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So, nestling under the patchwork quilt and sleeping the hours away in the small ark stranded in the chimney corner, she began life. Felicia was received by Talbot's Cross-roads with some difference of opinion. "I'd rather had Mirandy or Lucretia," said Mrs. Doty. "Flishyer ain't nigh as showy as a heap o' other names, 'n' like as not, folks'll be callin' her F'lish.
Now thar's Vangerline 'n' Clementine 'n' Everlyne that'd ha' bin showier then Flishyer." "Tom," put in Mr. Doty, with his usual enjoyment of his friend's weakness and strength, "Tom he'd a notion 'bout it. He said it meant som'n 'bout her a'bein' happy, 'n' he 'lowed it'd kinder give her a start in the right direction. It's jes' like Tom. He's full o' notions when he gits started.
Tom himself was caught by the fancy and when his charge was referred to occasionally in a most friendly spirit as "Sheby thar," he made no protest against it. "It's a thunderation sight better than 'Flishyer," he said, "and if it comes easier to you fellows, I've no objection. Sheba ain't bad. There's a kind of swing to it, and you can't get it very far wrong.
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