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+} +.titlepage-imagewidth { +width:481px; +} +.xd33e2810 { +text-indent:2em; +} +.xd33e5086 { +text-indent:8em; +} +.xd33e5088 { +text-indent:6em; +} +.p1084width { +width:153px; +} +.p1085width { +width:500px; +} +.xd33e22336 { +text-align:center; +} +.xd33e22368 { +text-align:right; +} +.xd33e24230 { +text-indent:4em; +} +.xd33e27473 { +text-indent:10em; +} +.xd33e31485 { +text-indent:14em; +} +.xd33e35160 { +text-indent:12em; +} +.xd33e40098 { +text-indent:24em; +} +.xd33e40110 { +text-indent:20em; +} +.xd33e53921 { +text-indent:22em; +} +/* ]]> */ </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78263 ***</div> +<div class="front"> +<div class="div1 cover"> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first"></p> +<div class="figure cover-imagewidth"><img src="images/new-cover.jpg" alt="Newly Designed Front Cover." width="480" height="720"></div><p> +</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div1 frenchtitle"> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first center large">SLANG <br>AND ITS <br>ANALOGUES. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div1 imprint"> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first center"><i>Seven Hundred and Fifty Copies only printed, of which this is <br>No.</i><span class="xs">.….….….….….….….….…</span> +</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div1 titlepage"> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first"></p> +<div class="figure titlepage-imagewidth"><img src="images/titlepage1.png" alt="Original Title Page." width="481" height="720"></div><p> +</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="titlePage"> +<div class="docTitle"> +<h1 class="mainTitle"><span class="sc">Slang and its Analogues Past and Present.</span></h1> +<div class="subTitle"><span class="sc">A Dictionary, Historical and Comparative, of the Heterodox Speech of all Classes of +Society for more than Three Hundred Years.</span></div> +<div class="subTitle"><i>WITH SYNONYMS IN ENGLISH, FRENCH, GERMAN, ITALIAN, ETC.</i></div> +</div> +<div class="byline">COMPILED AND EDITED BY <br><span class="docAuthor">JOHN S. FARMER,</span> +<br>“<i>Americanisms—Old and New</i>”: “<i lang="la">Ex Oriente Lux</i>”: “<i>’Twixt Two Worlds</i>.” </div> +<div class="docImprint">VOL. I.—<span class="sc">A to Byz.</span> +<br><i>PRINTED FOR SUBSCRIBERS ONLY.</i> +<br><span class="docDate">MDCCCXC.</span> </div> +</div> +<p></p> +<div class="div1 notice"> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">The author will esteem it a favour to be furnished with examples of cant or slang +of any kind or nationality, together with quotations, especially early ones, illustrating +usage, meaning, derivation, etc. All communications may be addressed to <span class="sc">John S. Farmer</span>, care of <span class="sc">A. P. Watt</span>, Esq., 2, Paternoster Square, London, E.C. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb.v">[<a href="#pb.v">v</a>]</span> </p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div1 last-child preface"> +<div class="divHead"> +<div class="figure"><img src="images/o1v.png" alt="PREFATORY NOTE." width="198" height="10"></div> +<h2 class="main">PREFATORY NOTE.</h2> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<div class="figure floatLeft"><img src="images/initial-h1.png" alt="“H" width="128" height="129"></div> +<p class="first">e that undertakes to compile a dictionary, undertakes that which, if it comprehends +the full extent of his design, he knows himself unable to perform. Yet his labours, +though deficient, may be useful, and with the hope of this inferior praise, he must +incite his activity, and solace his weariness.” So wrote the great lexicographer, +Dr. Johnson, in the “Advertisement” to the fourth edition of his Dictionary of the +English Language, published in 1773. In another place he had already told, in words +which have since become classical, of the difficulties he had encountered, and of +his own estimate of the shortcomings of his work as compared with the original design. +It is in very much the same position that I find myself, now that I have completed +the first instalment of my own task, smaller and less important though it be. I am +fully conscious of manifold imperfections; yet I hope, and indeed believe, that I +have, in my presentation of what is generically known as “slang,” advanced the enquiry +in some measure. While cordially acknowledging the aid I have derived from the labours +of my predecessors in the field, I cannot but recognise that, again and again, having +adopted a new mode of treatment, I have found myself forced to “blaze” the way into +what was practically a <i lang="la">terra incognita</i>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb.vi">[<a href="#pb.vi">vi</a>]</span></p> +<p>The difficulties were manifold, and crowded upon one at every turn from the very outset. +First and foremost came the question of deciding whether any given word, phrase, or +turn of expression could with justice be relegated to the limbo of unorthodox speech—in +short to decide, What is Slang? As a matter of fact, I have not yet