Edward laughed a little. "Well, I can't help feeling vexed; Bob screeches
that hateful little name after me wherever I go. I despise that name, and
I wish he could be made to understand it."
"How did you happen to be called Tip at first?"
"Why," said Edward, turning over the leaves of his dictionary, "my little
sister Kitty made it up before she could talk plain. How she ever got
that name out of Edward, I don't know; I'm sure I wish she had been
asleep when she did it; but that's what she called me, and that's what
I've been ever since."
"And did Johnny, the little boy that died, ever call you so?"
Edward's eyes began to grow soft.
"Often," he said gently; "and it was about the only name he could speak;
he was a little fellow."
"Well, Edward, I should not think it would be such a very disagreeable
name to you, when your father, who is gone, always used it, and always in
kindness, you told me; and it is the only name by which little Johnny can
remember you. There are two things to be thought of in this matter," Ray
continued, after a moment, finding Edward not disposed to speak: "one is,
if you hope to do anything with this old companion of yours, you must be
ready to take worse things from him than a quiet, inoffensive little name
like that; he will learn your right name, perhaps, in time.
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