'
'Besides, if you come to family, brother David,' says Mr Jonathan, 'ours
is of considerable antiquity, and I cannot think how it got Anglicised
into Prothero. You know I have been enabled to trace it back to
Rhyddrch, or Rhodri, a prince who fought with and frequently defeated
Ethelbald. You may not be aware, Mrs Jones, that our name, properly
Prydderch, means Ap Rhyddrch, and that we owe it to this illustrious
source.'
'Now, aunt,' exclaims Owen, 'never mention the Payne Perrys again. Why,
you cannot light a candle to us. I am sure your Herefordshire Perry
can't date back to the conquest, and here are we long before it. What
date, uncle?'
'720, Owen. And I wish you, as the eldest son, would begin to write your
name in the proper way. I contemn, absolutely, this altering our fine
old language into that jargon of Anglo-Saxon, Danish, Norman, and
French, now yclept English.
'Very well, uncle, let us spell it R, H, Y, D, D, R, C, H,--eight
consonants without the aid of one single vowel. I declare the very name
is courage itself,--no auxiliary forces. Gladys, I beg you will always
sign yourself so when you write to Mrs Jones; and be sure you spell your
own name as it ought to be spelt,--G, W, L, A, D, Y, S. Even this shows
the weakness of the female sex; you do require one little vowel to help
along the consonants,'
'Ha, ha, ha!' shouts Mr Prothero, 'he has you now, brother Jo.
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