discovered, nor +have I been able to formulate any definition which covers the whole of the ground +to be traversed. As Dr. Murray truly observes, “there is absolutely no defining line +in any direction: the circle of the English language has a well-defined centre, but +no discernible circumference.” Authorities differ between themselves, and often with +themselves when asked to set down in plain scientific terms the marks which distinguish +the vagrant words of slang from correct and orthodox English. Nor is the difficulty +removed or lessened by an analysis of the genesis, or the application of this vast +and motley crowd of heterodox words: of a verity the borderland between slang and +the “Queen’s English” is an ill-defined territory, the limits of which have never +been clearly mapped out. It is, therefore, not without hesitation, that I have ventured +to explore this “Dark Continent” of the World of Words. If I cast a ray of light where +before was darkness, or reduce to some sort of order where much was confusion—well +and good: if, on the other hand, my steps at times chance to falter, others will, +in such a case, be able to profit by my experience as I have by that of my predecessors. +</p> +<p>Hence—bearing in mind the ill-defined character of much of the enquiry—my title, “Slang +and its Analogues,” which I think fairly and accurately describes <span class="pageNum" id="pb.vii">[<a href="#pb.vii">vii</a>]</span>the scope and intent of the present work, though it may not satisfy those critics +who, without examination, seek to decry or put aside that which it has cost years +of labour and research to produce. For the rest, however, a conscientious worker may +well be content to abide the result of careful and honest criticism, whether for praise +or demerit. +</p> +<p>Great as was the initial difficulty in regard to a dividing line between the three +great divisions of colloquial English—dialectical, technical, and slang—it was clearly +and obviously necessary to draw the line somewhere. After careful consideration, I +adopted, as a standard between literary and non-literary English, Annandale’s edition +of Ogilvie’s <i>Imperial English Dictionary</i>. With but few exceptions, it will be found that no word is here included which is +there set down as forming part of the orthodox inheritance of “the noble English tongue.” +The next great difficulty with which I found myself confronted was the determination +of the exact meanings of slang words and expressions. Frequently I discovered I had +to deal with a veritable Proteus—slang used to-day in one sense shades off to-morrow +into many modifications. This fact I have had to keep steadily in mind. It will account, +in some instances, for what may, at first sight, appear to be an unnecessarily extended +list of illustrative quotations; in such cases it will generally be found, on examination, +that different shades of meaning are exemplified. +</p> +<p>As regards treatment, I have adopted, though not in its entirety, what is commonly +known as the “historical method,” supplementing this by an attempt at the comparative +study of slang, <i>i.e.</i>, the presentation of unorthodox <span class="pageNum" id="pb.viii">[<a href="#pb.viii">viii</a>]</span>English in juxtaposition with the argots of other European nations, notably those +of the French, German, Italian, and Spanish peoples. The historical usage of slang +is amply illustrated by the quotations appended to each example. These comprise in +their range the whole period of English literature from the earliest down to the present +time, my plan having been to give the first ascertainable use of any given word or +phrase, tracing it down century by century, winding up with an example “down to date.” +These illustrative quotations, roughly speaking, number upwards of 100,000 for the +whole work. I was fortunate enough shortly after commencing my final task of revision +to have about 12,000 quotations placed at my disposal by Mr. G. L. Apperson, of Wimbledon, +who for many years has had special knowledge of the requirements of such work, having +sub-edited certain sections of the <i>New English Dictionary</i>. I am glad to be able to make special mention of my indebtedness in this respect; +as also to Mr. G. A. King, of Croydon, an old Wykehamist, for invaluable aid in connection +with public school words and phrases. +</p> +<p>Copious materials for a comparative study of English and foreign slang will be found +in the often-times lengthy lists of analogous and synonymous terms appended to the +more important and more commonly used examples in the body of the work. This branch +of my study I shall deal with more fully in an article to follow the completion of +the vocabulary proper, and I purpose to enhance the usefulness of that portion of +the dictionary by a complete alphabetical list of all the foreign slang words and +phrases herein used, with full references to page and column. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb.ix">[<a href="#pb.ix">9</a>]</span></p> +<p>For the rest, my method will, I think, need little elucidation. I have endeavoured +to make each example, with its explanation, derivation, synonyms, and illustrative +quotations, as far as possible, complete in itself. Over and above this, however, +the cross-references will be found of considerable value for the purpose of comparison, +and will, I hope, be acceptable. I may also add that, wherever possible, I have given +a reference indicating where synonymous or analogous words may be found. The arrangement +of these synonyms has been a matter of considerable thought; first, as to the most +fitting place for inclusion; and second, so to distribute them throughout the dictionary +as to present a piece of work evenly balanced, and ready of reference. +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> +</p> +<p>There are certain sources of information of which I must make special acknowledgment. +Among books, first and foremost, comes that invaluable store-house, <i>Notes and Queries</i>. I have freely drawn for information upon this inestimable periodical from its very +first issue, invariably making a note of my indebtedness, and to whom, in the text. +The <i>New English Dictionary</i> has also been of service in supplying, at times, earlier examples of the use of a +slang word or phrase than those of which I was already possessed. It is not, however, +without a certain amount of perhaps pardonable satisfaction that I, working single-handed, +am often able to give much earlier illustrations of the slang side and usage of our +mother tongue, than occurs elsewhere. +</p> +<p>As regards French <i lang="fr">Argot</i>, Francisque Michel, Lorédan Larchey, and A. Barrère, respectively, are the chief +authorities to whom I wish to render due acknowledgment; <span class="pageNum" id="pb.x">[<a href="#pb.x">x</a>]</span>Avé-Lallemant and Kahle have also been specially useful in connection with the German +<i lang="de"><span id="xd33e268">Gaunersprache</span></i>. The dates of quotations have, wherever possible, been finally verified by comparison +with the comprehensive and useful appendix to Dr. Brewer’s <i>Reader’s Handbook</i>. +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> +</p> +<p>It may not be out of place to give some indication of the complete scheme (subject +to slight modification) of <span class="sc">Slang and its Analogues</span>. The work will comprise:— +</p> +<ul> +<li class="numberedItem"><span class="itemNumber">I.</span> A dictionary of ancient and modern English slang, treated historically, including +copious lists of English, French, German, and Italian synonyms, etc. </li> +<li class="numberedItem"><span class="itemNumber">II.</span> A chapter on the comparative study of the subject; this embraces English cant and +slang, French <i lang="fr">Argot</i>, German <i lang="de"><span id="xd33e293">Gaunersprache</span></i>, Italian <i lang="it">Fourbesque</i>, Spanish <i lang="es">Germania</i>, and Portuguese <i lang="pt"><span id="xd33e303">Calão</span></i>. </li> +<li class="numberedItem"><span class="itemNumber">III.</span> A new and exhaustive Bibliography, with copious entries of foreign books treating +of the subject. </li> +<li class="numberedItem"><span class="itemNumber">IV.</span> A list of authorities and references to periodical literature, with full titles and +dates as mentioned throughout the dictionary. </li> +<li class="numberedItem"><span class="itemNumber">V.</span> A complete vocabulary of all foreign slang words and expressions occurring throughout +the body of the work, with detailed references to example, page, and column. This +will form in itself a comprehensive dictionary of foreign slang. </li> +</ul><p> +</p> +<p class="small"><span class="sc">Note.</span>—A table of abbreviations used in this Volume will be found on page 406. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb1">[<a href="#pb1">1</a>]</span> </p> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="body"> +<div class="div1 letter"> +<div class="divHead"> +<div class="figure"><img src="images/p1001.png" alt="Ornament" width="502" height="140"></div> +<h2 class="label"> </h2> +<div class="figure"><img src="images/title1.png" alt="A Dictionary of Slang and its Analogues." width="513" height="94"></div> +<h2 class="super">A Dictionary of Slang and its Analogues.</h2> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<div class="figure floatLeft"><img src="images/initial-a.png" alt="A" width="119" height="130"></div> +<p class="first"><b></b> (vulgar)—[“ă” as in <i>bat</i>].—A common vulgarism in speaking for (1) “have,” (2) “I,” (3) “he,” (4) “at,” (5) +“on,” etc. It occurs in these connections for more than 300 years; all were used by +Shakspeare, as well as by Beaumont and Fletcher and other writers of the Elizabethan +period. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>A1</b> or <b>A1 Copper-Bottomed</b>, <i>adj. phr.</i> (popular).—Applied to men or things, A1 is synonymous with a high degree of praise. +‘He must be a first-rater,’ said Sam. ‘A1,’ replied Mr. Roker. [1837, <i>Pickwick Papers</i>.] +</p> +<p>The derivation of this colloquialism from the symbols used in registering ships at +Lloyd’s is pretty well known. Letters—A.A. (in black and red), Æ (in black), E, etc.