8. Gammoning Academy.—A reformatory.

Acause, conj. (vulgar).—A corruption of ‘because.’

Accommodation House, subs. (popular).—A brothel. Also frequently

applied to what in police court phraseology are known as disorderly

houses, i.e., houses where rooms can be hired for shorter or longer

periods as desired.—See Bed house.

According to Cocker.—See Cocker.

According to the Revised Statutes.—See Revised statutes.

Account. To go on the account, verb. phr. (old nautical).—To join in a

fillibustering or buccaneering expedition; to turn pirate. Ogilvie

says, probably from the parties sharing, as in a commercial venture.

1812. Scott, Letter to a Friend. I hope it is no new thing for

gentlemen of fortune who are going on the account to change a

captain now and then.

To account for (sporting).—To kill; literally to be answerable for

bringing down one’s share of the shooting; to make away with.

1846–48. Thackeray, Vanity Fair, ch. xx. The persecuted animals

[rats] bolted above ground: the terrier accounted for one, the

keeper for another.

1858. Letter from Lahore, 28 September, in Times, 19 November. In

the course of one week they were hunted up and accounted for; and

you know that in Punjab phraseology accounting for means the

extreme fate due to mutineers. [M.]

Accounts. To cast up one’s accounts, verb. phr. (old cant).—To vomit.

Still common; quoted by Grose [1785]. The expression sometimes runs,

amongst seafaring men, to audit one’s accounts at the Court of Neptune.

Eng. Synonyms. To shoot the cat; to cat.

French Synonyms. Semer des miettes (lit. to sow or scatter crumbs);

piquer le renard (lit. to goad the fox). Cf. ‘to shoot the cat.’ The

old French phrase was chasser or escorcher le renard, either because,

says Cotgrave, ‘in spueing one makes a noise like a fox that barks, or

because the flaying of so unsavory an animal will make any man spue’;

renverser (lit. to overturn, to upset); faire restitution (lit. to make

amends; to restore); revoir la carte (lit. to look at the bill of fare

again).

(Thieves’).—To turn Queen’s evidence.

Accumulatives, subs. (American).—These journalistic sparring matches

are essentially a ‘Yankee notion.’ In England they are called codicils

(q.v.), under which see an amusing example which will illustrate their

character, as also the length to which American editors sometimes go in

heaping Ossa upon Pelion.

Accumulator, subs. (racing).—A bettor, who when successful with one

horse, carries forward the stakes to another event.

Ace of Spades, subs. phr. (old).—A widow. Though obsolete in England,

it is quoted by the New York Slang Dictionary (1881) as still current

in America.

Ack, intj. (Christ’s Hospital).—No! refusal of a request, e.g., ‘Lend

me your book.’ ‘Ack!’

Ackman, Ackpirate (old), Or Ackruff (American), subs.—A freshwater

thief; a ruffian who in conjunction with watermen robs and sometimes

murders on the water. [Ack (unknown derivation, unless a corrupted form

of ark, a boat; or wherry) + man, etc.] Quoted by Grose [1785], and

also by Clark Russell, in Sailor’s Language [1883].

Acknowledge the Corn, verb. phr. (American).—To make an admission of

failure; to admit being outwitted. The various stories professing to

account for derivation are discussed in detail in Americanisms, Old and

New: the most circumstantial and certainly the best authenticated, runs

as follows:—In 1828, the Hon. Andrew Stewart was in Congress discussing

the principle of ‘Protection,’ and said in the course of his remarks,

that Ohio, Indiana, and Kentucky sent their haystacks, cornfields, and

fodder to New York and Philadelphia for sale. The Hon. Charles A.

Wickliffe, from Kentucky, jumped up and said, ‘Why that is absurd; Mr.

Speaker, I call the gentleman to order. He is stating an absurdity. We

never send haystacks or cornfields to New York or Philadelphia.’ ‘Well,

what do you send?’ ‘Why, horses, mules, cattle, hogs.’ ‘Well, what

makes your horses, mules, cattle, hogs? You feed a hundred dollars’

worth of hay to a horse, you just animate and get upon the top of your

haystack and ride off to market. How is it with your cattle? You make

one of them carry fifty dollars’ worth of hay and grass to the Eastern

market. Mr. Wickliffe, you send a hog worth ten dollars to an Eastern

market; how much corn does it take at thirty-three cents per bushel to

fatten it?’ ‘Why, thirty bushels!’ ‘Then you put that thirty bushels of

corn into the shape of a hog, and make it walk off to the Eastern

market.’ Mr. Wickliffe jumped up and said: ‘Mr. Speaker, I acknowledge

the corn.’ [De Vere’s Americanisms [1872] p. 47.] Latterly the

expression has been used in England in the sense of simply to make an

admission.

1860. Haliburton (Sam Slick), The Season Ticket, No. 9. ‘He had a

beard that wouldn’t acknowledge the corn to no man’s.’

1865. Bacon, Handbook of America, p. 361. Acknowledge the corn, to

confess a charge or imputation.

1883. G. A. Sala, Living London, p. 97. Mr. Porter acknowledges the

corn as regards his fourteen days’ imprisonment, and is forgiven by

his loving consort.

Acorn. A horse foaled of an acorn, subs. phr. (old).—The gallows.

Euphemisms for hanging, the ‘tree’ itself, and the victim of the law’s

majesty were, at the time when the death penalty was a common

punishment, both many and curious. A horse foaled of an acorn, is

obviously an allusion to the timber of which the triple tree (q.v.) was

constructed. The widows of those who had suffered the extreme penalty

of the law were termed hempen widows (q.v.); the children of such, or

those likely to meet with death by hanging, hempseed (q.v.); and hempen

fever (q.v.) represented the dread malady itself.

