Uncle Rutherford stood at the far end of the great schoolroom, awaiting
the admission of his two candidates for its privileges and
opportunities. It was the opening-day after the conclusion of the
Christmas holidays; and half a dozen boys, besides Theodore Yorke and
Jim, had presented themselves as new scholars, and they now stood
before the principal,--Theodore at one end of the line, and Jim at the
other.

"What is your name?" asked the principal of Theodore; to which the boy
responded simply, "Theodore Yorke," and then answered in like manner
the few more questions put to him relative to age and so forth; and the
gentleman passed down the line till he came to Jim.

"What is your name?"

To uncle Rutherford's consternation, Jim, straightening himself up,
answered in a loud, confident tone, "Jim,"--he had meant to say
"James," but the more familiar appellation escaped him,--"Jim Grant
Garfield Rutherford Livingstone Washington;" and then glanced down the
line as if to say, "Beat that if you can!"

A titter ran around the room, speedily checked by the stern eye of the
principal, and one or two of the new boys giggled outright; but Jim,
with head erect, and fearless eyes fixed upon the master, was unmoved,
perhaps did not even guess that the merriment was caused by himself.

The principal found it necessary to caress his whiskers a little, then
said,--

"Good names, my boy, every one of them. Try to prove worthy to bear
them. Your age?"

This and the other needful preliminaries being settled, the new boys
were turned over to the examiners, to have their classes and position
in the school defined; and uncle Rutherford made his exit, only too
thankful that the irrepressible Jim had not added to his list of
high-sounding appellations, "President that is to be of these United
States."

School discipline, of course, had, for the time, restrained the gibes
and sneers, the open laugh, which would have greeted Jim's announcement
of his adopted name or names; but the time was only deferred. The joke
was, to the schoolboy mind, too good to be lost; and when the recess
came, and the boys were for a while at liberty, Jim became the target
for many sorry witticisms, and "Jim Grant Garfield Rutherford
Livingstone Washington" was called from all sides of the playground in
almost as many tones of mockery as there were boys; and Jim speedily
found that he had taken too much upon himself for his own comfort. The
"Grant Garfi