However, after we had decided to call him Bingo, a difficulty arose.
Bingo's pedigree is full of names like Li Hung Chang and Sun Yat Sen; had
we chosen a sufficiently Chinese name for him? Apart from what was due to
his ancestors, were we encouraging him enough to grow into a Pekinese?
What was there Oriental about "Bingo"?

In itself, apparently, little. And Bingo himself must have felt this; for
his tail continued to be nothing but a rat's tail, and his body to be
nothing but a fat tub, and his head to be almost the head of any little
puppy in the world. He felt it deeply. When I ragged him about it he
tried to eat my ankles. I had only to go into the room in which he was,
and murmur, "Rat's tail," to myself, or (more offensive still) "Chewed
string," for him to rush at me. "Where, O Bingo, is that delicate
feather curling gracefully over the back, which was the pride and glory
of thy great-grandfather? Is the caudal affix of the rodent thy apology
for it?" And Bingo would whimper with shame.

Then we began to look him up in the map.

I found a Chinese town called "Ning-po," which strikes me as very much
like "Bing-go," and Celia found another one called "Yung-Ping," which
might just as well be "Yung-Bing," the obvious name of Bingo's heir when
he has one. These facts being communicated to Bingo, his nose immediately
began to go back a little and his tub to develop something of a waist.
But what finally decided him was a discovery of mine made only yesterday.
_There is a Japanese province called Bingo_. Japanese, not Chinese, it is
true; but at least it is Oriental. In any case conceive one's pride in
realizing suddenly that one has been called after a province and not