1760–61. Smollett, Sir L. Greaves, ch. viii. I believe as how ’tis

no horse, but a devil incarnate; and yet I’ve been worse mounted,

that I have—I’d like to have rid a horse that was foaled of an

acorn (i.e., he had nearly met with the fate of Absalom).

1827. Lytton, Pelham, ch. lxxxii. ‘The cove ... is as pretty a

Tyburn blossom as ever was brought up to ride a horse foaled by an

acorn.’

1839. Harrison Ainsworth, Jack Sheppard [1889], p. 8. Tom Sheppard

was always a close file, and would never tell whom he married. Of

this I’m certain, however, she was much too good for him.... As to

this little fellow ... he shall never mount a horse foaled by an

acorn, if I can help it.

Acquaintance. To scrape acquaintance, verb. phr. (common).—To make

acquaintance. Probably from ‘bowing and scraping’ to a person, in order

to curry favor.

1698. Farquhar, Love and a Bottle [ed. 1711], p. 5, Lucinda. Pray

good Cæsar, keep off your paws; no scraping acquaintance for

Heaven’s sake.

This phrase has a classical origin, an account of which from the pen of

Dr. Doran, F.S.A., appears in the Gentleman’s Magazine [N.S. xxxix.

230] in an article on ‘The Masters of the Roman World during the

Happiest Years of the Human Race.’

There is an anecdote connected with Hadrian and the custom of

bathing, from which is derived the proverbial saying of scraping an

acquaintance. The Emperor, entering a bath, saw an old soldier

scraping himself with a tile. He recognised the man as a former

comrade—his memory on such points never failed him—and, pitying his

condition that he had nothing better than a tile for a flesh-brush,

he ordered the veteran to be presented with a considerable sum of

money, and a costly set of bathing garments. Thereupon all the old

soldiers of the Imperial Army became as anxious to claim fellowship

with the Emperor as the Kirkpatricks of Great Britain and Ireland

are proudly eager to establish kinship with the Empress of the

French. As Hadrian entered the bath the day after that on which he

had rewarded his former comrade, he observed dozens of old soldiers

scraping themselves with tiles. He understood the intent, but

wittily evaded it. ‘Scrape one another, gentlemen,’ said he, ‘you

will not scrape acquaintance with me!’

Acquisitive, subs. (American).—Plunder; booty; pickings. A noun formed

from the adjective.

Acreocracy, subs. (common).—The landed interest. Possibly of American

coinage [of simulated Greek formation, from English acre + Greek

κρατέω, to hold sway or to govern]. Compare with democracy, mobocracy,

aristocracy, etc.

1878. Hallberger’s Illustrated Magazine, p. 622. The introduction

of a plutocracy among the aristocracy and the acreocracy though it

has tended somewhat to vulgarize our social institutions, etc.

Acres, subs. (theatrical).—A coward. From Bob Acres, in Sheridan’s

Rivals [1775]; here the character part is of a blusterer, one who talks

big, but when put to the push, to use his own words, ‘his courage

always oozed out of his finger ends.’ Cf., Abigail for a waiting maid;

Samson for a strong man; Job for a monument of patience, and others.

Across Lots. To go across lots, verb. phr.—To proceed by the shortest

route; similarly to do anything in the most expeditious manner. The

phrase had its rise in the natural tendency of settlers, in

thinly-populated districts, to shorten the distance from point to point

by leaving the road and striking across vacant lots. Brigham Young

familiarized its idiomatic use in the now notoriously historic saying

attributed to that ‘Saint,’—‘We’ll send them (the Gentiles) to hell

across lots.’

1848. Lowell, Biglow Papers.

Past noontime they went trampin’ round

An’ nary thing to pop at found,

Till, fairly tired o’ their spree,

They leaned their guns agin a tree,

An’ jest ez they wuz settin’ down

To take their noonin’, Joe looked roun’

And see (acrost lots in a pond

That warn’t mor’n twenty rod beyond),

A goose that on the water sot

Ez ef awaitin’ to be shot.

1854. J. C. Neal, Charcoal Sketches, i., p. 35 [to a

grumbler]:—‘You would cut across the lot, like a streak of

lightning, if you had a chance.’

1887. Scribner’s Magazine. ‘I didn’t see Crossby go by, did you?’

‘He’d have had to foot it by the path cross-lots, replied Ezra,

gravely, from the doorstep.’

Acteon, subs. (old).—A cuckold; from the horns planted on the head of

Acteon by Diana.

Acting the Deceitful, verb. phr. (old theatrical).—Performing; mumming;

acting.—Duncombe.

Active Citizen, subs. (popular).—A louse. For synonyms, see Chates.

Act of Parliament, subs. (old).—A military term for small beer, five

pints of which, by an Act of Parliament, a landlord was formerly

obliged to give gratis to each soldier billetted upon him. For

synonyms, see Cold blood.

Actual. The actual, subs. (popular).—Money, when spoken of

collectively. The fact of the existence of innumerable synonyms for the

‘modern staff of life’ goes far to bear out the latter-day contention

that it is not the ‘evil’ itself [‘money is the root of all evil’—Old

Saw] but the lack of it that is to be deplored. The central idea

enshrined in many of these terms will well repay comparative study, a

vein of subtle, and sometimes grim humor and pathos running through not

a few of them. This applies equally to English slang, and to the

French, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese argots. Compare for example

the English ‘feathers’ with the Spanish amigos (friends), the Italian

agresto (sour grapes), and the French du foin (hay), or de l’os (bone),

and obviously many a new side-light upon national habits and modes of

thought may be obtained therefrom. The English and French, the two

nations whose slang vocabularies are by far the most copious extant,

have respectively upwards of 130 and 50 synonymous terms for money. The

generic names are as follows:—

Eng. Synonyms. Ballast; beans; blunt (i.e., specie,—not soft, or rags,

i.e., bank-notes); brads; brass; bustle; coal; coppers (copper money,

or mixed pence); chink; chinkers; chips; corks; dibs; dimmock; dinarly;

dirt; dooteroomus (or doot); dumps; dust; dye stuffs; feathers; family

plate (silver); dollars; gent (silver,—from argent); gilt; haddock (a

purse of money); hard stuff (or hard); horse nails; huckster; John;

