Nothing, except counting your stamps, can be more pleasant and exciting
than tracing out the origin of words by the aid of a second-hand
dictionary. It's the next funniest thing to grubbing after stumps in a
ten-acre lot. Dentists make capital philologists--: they are so much
accustomed to digging for roots. It's rather dull work to shovel around
in the Anglo-Saxon stratum, but, as soon as you strike the Sanscrit,
then you're off, and if you don't find big nuggets, it's because--well,
it's because there are none there. Sometimes you dig down to about the
time when NOAH went on his little sailing excursion, and strike what
seems to be a first-class sockdolager of root, but what is the use?
Unfortunately the philology business is overdone; it's chock full of
first-class broken down pedagogues and unsuccessful ink-slingers, and,
as soon as you offer a curious specimen in the way of roots, they write
a book to prove that the root don't exist, or, if it does, that it
should not.
However, there is an advantage in knowing the roots of words, and the
use to which they were put in former years. Everybody, you know, is very
anxious to read CHAUCER and SPENSER. Now, after you have studied this
subject about forty-two years, you will be able to read CHAUCER with the
aid of an old English dictionary and an Anglo-Saxon grammar.
Many so-called philologists, who have preceded me, have ignorantly
derived words from improper sources. Thus, the compound word, shoofly,
has been traced by some to the Irish word _shoe_, meaning a
hoof-covering, and the French word _fly_, meaning an insect, when it is
apparent to even the casual observer that it comes from the Guinea word
_shoo_, meaning get out, and the English word _fly_, meaning a tripe
destroyer. I propose, therefore, to show you the origin of a few words,
in order that you may use them properly, and in order that you may
subscribe freely for my book on this subject, which will shortly be
placed before an admiring public.
_Theatres_. When the players were servants of the king, they were
compelled to be proficient in reading, riting, rithmetic, rhyming,
riddling, reciting, rehearsing, and romping. These accomplishments were
grouped together and called _the 8 r's_, which name naturally enough was
soon applied to the play-houses. This example shows how simple the whole
subject is, and how easily the philology business could he run by a
child six years of age.
_Country_. The origin of this word is, to say the least, odd. City
people were accustomed to visit the rural districts at about the time
when rye was ripe, and they were generally amused by the farmer's
pereginations around his rye. Farmers always count rye-stacks in the
morning, in order to discover whether any of them have been lifted
during the night. When, upon their return to the City, the visitors were
asked where they had been, they facetiously replied, "To count rye."
This soon became a favorite expression; the "e" was dropped for euphony,
and the rural districts were called country.
_Spittoon_.--This word comes from the Greek word _spit_, meaning to
slobber, and the Scotch word, _tune_, meaning the noise made by the
bag-pipes. As the saliva struck the receptacle it made a noise
delightful to the ears of the smoker, and resembling the note of the
national instrument of Scotland. Hence the receptacle was called the
spittoon.
_Politics_.--Quack philologists, who evidently were insane, have gone
back to the classics for the root of this word, when it is well known
that immediately after the termination of the Revolution, when the
Government of this country was about to be settled, the word came into
existence. A woman, called POLLY, kept a corner grocery in New York, and
all the fellows who wanted offices were accustomed to go to POLLY'S for
their beer, because she trusted. Here they usually divulged their ideas
of the manner in which the Government machine should be run. When asked
why they went to that store, they always answered, "POLLY ticks."
Outsiders, when asked what was going on in POLLY's store, always
answered with a wise look, "POLLY ticks." The words soon spread, and
talking about the Government was facetiously called POLLY ticks. The
expression was finally used in earnest, and, by euphoric changes,
reached its present shape.
_Cheese-it_.--This compound word has by some silly person been traced to
the Saxon _cyse_, meaning condensed cow, and the Celtic _it_, meaning
it. Now every way-faring man, even though _non compos mentis_, knows
that when he is invited to come in and cut a cheese, come in and take a
drop of whiskey is meant. This word, then, is derived from the Sanscrit
_cheese_, meaning drop, and the English _it_, meaning whatever you may
happen to be saying, and the whole expression may be properly translated
"drop that yarn."
I might go on straight through the Dictionary, but I refrain, desiring
only to show you what a light and entertaining subject philology is, and
what quantities of fun you can get out of it on winter evenings.
If any one should desire to pursue this subject further, let him go
through CHAUCER, SPENSER, SHAKSPEARE, and MILTON with a fine-tooth comb
and a pair of spectacles, looking for roots, and then try my book on
"Words and their Uses." He had better not attack the latter work on an
empty stomach. An empty head will be more appropriate.
* * * * *
The Mendicant Mission.
Two fresh rumors about that unfortunate English Mission are afloat. One
is that it has been tendered to the Hon. HENRY T. BLOW; the other is
that the--well, no, not exactly Hon.--DAN. SICKLES is to be transferred
from Madrid to the Court of St. JAMES. 'Tis much the same thing. If BLOW
is appointed, it's BLOW; and if SICKLES is appointed, it's Blow, too.
* * * * *
Military Intelligence.
The Fifth Regiment N.G.S.N.Y., composed altogether of Germans, have
adopted the Prussian helmet with a spike on top. This is appropriate, as
most Germans are linguists, and like to "spike the French."
* * * * *
Where to Commence the Civil Service Reform.
In our Hotels and Restaurants.
* * * * *