Mr. Midshipman Easy | Page 2

enjoy her breakfast. Mrs Easy had her
own suspicions, everybody else considered it past doubt, all except Mr
Easy; he little "thought, good easy man, that his greatness was
ripening"; he had decided that to have an heir was no Easy task, and it
never came into his calculations, that there could be a change in his
wife's figure. You might have added to it, subtracted from it, divided it,
or multiplied it, but as it was a zero, the result would be always the
same. Mrs Easy also was not quite sure-she believed it might be the
case, there was no saying; it might be a mistake, like that of Mrs
Trunnion's in the novel, and, therefore, she said nothing to her husband
about the matter. At last Mr Easy opened his eyes, and when, upon
interrogating his wife, he found out the astounding truth, he opened his
eyes still wider, and then he snapped his fingers and danced, like a bear

upon hot plates, with delight, thereby proving that different causes may
produce similar effects in two instances at one and the same time. The
bear dances from pain, Mr Easy from pleasure; and again, when we are
indifferent, or do not care for anything, we snap our fingers at it, and
when we are overjoyed, and obtain what we most care for, we also snap
our fingers. Two months after Mr Easy snapped his fingers, Mrs Easy
felt no inclination to snap hers, either from indifference or pleasure,
The fact was, that Mrs Easy's time was come, to undergo what
Shakespeare pronounces the pleasing punishment that women bears but
Mrs Easy, like the rest of her sex, declared "that all men were liars,"
and most particularly poets.
But while Mrs Easy was suffering, Mr Easy was in ecstasies. He
laughed at pain, as all philosophers do when it is suffered by other
people, and not by themselves.
In due course of time, Mrs Easy presented her husband with a fine boy,
whom we present to the public as our hero.

CHAPTER II
In which Mrs Easy, as usual, has her own way.
IT WAS the fourth day after Mrs Easy's confinement that Mr Easy,
who was sitting by her bedside in an easy chair, commenced as follows:
"I have been thinking, my dear Mrs Easy, about the name I shall give
this child."
"Name, Mr Easy! why, what name should you give it but your own?"
"Not so, my dear," replied Mr Easy; "they call all names proper names,
but I think that mine is not. It is the very worst name in the calendar."
"Why, what's the matter with it, Mr Easy?"
"The matter affects me as well as the boy. Nicodemus is a long name to

write at full length, and Nick is vulgar. Besides, as there will be two
Nicks, they will naturally call my boy young Nick, and of course I shall
be styled old Nick, which will be diabolical."
"Well, Mr Easy, at all events then let me choose the name."
"That you shall, my dear, and it was with this view that I have
mentioned the subject so early."
"I think, Mr Easy, I will call the boy after my poor father-his name
shall be Robert."
"Very well, my dear, if you wish it, it shall be Robert. You shall have
your own way. But I think, my dear, upon a little consideration, you
will acknowledge that there is a decided objection."
"An objection Mr Easy?"
"Yes, my dear; Robert may be very well, but you must reflect upon the
consequences; he is certain to be called Bob."
"Well, my dear, and suppose they do call him Bob?"
"I cannot bear even the supposition, my dear. You forget the county in
which we are residing, the downs covered with sheep."
"Why, Mr Easy, what can sheep have to do with a Christian name?"
"There it is; women never look to consequences. My dear, they have a
great deal to do with the name of Bob. I will appeal to any farmer in the
county, if ninety-nine shepherds' dogs out of one hundred are not called
Bob. Now observe, your child is out of doors somewhere in the fields
or plantations; you want and you call him. Instead of your child, what
do you find? Why, a dozen curs at least, who come running up to you,
all answering to the name of Bob, and wagging their stumps of tails.
You see, Mrs Easy, it is a dilemma not to be got over. You level your
only son to the brute creation by giving him a Christian name which,
from its peculiar brevity, has been monopolised by all the dogs in the

county. Any other name you please, my dear, but in this one