John Davis; loaver; lour (the oldest cant term for money); mopusses;

muck; needful; nothings (money collected in a hat by

street-performers); ochre (gold); oof; ooftish; pewter; palm oil;

pieces; posh; queen’s pictures; quids; rags (bank-notes); ready; ready

gilt; ready John; redge (gold); rhino; rowdy; shadscales (or scales);

shot; shekels; sinews of war; shiners (sovereigns); shin plasters (or

plasters); skin (a purse of money); Spanish; spondulics; stamps; stiff

(cheques, or bills of acceptance); stuff; stumpy; tin (silver); tow;

wad; wedge (silver); wherewith; and yellow-boys (sovereigns). In the

17th century money was often called ‘shells’—is this the origin of ‘to

shell out’?—and ‘Oil of Angels’ (q.v.).

French Argot. De l’artiche (thieves’: retirer de l’artiche, is to pick

the pockets of a drunkard); du morningue; du foin (lit. hay); du plâtre

(thieves’: lit. plaster); du poussier (thieves’: lit. coal-dust; Cf.,

English ‘coal’ and ‘dust’); des soldats (thieves’: Falstaff, in Merry

Wives of Windsor, ii., 2, says ‘money is a good soldier’); de la

mornifle (this thieves’ term for money, whether good or counterfeit,

originally signified false money only; there is a grim suggestiveness

between the orthodox meaning of the word, ‘a slap on the face,’ and its

slang signification); de la sauvette (also a basket used by rag-pickers

and collectors of street refuse); de l’huile (lit. oil); du beurre

(pop.: lit. butter); de la braise (pop.: ma braise is a term of

endearment among the Lyonnais, and is equivalent to mon trésor, my

treasure); du bath (thieves’: the tip-top; the excellent. From a

superior kind of Bath note paper, which, in 1848, was hawked about the

streets of Paris, and sold at a low price. Thus papier bath became

synonymous with excellent paper. In a short time the qualifying term

alone remained, and received a general application.—Argot and Slang);

du graissage (pop.: lit. grease, Cf., ‘palm oil,’ and ‘greasing the

palm’ in English slang); de la thune (thieves’: in old French cant the

Roi de la Thune was the king of the beggars, and the old prison of

Bicêtre, where free board and lodging was provided for many of the

fraternity, was called La Thune. It is easy to see why the name of a

place, where beggars congregated in considerable numbers and received

relief, should pass into use to signify pecuniary alms); de la miche de

profonde (pop. and thieves’: this exactly corresponds to the English

‘loaver’); de l’oignon pèse (pop.: lit. heavy onion. Cf., Fourbesque

argume); du sable (pop.: lit. sand); des pimpions (thieves’: Qy., from

pimpant, fine, spruce, smart); de l’os (familiar: lit. bone); du nerf

(lit. sinew. Cf., English ‘sinews of war’); des pepettes (pop.:

pepette, a coin of the value of fifty centimes); des achetoires (pop.:

from acheter, to buy); de la galette (pop.: lit. sea biscuit); des

picaillons (pop.: probably a corruption of picaron, a Spanish coin); de

ce qui se pousse (pop.: that which pushes itself forward. Cf., English

proverb, ‘It’s money makes the mare to go’); de quoi (pop.: the

wherewithal. Cf., English ‘the needful,’ the ‘ready’), de l’oignon

(pop.: lit. onion. Fourbesque has also argume, lit. in Italian, an

onion); de l’oseille (pop.: lit. sorrel); de la douille (thieves’ and

pop.: from a kind of large fig much esteemed in Paris); des jaunets

(lit. buttercups. Cf., English ‘yellow-boys’); des sous (lit. pence);

de la graisse (pop. and thieves’: lit. ‘grease.’ Cf., palm oil); de

l’affare (a thieves’ term, probably from the argotic verb affurer, to

cheat, steal, or deceive); du metal (lit. metal); du zinc (lit. zinc);

du pèze (from the Italian pezzo, a piece; Spanish peso, a silver coin,

weighing an ounce); du pedzale; des noyaux (popular); des sonnettes

plombes (plomb = lead); des sonnettes (lit. bells. Cf., English

‘chinkers’); du quantum (from the Latin); du gras (lit. fat); de

l’atout (lit. trumps in cards); de l’huile de main (lit. hand oil, the

English ‘palm grease’); des patards (obsolete copper coins, value ¼d.;

now applied particularly to a two-sous piece, and to money generally);

de la vaisselle de poche (lit. pocket plate: vaisselle = gold and

silver plate); du carme (from the game of Trictrac); de la pécune (lit.

cash); des ronds (lit. circles; from the shape of coins); de la bille

(from billon); du “sine quâ non” (from the Latin; meaning obvious); du

sit nomen (from the Latin); quibus (an abbreviation of quibus fiunt

omnia).

Italian Fourbesque. Agresto (lit. sour grapes); albume (lit. white of

egg), argume (lit. onions); asta, asti (from Ital. asta, a staff);

contramaglia (silver money); brunotti (lit. brownish); penne (lit.

feathers); smilzi (from Ital. smilzi = menu); squame (lit. chips or

scales).

Spanish Germania. Amigos (lit. friends); florin (here can be traced the

Spanish connection with the Netherlands); sangre (lit. blood).

