Promptly Mr. Conant wrote it down. "I'll give this one two stars," he
said.
And still there were more letters and more names--_Gale Winds_ and _Rip
Tide_ and _Sea Wings_ and _Ocean Mist_ and _Misty's Shadow_ and _Mini
Mist_ and _Foggy_ and _Cloudy_--until at last they were down to one
letter.
Grandpa loosened his suspenders, yawning and stretching. "Out with that
last one, Idy. Sandman's workin' on me, both barrels."
Grandma's face lighted with pleasure. "Why, it's signed by a whole
bunch of school children over to Reistertown, Maryland." She adjusted
her spectacles and began:
"_Our class read the book about Misty. Now we are reading about the
awful storm that flooded your island. We are glad Misty was not
drowned. As soon as we heard the news about her colt, we decided to
write you. We think you should name her 'Stormy' because she was
born in a storm. Would you like that? We would. We had a secret
ballot, and 'Stormy' won first place with twenty votes._"
Paul drew in his breath. "That does it!" he said. "Remember, Maureen?
Sometimes they name 'em for markings, sometimes for ancestors, and the
third way is for natural phenom ... happenings of Nature."
"Like the storm?"
"Exactly." Paul got up from the table and spoke now in great
seriousness. "Mr. Conant, how many votes do we have for _Stormy_?"
"Twenty-two, Paul."
"All those in favor of _Stormy_ please say Aye."
The Ayes were loud and clear.
Maureen heaved a great sigh. "Oh, Paul, now we can fill in the
announcements."
_Chapter 23_