A Name to be Proud of

Now that it is fully decided I am to journey with my father to that far-away world called America, it seems right I should set down, as far as may be possible, all which befalls me from the time we leave dear old England, and then, if so be I never come back from the wonderful adventure because of having met death, people will know there was once an English lad, by name Calvert, who, much the same as taking his life in his hands, went overseas to the strange country where, it is said, none but savages dwell.

Yes, my name is Calvert, and I am proud of it because it was given me by the first Lord Baltimore, near to thirteen years ago, when he stood my godfather.

As of course you know, the family name of the Baltimores is Calvert, and the old, lord was George of that line; but there are so many Georges in this world that no one could have picked me out from a crowd simply by hearing my name, whereas, when a person calls another "Calvert," people prick up their ears, wondering whether it be one of the Baltimores who is addressed, which is much to my liking.

The young lord, Cecilius, who has but lately come into the title through the death of his father, is a near friend of my father, and it was because of his fair words and promises that I am waiting here in an inn near the waterside of our goodly city of London, until word shall be sent that I may go on board the ship Ark, which lies at anchor close by.

Do you remember that in the year of grace, 1627, Lord Baltimore and I am now speaking of the old lord, George Calvert had a colony in that part of America called Newfoundland, and that' he visited it in order to learn why the tenants were displeased with the land? Well, it was in this selfsame ship Ark that he journeyed.