Portuguese Calão.—Parne.

German Synonyms (Gaunersprache).—See Gilt.

Ad., Adver. subs. (printers’).—An abbreviated form of ‘advertisement.’

1854. Dickens, Household Words, xiii., 9. The really interesting

ads are in the body of the paper.

1888. New York Times, Ap. 6.

[The country editor’s wife—] ... reads the ads with the editor,

Just to find what each has paid.

‘But the column ad of the jeweller, there,’

So he says, ‘and the harness, and human hair,

Must be taken out in trade!’

She wears the corsets he gets for ads,

And rattles his sewing machine;

She uses the butter, and cups, and things,

The country subscriber so faithfully brings,

With a cheerfulness seldom seen.

Adam, subs. (old).—A sergeant or bailiff; a master man or foreman. Now

used by thieves in the sense of an accomplice. Explained by

commentators as a reference to the fact that the buff worn by a bailiff

resembled the native buff worn by our first parent, or from his keeping

the garden.

1598. Shakspeare, Comedy of Errors, iv., 3. Ant. S.... What Adam

dost thou mean? Dro. S. Not that Adam that kept the Paradise, but

that Adam that keeps the prison: he that goes into the calf-skin

that was killed for the prodigal.

1848. Sinks of London Laid Open, p. 96. Adam, a henchman, an

accomplice.

Adam’s Ale, or sometimes simply Adam, and in Scotland Adam’s Wine.—A

colloquialism of long standing for water, humorously suggesting that

anything stronger was unknown to our first parents. Duncombe wittily

adds a comment that our first father’s drink is best with brandy. This

also would appear to be the view taken in most of the French and German

equivalents.

Eng. Synonyms. Fish broth; aqua pompaginis.

French. Anisette de barbillon (a popular term); essence de parapluie

(popular: lit. essence of umbrella); l’Adam’s ale (a literal

translation of the English term); limonade (popular: a caustic comment

surely upon the virtues of lemonade); lance (popular and thieves’: this

term also does duty for ‘rain’; properly written l’ance, derived from

the Spanish Germania ansia, itself an abbreviation of angustia, an

allusion to the employment of water as a means of torture); sirop or

ratafia de grenouilles (popular: lit. syrup of frogs); sirop de

l’aiguière (popular: lit. pitcher syrup); sirop de baromètre (popular,

barometer syrup).

German Gaunersprache. Gänsewein (lit. goose-wine).

Italian Fourbesque. Lenza (the remarks on French lance quoted above,

apply equally here).

1643. Prynne, Sov. Power of Parl., II., 32. They have been shut up

in prisons and dungeons ... allowed onely a poore pittance of

Adam’s ale, and scarce a penny bread a day to support their lives.

[M.]

1786–9. Wolcot [P. Pindar], Lousiad, c. ii., line 453.

Old Adam’s beverage flows with pride,

From wide-mouth’d pitchers, in a plenteous tide.

1884. Daily Telegraph, April 1, p. 5, col. 2. The spectral banquet

graced now only by Adam’s ale, or the sick-room toast and water.

1886. John Coleman, Elfie, pt. I., ch. ii. For my part, I stuck to

Adam’s ale, which Elfie brought from the spring.

Adam Tiler, subs. (old slang).—A pickpocket’s associate; one who

receives stolen goods, and then runs off with them. [From Adam, an

accomplice + tiler, a watchman. Cf., Masonic term.] For synonyms, see

Fence.

Added to the List (racing).—An abbreviation of ‘added to the list of

geldings in training.’ Among French thieves, désatiller is the term

employed to signify castration; or, where the operation is performed

upon a man, abélardiser, i.e., to mutilate a man, as Chanoine Fulbert

mutilated Abélard, the lover of his daughter or niece, Héloise.

Addition, subs. (old).—A term for various toilet requisites, used by

women; such as paint, rouge, powder, etc.

1704. Centlivre, Platonick Love, Act iii., Scene 1. Milliner. Be

pleased to put on the addition madam. Mrs. Dowdy. What does she

mean now? to pull my skin off, mehap, next. Ha, Peeper, are these

your London fashions? Peeper. No, no, addition is only paint,

madam.

Addition, Division, and Silence! phr. (American).—A Philadelphia

expression, which, for a time, had a vogue as a catch phrase. It is

properly rendered multiplication, division, and silence! William M.

Tweed, or as he is more familiarly known ‘Boss’ Tweed, is generally

credited with this expression. Being asked what in his view was the

proper qualification for a member of a ring or trust, in which all play

into each other’s hands for mutual advantages, he replied

multiplication, division, and silence!

Addle Cove, subs. (common).—A foolish man; an easy dupe; literally, a

rank sucker (q.v.), and equivalent to addle-head, addle-pate,

addle-plot, all of which are common dictionary words. Why Barrère and

Hotten have followed the lead of Grose in classing these words as slang

is hardly clear. Dialectical they may have been, but all English was

similarly placed prior to the 15th century, and the first reference

given by Murray, bears the date of A.D. 1250.

Adept, subs. (thieves’).—An expert amongst the light-fingered gentry.

It is quite an open question whether adept, even in a thief’s sense,

can fairly be classed as slang, the meaning being obviously identical

with that commonly attached to the word.

Adjective Jerker, subs. phr. (literary).—A term of derision applied,

like ink-slinger (q.v.), to those who write for the press. The special

allusion in the present case is doubtless to the want of discrimination

which young writers, and reporters on low-class papers, often exhibit

in the use of a plethora of adjectives to qualify a simple statement of

fact.

1888. St. Louis Globe Democrat, April 29. Genevieve spent four

hours last night in constructing a three-line letter, which she

sent to an adjective jerker on a society weekly, and in which she

said she would spend the summer months in the Rocky Mountains.

