n the table, and each step in the pedigree is debated graphically.
Volume after volume is referred to. At the slightest hitch out come
Patent Rolls, Close Rolls, Fine Rolls, Pipe Rolls, and records of almost
every description. Presently the room has the appearance of having been
struck by a tornado. Volumes are lying about everywhere, and in every
conceivable position. The floor is covered with them, all the chairs are
in use, three Patent Rolls are lying open and face downwards on the
mantelpiece, there are several on the hearthrug. In fact it is now
impossible to move. Yet our host, accustomed to these things, in his
search for a volume jumps from spot to spot with the agility of an
antelope. The book-shelves are half-emptied, some of the remaining
volumes have fallen down. My coffee cup lies on a pile composed of
_Rotuli Hundredorum_, a _Placita Abbreviatio_, and a _Testa de Nevil_.
But it is good fun, if exhausting, and a sovereign cure for insomnia. Our
book-hunter usually leaves him about one o'clock in the morning, and the
genealogist is genuinely sorry when he goes.

But to tell the truth our bookman is not a bit the wiser as to Reginald
FitzRanulf!

One day friend Brown (for so he is called) came to see the book-hunter in
great distress. He had but lately become a parent, and was still slightly
excited about it.

''Pon my word,' said he, 'I don't know what to do. You know how proud I
am of my family, and how I hoped all along that it would be a boy so that
I could give it the name that generations of my ancestors possessed. And
now Mary says she won't hear of it.'

The bookman sympathised with him, but asked what was the proposed name.

'Turchetil,' said he; 'they were all called that for generations. But of
course the name wasn't Brown then, Le Brun was the family name in the
twelfth century.'

'A fine lofty name,' replied his friend, 'but wouldn't Turchetil Brown
sound rather funny nowadays?'

'I don't see why,' said he stiffly; 'they're both good old names.'

The bookman assented, though inwardly he could not but agree with Mrs.
Brown. Turchetil Le Brun was one thing, and Turchetil Brown quite
another. Perhaps, however, a compromise might be reached.

'Is there no other ancient name in your family that would do?' he
suggested.

'Yes,' said the genealogist, 'there are two others, but not so good as
Turchetil. They are Baldric and Bigod . . .'

Truly the study of genealogy has its disadvantages. T