Christian name

Okay, so

this is interesting, all right? And I'm not a Jonas Brothers fan, not specifically, but I didn't know their names, their Christian names, until today when I was on radio in Melbourne and somebody had texted in.

Kevin was a name that took me by surprise.

I actually thought the person was taking the

Also, I will say, I mentioned it in my Letterboxd review, Letterboxd, the WZA, the WZA, my Wu-Tang name.

Ben underscore Turnbull, my legal Christian name.

I'm going to just keep doing this.

Yeah.

Actually, maybe we should take a second and explain Doja.

That's obviously not your God-given, you know, federal name, your Christian name.

Where did that come from? And what is your real name? Are we doing a name reveal? The

name reveal.

I'll go out to look at that tower first thing tomorrow morning.

Tell me, Miss Vangel, what is your name, your Christian name, I mean?

Why, Hilda, of course.

Hilda, indeed.

Her name is Miss Fosley.

Poo, that sounds so cold.

Her Christian name, I mean.

Kaya, I believe.

The mother is sometimes called Mrs. Rector, on account of her being the widow of a former rector of the parish, and sometimes Mrs. Maxa, to avoid confusion with the wife of the present rector.

It is as if there were two Mrs. John Smiths, one of whom is called Mrs. Helen, Maxa being, of course, a feminine Christian name.

Of the five children, the eldest is the high-spirited, impulsive Bruno, who is just of an age to go away to a city school.

Next comes his sister, Mea, whose fault is that she is too submissive and confiding.

Mrs. Helter, the title had apparently been accorded her by courtesy since she was still a spinster, and everybody but myself used it.

But I began with Martha, her Christian name, and Martha it is to this day.

She's a most capable manager and runs my household with a precision that reminds one of well-oiled wheels and a careful economy that has its recommendation in these days of ridiculous prices.

She seems to know and be known by almost everybody in the dale and was an all but exhaustless fountain of anecdote and news.

All are shouting.

Some cry aloud his surname, some his Christian name.

Others call out their own names to remind him that they are there.

Now the appeal is made in Irish blarney, now in broken English.

But there are still blacker shadows to this picture.

If it were merely a question of two million men, more or less, responsible for their own fate, sinking into this demoralized condition, it would be serious enough.

They might reasonably expect Christians with a command laid upon them to love their neighbor as themselves to do something to help them.

But unfortunately, these men are not simply dropping back themselves.