Adjutant’s Gig, subs. phr. (military).—The barrack roller. Men under

punishment are generally put to the task of drawing this machine.

Admiral. To tap the Admiral, verb phr. (nautical).—A practice otherwise

known as ‘sucking the monkey.’ Explained in Peter Simple as having

originally been used amongst sailors for drinking rum out of cocoa nuts

from which the milk had been extracted and replaced by spirits, an

evasion of the regulation prohibiting the purchase of ardent liquors

when on shore in the tropics. The Germans have an analogous expression

Den affen saugen, to ‘suck the monkey,’ with the same signification.

Nowadays it is applied to drinking on the sly from a cask by inserting

a straw through a gimlet hole, and to drinking generally.

1837. Barham, Ingoldsby Legends (the Black Mousquetaire).

What the vulgar call sucking the monkey,

Has much less effect on a man when he’s funky.

Admiral of the Blue, subs. phr. (old).—A publican or tapster; from the

colour of his apron; now obsolete. Cf., Admiral of the red.

1731. Poor Robin [Pseudonym of Robert Herrick] Almanac.

As soon as customers begin to stir,

The admiral of the blue, cries, ‘Coming, sir!’

Or if grown fat, the mate his place supplies;

And says, ’tis not my master’s time to rise.

Of all our trades, the tapster is the best,

He has more men at work than all the rest.

Admiral of the Narrow Seas, subs. phr. (nautical).—A man who, under

drink, vomits into the lap of his neighbour or vis-à-vis.

Admiral of the Red, subs. phr. (popular).—A wine-bibber; one whose face

by its redness bears evidence of a fondness for the bottle. Formerly

the highest rank of naval officers was divided into three grades or

classes denominated from the colours hoisted by them, Admirals of the

Red, White, or Blue squadron. Now there are four grades; Admiral of the

Fleet, Admiral, Vice-admiral, and Rear-admiral. The French call the

bottle or copper-nose possessed by admirals of the red betterave (lit.

a beetroot); also un piton passé à l’encaustique; and un piffard. Cf.,

Admiral of the blue.

Admiral of the White, subs. phr. (familiar).—Quoted as ‘a white-faced

person; a coward; a woman in a faint.’ Rarely heard, and at best but an

extremely weak imitation of kindred phrases, to wit, admiral of the

blue, and admiral of the red.

Admirals of the Red, White, and Blue, subs. phr. (familiar).—Beadles;

hall-porters; and such-like functionaries when sporting their gorgeous

liveries of office.

Adonize, verb. (rare). [French adoniser; from adonis + ize].—To make

beautiful or attractive; to adorn oneself with a view of attracting

admiration; said only of men.

1818. S. E. Ferrier, Marriage, ch. ix. ‘Venus and the Graces, by

Jove!’ exclaimed Sir Sampson, bowing with an air of gallantry; ‘and

now I must go and adonize a little myself.’ The company then

separated to perform the important offices of the toilette.

1850. F. E. Smedley, Frank Fairleigh, ch. xl. ‘He positively

refused to face the ladies till he had changed his shooting

costume, so I left him up at the hall to adonize.’

Adsum, verb. (Charterhouse).—The response made in answering to

names-calling.

1855. Thackeray, The Newcomes, p. 774. ‘At the usual evening hour

the chapel bell began to toll, and Thomas Newcome’s hands outside

the bed feebly beat time. And just as the last bell struck, a

peculiar sweet smile shone over his face and he lifted up his head

a little, and quickly said, ‘adsum,’ and fell back. It was the word

we used at school when names were called; and lo, he whose heart

was as that of a little child had answered to his name, and stood

in the presence of the Master.’

Adullamites, subs. (parliamentary).—A nickname, in the first instance,

for a party of seceding Liberals, namely, Messrs. Horsman, Lowe, Earl

Grosvenor, Lord Elcho, etc., who in 1866 voted with the Tories, when

Earl Russell and Mr. Gladstone introduced a measure for the extension

of the Franchise. In the debate on the 30th March John Bright said they

had agreed to draw back into a political cave of adullam. The reference

is to those who, with King David, took refuge in the cave of adullam (1

Sam. xxii., 1). The political party in question were also known

collectively as ‘The Cave.’

1878–80. Justin McCarthy, History of Our Own Times, p. 142. The

little third party were at once christened the adullamites, and the

name still survives and is likely long to survive its old political

history. Ibid., p. 143. The wild cheers of the Conservatives and

the adullamites showed on which ‘sword sat laurel victory.’ Ibid.,

p. 152. [Lord Derby] had at once invited the leading members of the

adullamite party to accept places in his Administration.

The primary usage has been extended as explained in the following

quotations.

1870. Notes and Queries, March 5, p. 241. The Scriptural ‘cave of

adullam’ has become an adopted byword for a small clique who unite

to obstruct the party with which they usually associate.

1884. New York Times, July 19. The Conservative party then

presented a tolerably solid front against the extension of the

franchise, and received besides a large reinforcement of

adullamites from the Liberal side.

Advance Backward, verb. (American).—A rather odd way of expressing

retrogression.

1888. Chicago Inter-Ocean, Jan. 23. The advice given to his company

by a raw Yankee captain to advance backward, seems paralleled in

the Chicago Tribune of the 18th inst.

Advantage (Californian).—See Pocket advantage.

Æger, subs. (Univ.). Lat. sick.—Same as Ægrotat (q.v.).

1870. Chambers’ Journal, June 18, p. 395. Dick laughed. ‘I’ll get

the receipt from him. I often want a good thing for an Æger.’

1888. H. Smart, in Temple Bar, February, p. 213. ‘Instead of

applying for leave to my tutor, I had resorted to the old device of

pricking Æger.’

