Hector Hugh Munro (Saki), The Talking-Out of Tarrington
'My name is Tarrington,' resumed the candidate for recognition.
'A very useful kind of name,' said Clovis; 'with a name of that sort no one would blame you if you did nothing in particular heroic or remarkable, would they? And yet if you were to raise a troop of light horse in a moment of national emergency, "Tarrington's Light Horse" would sound quite appropriate and pulse-quickening; whereas if you were called Spoopin, for instance, the thing would be out of the question. No one, even in a moment of national emergency, could possibly belong to Spoopin's Horse.'
The new-comer smiled weakly, as one who is not to be put off by mere flippancy, and began again with patient persistence:
'I think you ought to remember my name —'
'I shall,' said Clovis, with an air of immense sincerity. 'My aunt was asking me only this morning to suggest names for four young owls she's just had sent her as pets. I shall call them all Tarrington; then if one or two of them die or fly away, or leave us in any of the ways that pet owls are prone to, there will be always one or two left to carry on your name. And my aunt won't let me forget it; she will always be asking "Have the Tarringtons had their mice?" and questions of that sort.'
Charles Dickens, Little Dorrit
, Book II, Chap. 17:
One of the servants of the hotel presented himself bearing a card. Mr Dorrit, taking it, read:
The servant waited in speechless deference.
'Man, man,' said Mr Dorrit, turning upon him with grievous indignation, 'explain your motive in bringing me this ridiculous name. I am wholly unacquainted with it. Finching, sir?'
Matthew Arnold, The Function of Criticism at the Present Time
Wragg! If we are to talk of ideal perfection, of 'the best in the whole world,' has anyone reflected what a touch of grossness in our race, what an original shortcoming in the more delicate spiritual perceptions, is shown by the natural growth amongst us of such hideous names, — Higginbottom, Stiggins, Bugg!