Huz and Buz

1900

In one of the hill towns of Connecticut Parson Fuller, an eccentric minister of a century ago, is still a living tradition. He was rather austere in voice and manner, and quite imperious enough to suit his sacred profession at a time when a New England minister was expected to be the autocrat of his parish.

A larger church edifice had lately been built, and it happened that the first children to be "presented" in the new meeting-house were the twin baby boys of Mr. and Mrs. Timothy Green. The happy couple felt the distinction of standing at the head of the record, and made every fond preparation.

Mrs. Green, while not exactly a literary woman, conceived herself a little superior to her neighbors on account of the number of books she had read. She had made up her mind what her little boys should be called, and at the appointed time she and her husband and the twins appeared before the minister, ready for the public ceremony.

"What are their names?" asked Parson Fuller, looking at the two infants.

Mrs. Green had carefully conned her lesson, but now she wished she had written it down. The eyes of the congregation were upon her. She was so overawed that she pronounced the names in a half whisper.

"Augustus Gerard Green and Gustavus Gerald Green."

"Speak louder, madam," said the minister.

A glance at her bashful husband convinced the flustered woman that any vocal attempt on his part would be less articulate than her own. Making a brave effort, therefore, she repeated the names.

"Augustus Gerard Green and Gustavus Gerald Green."

"Nonsense, good woman!" said the stern old man, loud enough to be heard by the whole congregation. "These helpless little creatures must not begin life with such a burden. I will christen them out of the Bible, after the two nephews of Abraham."

And christen them he did, with the names of Nahor's sons, "Huz his first-born, and Buz his brother."

The mortified young parents, after a season of secret rebellion, submitted to the inevitable, realizing that, as the matter stood, "Huz" and "Buz" would stick to the boys beyond recall. Indeed, it is asserted that the queer names became such a "drawing card" for the Green family that not only curious visitors rode long distances to see the twins, but a leading citizen of the next town hired Timothy to run his grist-mill, and his wife to keep school in the mill-chamber. Huz and Buz would attract customers to the combination, he said.

And so it proved. The prosperity and popularity of the father and mother increased apace, we are told, and the twin boys grew to be respected and useful men. One survived the other to old age, but the single stone — now crumbled away — that marked both their graves in the country burial-ground bore, besides the dates, only the simple inscription: "Huz Green, and Buz his brother." — Youth's Companion.