Ægrotat, subs. (Univ.).—[L. he is sick, 3rd pers. sing. pres. ind. of

ægrotare, to be sick from ægrotus, sick, from æger, sick]. In English

universities a medical certificate given to a student, showing that he

has been prevented by sickness from attending to his duties, or his

examination; also used for the degree taken by those so excused. Also

called Æger (q.v.).

1794. Gent. Mag., p. 1085. They [at Cambridge] sported an Ægrotat,

and they sported a new coat!

1864. Babbage, Passages from the Life of a Philosopher, 37. I sent

my servant to the apothecary for a thing called an Ægrotat, which I

understood ... meant a certificate that I was indisposed.

Reading ægrotat.—In some universities leave taken, commonly in

December, in order to get time to read for one’s degree.

Affair of Honour, subs. (old).—Killing an innocent man in a duel. This

euphemism was largely in vogue during the Regency days.

Affidavit Men, sub. phr. (old slang), or, as they also used to be

called, Knights of the Post.—False witnesses who attended Westminster

Hall and other Courts of Justice, ready to swear anything for hire;

they were distinguished by having straws stuck in the heels of their

shoes.—See Straw bail under Bail.

Affinity, subs. (American).—A cant term in frequent use amongst

so-called free-lovers. One’s affinity is supposed to be a person of the

opposite sex, for whom an attachment so strong is felt that even if

already married, as more often than not is the case, the husband will

abandon his legitimate wife, and vice versâ, in favour of the new

attraction, or affinity as he or she is called. The argument is

generally only an excuse for unbridled sexual license; indeed, it is

inconceivable that it could be otherwise, except in a society of

seraphs and archangels.

Afflicke, subs. (old).—See quotation.

1610. Rowland’s Martin Mark-all, p. 38 (H. Chub’s Repr., 1874).

Afflicke, a theefe.

Afflictions, subs. (drapers’).—Mourning goods, half-mourning being

designated mitigated afflictions (q.v.).

Affygraphy, subs. (common).—‘It fits to an affygraphy,’ i.e., to a

nicety—to a T; also of time—‘in an affygraphy.’

Afloat, adv. (common).—On the move; en évidence. This term is of

nautical origin.

To have one’s back-teeth well afloat, is to be well-primed with liquor;

in short, to be in one of the many degrees of intoxication.

1888. Missouri Republican, Jan. 25. When sober on the bench Judge

Noonan is a model of all the virtues. On Friday night, however, in

company with Dr. Munford, of Kansas City, ex-Speaker Wood, Mr.

Charles Mead, and several other gentlemen, his honor once more

drank until, as an onlooker put it, his back teeth were well

afloat.

A-Fly, adv. (vulgar).—See Fly.

Afterclap, subs. (American).—An attempt to unjustly extort more in a

bargain or agreement than at first settled upon. [Derived from after +

clap, a blow or shock.] Current in England since the beginning of the

fifteenth century, signifying an unexpected subsequent event; something

happening after an affair is supposed to be at an end.

After-Dinner Man; Afternoon’s Man.—Generally read to mean a tippler;

one given to long potations after the mid-day meal, formerly the most

substantial taken during the twenty-four hours. Smythe Palmer, however,

appears to throw a different gloss upon the term, for he says [N. and

Q., 5 S., viii., 112], Afternoones men—equivalent to after-dinner men.

It was the custom, formerly, to dine in the halls of our Inns of Court

about noon, and those who returned after dinner to work must have been

much devoted to business, or obliged to work at unusual hours by an

excess of it.—See quot. from Earle.

1614. Overbury, A wife, etc. (1638), 196. Make him an afternoones

man.

1621. Burton, Anat. Mel. Democr. to Reader (1657), 44. Bervaldus

will have drunkards, afternoon men, and such as more than

ordinarily delight in drink, to be mad.

1628. Earle, Microcosmography (A Player). Your Innes of Court men

were undone but for him, hee is their chiefe guest and employment,

and the sole businesse that makes them afternoones men.

1830. Dublin Sketch Book. The good Baronet (Sir Francis Burdett)

was not only a foxhunter, but a celebrated after-dinner man. It

must have been a good bout indeed in which he was worsted.

After Four, subs. phr. (Eton).—From 3 to 6 p.m. on half-holidays; 4 to

5 on whole schoolday.

Afternoon Farmer, subs. phr. (popular).—This expression for one who

procrastinates, or who misses an opportunity is, in reality, a

provincialism. It is quoted in more than one of the English Dialect

Society’s Glossaries as a very common phrase for one who is always

behind, i.e., late in preparing his land, in sowing or harvesting his

crops. It is only slang when used figuratively apart from agricultural

pursuits.

After Twelve, subs. phr. (Eton).—From noon till 2 p.m.

1861. Whyte Melville, Good for Nothing, p. 39. I used to visit him

regularly in the dear old college from the after twelve.

Against Collar. To work against collar, verb. phr. (popular).—To battle

or cope with difficulties; ‘to kick against the pricks’; ‘to pull

against the tide.’

1876. C. Hindley, Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack, p. 114. ‘It

is always thought to be a bad plan to let journeymen Cheap Johns

get into debt with their employers. It is bad in two ways, for if

they owe their governors a few pounds, they are working an uphill

game, or against collar, and that don’t suit their book, and it

destroys the independence which is, and always should be, between

the master and the man.’

Against the Grain, adv. phr. (popular).—Against the fibres of the wood;

hence, in opposition to the wish; unwillingly; unpleasantly;

reluctantly. ‘It went against the grain to do it, but I knew I must,’

is a common expression.

1673. Dryden, Amboyna, Act i. Seizing their factories I like well

enough, it has some savour in’t; but for this whoresome cutting of

throats, it goes a little against the grain.

1693. Dryden, Juvenal, i., 202. Though much against the grain

forc’d to retire.

1709. Steele, Tatler, No. 2. Nothing in nature is so ungrateful as

story-telling against the grain, therefore take it as the author

has given it you.

1868. Wilkie Collins, The Moonstone, 1st Period., ch. xi. As I had

promised for them, the other servants followed my lead, sorely

against the grain, of course, but all taking the view that I took.

1884. W. C. Russell, Jack’s Courtship, ch. xxiii. It went against

my grain to leave the poor chap alone.

Agaze, adv. (American thieves’).—Astonished; open-eyed.

Aggerawator, subs. (common); also Haggerawator, both forms being

corruptions of ‘aggravator.’—A lock of hair brought down from the

forehead, well greased, and then twisted in spiral form upon the

temple, either toward the ear, or conversely toward the outer corner of

the eye. This style of dressing the hair was formerly much affected by

costermongers, male and female, and other street folk, but the

‘ornament’ is now rarely seen. It appears to be known among certain

classes in France, especially prostitutes’ bullies.

Eng. Synonyms. Kiss-curls; cobbler’s knots; cow-licks; Newgate knockers

(from a supposed resemblance to the knocker on the prisoner’s door at

Newgate); number sixes; bellropes (being wherewith to draw the belles);

bow-catchers; spit-curls; lovelocks, etc.

French Argot. Des guiches; des rouflaquettes (from being sported by

prostitutes’ bullies), des accroche-cœeurs (lit. heart-hooks).

1836. Dickens, Sketches by Boz, p. 132. His hair carefully twisted

into the outer corner of each eye, till it formed a variety of that

description of semi-curls, usually known as ‘aggerawators.’

From the following they would appear at one time to have formed part of

the personal adornment of women in Australia.

1859. Frank Fowler, Southern Lights and Shadows, p. 38. The ladies

are addicted to ... straw-coloured gloves, and strained hair,

embellished with two or three c’s—aggravators they call

them—running over the temple.

Agility, subs. (low).—A woman who, in mounting a stile, or, when being

swung, exposes more of her person than is usually counted decent, is

said to show her agility. The story told is an absurdly vulgar play

upon words.

Agitate the Communicator! verb. phr. (common).—Ring the bell!

Agitator, subs. (common).—A bell-rope, or knocker.

Agogare, intj. (American thieves’).—Be quick! a warning signal [from

agog].—New York Slang Dictionary.

Agony. To pile up the agony. verbal phr. (popular).—To intensify a

statement or relation by exaggerated or blood-curdling details.

Newspapers pile on the agony when ‘writing up’ murder, divorce, and

other sensations.

1857. C. Bronté, in Mrs. Gaskell’s Life, ch. xxv. What climax there

is does not come on till near the conclusion; and even then, I

doubt whether the regular novel-reader will consider the ‘agony

piled sufficiently high’ (as the Americans say), or the colours

dashed on to the canvas with the proper amount of daring.

1881. W. Black, Beautiful Wretch, ch. vi. ‘Sooner or later that

organ will shake the Cathedral to bits; the vibrations were

fearful. I thought there was a great deal too much noise. You lose

effect when you pile up the agony like that.’

Agony column, subs. phr. (popular).—The second column of the Times;

originally so-called from the fact of its being devoted to

advertisements for missing friends, and private communications, many of

which are of a harrowing character. Most London newspapers, for the

phrase is chiefly local, have now a similar column. Subjoined are a few

examples of these advertisements:—

I am not sure of identity. Are you Juan of 1873? Longing to see

you.—B.

My darling, how often do I say from my heart come and let us reason

together that we may be happy here and live and love for ever. God

bless and spare us to meet again.

Satisfied.—Meet Friday outside Farringdon Street Station, Three

p.m. Have slip paper in coat button-hole.—J. T.

HERBERT WILLIAM BONNETT, who left Bristol on Thursday, Sept. 5, is

REQUESTED to COMMUNICATE at once with his uncle at Keynsham. If any

shipping agent is aware of his taking passage in any boat leaving

England, either London, Liverpool, or elsewhere, please write at once

to Mr. J. D. Coates, Keynsham, near Bristol. All expenses will be paid.

The earliest mention in Murray’s Dictionary is dated 1880, but from the

following quotation it will be seen that the term has been in use for

at least twenty years.

1870. L. Oliphant, Piccadilly, part II., p. 78. The advertisement

of the committee, which appeared in the agony column of the Times,

who wanted to know how I wished the money applied.

1881. W. Black, Beautiful Wretch, ch. xxiii. There were anonymous

appeals to the runaways in agony columns.

Agony Piler, subs. (theatrical).—An actor who performs blood-curdling

parts in sensational plays.

Aground, adv. (common).—Stuck fast; stopped; at a loss; ruined; like a

boat or vessel aground.

Ain’t, sometimes A’N’T, verb. phr. (vulgar).—A corruption for (1) ‘am

not’; (2) ‘are not’; (3) ‘is not.’ This vulgarism appears to be of much

older standing than set down in the New English Dictionary, where the

earliest example is dated 1778.

1710. Swift, Journal to Stella, 24 Nov., Letter ix. I ain’t vexed

at this puppy business of the bishops, although I was a little at

first.

1800. Coleridge, Piccolomini, II., xiii. Ter. Where’s the hurry?

Come, one other composing draught.... Goetz. Excuse me—ain’t able.

Ter. A thimble-full! Goetz. Excuse me.

1835. Dickens, Sketches by Boz, p. 275. ‘You are a clever fellow,

Tottle, ain’t you?’

Air and Exercise, subs. phr. (old).—To have had air and exercise,

signified that one had undergone a whipping at the cart’s tail. About

the beginning of the present century the same operation was termed

shoving the tumbler (q.v.). Among thieves at the present time, air and

exercise means penal servitude; in America it is only applied to a

short term of imprisonment.

Airing, subs. (racing).—When it is not intended that a horse shall win

a race for which it is brought to the starting post, it is said to be

out for an airing.

1889. Evening Standard, June 25 (Sir Chas. Russell’s speech in

Durham-Chetwynd case).—What he (Sir C. Russell) meant was that Sir

G. Chetwynd never did anything so gross and vulgar as that [tell

the jockey to ‘pull’ horses], and that if horses were pulled, that

was not the way in which in any class of turf society instructions

were given. A wink was as good as a nod, and trainers and jockeys,

from various trivial circumstances, very easily gathered whether a

particular horse was only out for an airing, or whether it was on

the job.

Air Line, or Air Line Road (American).—To take the air line; to go

direct, and by the shortest route; idiomatically, to avoid

circumlocution. The origin of this expression is to be found in the

straight lines of railway, without expensive detours and grades, which

in the New World are rendered possible by the vast expanses of unbroken

level. These lines of railway are called air line roads, or straight

shoots (q.v.). De Vere remarks that since the number of such roads has

increased in the more thickly settled parts of the Union, the

advantages of direct lines between two great centres over others which

meander from town to town have become very manifest, and for a few

years a tendency to build such air lines has agitated Legislatures,

from whom and from financial circles in the States and abroad help is

asked. These lines not unfrequently run for long distances by the side

of older lines.

1888. St. Louis Globe Democrat, Jan. 24. The obese style once

admired is now disliked. Many old English authors had too much

rhetoric for our age. Of one thing we are profoundly convicted,

that we have no time to spare for superfluities. An author must

take the air line or we will not travel.

1888. Florida Times Union Advertisement, Feb. 11. Ask for tickets

viâ Augusta or Atlanta and the Piedmont air line.

Air One’s Heels, verb. phr. (popular).—To loiter; to hang about.

Air One’s Vocabulary, verb. phr. (old).—To talk for talking’s sake; to

show off by one’s talk; ‘to flash the gab.’ One of the wits of the time

of George IV., when asked what was going on in the House of Commons

answered that Lord Castlereagh was airing his vocabulary. The term is

now rarely heard, but the practice is with us always.

Airy, subs. (vulgar).—A corruption of ‘area,’ e.g., ‘Down the airy

steps.’

A-Jakes.—See Ajax.

Ajax, subs. (old). (Pronounced with both ‘a’s’ long).—The name of this

hero furnished many unsavoury puns to our ancestors, from its

similarity in sound to the two English words, a jakes. In some of the

passages the allusion is rather obscure, as in this:

1609. Ben Jonson, Epicœne, or The Silent Woman, iv., 5. A stool

were better, sir, of Sir Ajax, his invention.

It is plainer in Shakspeare:

1594. Love’s Labour Lost, v., 2. Your lion, that holds his poll-ax,

sitting on a close stool, will be given to Ajax.

The cause of all this vein of low wit was, perhaps, Sir John

Harrington, who in 1596 published his celebrated tract called The

Metamorphosis of Ajax, by which he meant the improvement of a jakes, or

necessary, by forming it into what we now call a water-closet, of which

Sir John was clearly the inventor. For this offence to her delicacy,

Queen Elizabeth kept him for some time in disgrace. Used directly for a

necessary house.

1611. Cotgrave, Eng. Treasury, p. 16. Which (like the glorious Ajax

of Lincoln’s Inne, I saw in London) laps up naught but filth and

excrements.

1720. Hosp. of Incurab. Fooles, p. 6. Adoring Sterculio for a god,

no lesse unworthily then shamfully constituting him a patron and

protector of Ajax and his commodities.

To the above work of Sir J. Harrington, Ben Jonson seems to allude, as

a masterpiece in its way, when, at the conclusion of a dirty poem, he

says,

1574–1637. On the Famous Voyage, vol. VI., p. 290:

And I could wish for their eterniz’d sakes,

My muse had plough’d with his that sung A-jax.

The rhyme here proves that the pronunciation of the time was suited to

the English meaning. Even Camden condescends to play upon this word.

Speaking of the French word pet, he says,

1605. Remains, p. 117. Inquire, if you understand it not, of

Cloacina’s Chaplains, or such as are well read in Ajax.—See Jakes.

Akerman’s Hotel, subs. (obsolete).—Newgate prison was once so called.

The governor’s name was Akerman.—See Cage.

Akeybo.—A slang phrase used in the following manner:—He beats akeybo,

and akeybo beat the devil.—Hotten.

A-la-Mort.—See Amort.

Albany Beef, subs. phr. (American).—The popular name of the flesh of

the sturgeon. This, in color and taste, has some resemblance to beef,

especially when cut in steaks and grilled. Albany is a town on the

Hudson River as high as which the fish in question is or was to be

caught in large numbers, and as a matter of course, it consequently

formed a not inconsiderable factor in the food supply of the

inhabitants—hence the term Albany beef.

Albertopolis, subs. (popular).—A nickname formerly given by Londoners

to the Kensington Gore district, out of compliment to the late Prince

Consort. The Albert Hall and the Exhibition buildings of 1862, with

which Prince Albert was so closely identified, are situated within the

radius; and the Albert Memorial is hard by.

1864. E. Yates, Broken to Harness, ch. xxxiii., p. 366 (1877). Mr.

Cauthar tripped out of the house, and devoted the remainder of the

evening to working out a composition for the nutriment of the hair,

which, under the name of Cauthar’s Crinibus, has an enormous

circulation over the infant heads of albertopolis.

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