—are +employed to denote various degrees of excellence in the hulls of vessels, figures +being added to show the quality of the equipments, such as masts and rigging in sailing +vessels, or boilers and engines in steamers. When hull and fittings alike are of the +best, a vessel is classed A1. Hence, in mercantile circles, the expression has become +popularly current, in a figurative sense, to signify the highest commercial credit; +and, by a process of expansion, excellence of quality in general, <i>i.e.</i>, first-class; first-rate. The form varies, being rendered by <span class="sc">first-class letter a</span>; <span class="sc">A1 copper-bottomed</span>; and, in the U.S.A., <span class="sc">A1 and no mistake</span>. The earliest reference given in the <i>New English Dictionary</i> for the colloquially figurative usage bears date 1836, but it was employed at least +two years previously in a quarter which seems definitely to fix, not only the period +of its adoption, but the process of transition as well. A1 was a perfectly natural +colloquialism in the hands of Captain Marryat, at once an experienced seaman and a +practised writer. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb2">[<a href="#pb2">2</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1833. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Peter Simple</i>, ch. xliii. ‘Broached molasses, cask No. 1, <span class="sc">letter A</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 229. ‘Here’s spoons for six, and tea and sugar for one. Sold again! and this +time to my old sweetheart of all. She’s a prime girl, she is; she is <span class="sc">a number one, copper-bottomed</span>, and can sail as well in her stays as out of her stays; she is full rigged, and carries +a lot of canvas. But I must not tell tales out of school.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Punch</i>, lxxxii. 181, 1. <span class="sc">In Vino (et cetera) Veritas.</span> ‘What’s up, old man? You seem to be out of sorts!’ ‘Snappe’s been here. I begged +him to give me his candid opinion about my pictures. He did!’ ‘Ah! I see! It differs +from <i>yours</i>! Now when I want a fellow’s candid opinion about my pictures, I ask him to dinner, +give him a first-rate bottle of claret, a cup of A1 coffee, a glass of old cognac, +and the best cigar money can buy, and <i>then</i> I show him my pictures, and I always find that his candid opinion coincides with +my own.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Eng. Synonyms.</span> All brandy; the pure quill; about East (American); about right; at par; the cheese; +all there; bang up; a corker; up to Dick; downy; fizzing; that’s Bible; splash up; +up to the nines; up to the knocker; down to the ground; slap up, etc. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Abracadabrant</i>, <i>adj.</i> (from Abracadabra); <i lang="fr">aux petits oignons</i> (literally ‘like small onions.’ <i>Cf.</i>, English, ‘like a thousand of bricks,’ and ‘like winkey’); <i>bath</i> (<i>adj.</i>: also <i>bate</i>. In <i>Argot and Slang</i> the origin of the term is thus stated:—Towards 1848 some Bath notepaper of superior +quality was hawked about in the streets of Paris, and sold at a low price. Thus ‘<i>papier bath</i>’ became synonymous of (<i>sic</i>) excellent paper. In a short time the qualifying term alone remained and received +a general application); <i lang="fr">arriver bon premier</i> (literally ‘to arrive a good first’). +</p> +<p>(Fenian).—Sometimes erroneously No. 1. In the copy of Hotten’s <i>Slang Dictionary</i>, annotated by H. J. Byron, the playwright, now in the British Museum, this is given +as ‘a title for the commander of 900 men.<span id="xd33e434">’</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aaron</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—‘The <span class="sc">Aaron</span>,’ says H. O. Manton in <i>Slangiana</i>, ‘is the chief or captain of a gang or school of thieves. The title is invariably +preceded by the prefix <i>The</i>—par excellence <i>the</i> first—similar to the eldest representatives of certain Irish and Scotch clans or +families, such as <i>The</i> O’Connor Don, <i>The</i> Chisholm, etc. As <span class="sc">Aaron</span> was the first high priest … it is probably of Jewish origin in its slang application. +An <span class="sc">Aaron</span> was an old cant term for one of a class of cadgers, who combined begging with acting +as guide to the summits of mountains, chiefly to evade the laws against vagabondage, +no doubt a play, in its slang sense, on its Hebrew equivalent, lofty.’ In this last +connection a closer relationship probably exists than that just stated, inasmuch as +Gesenius thinks that the Hebrew <span class="sc">Aaron</span> is a derivative of <i>Hāron</i>, a mountaineer. It is to be remarked that leaders of the church were also called +<span class="sc">Aarons</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>A. B.</b>, or <b>A. B. S.</b> (commercial).—An able-bodied seaman.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bottle sucker</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <i>Chambers’ Journal</i>, No. 627. Of all the European sailors by far the most reliable were five stalwart +<span class="sc">A.B’S.</span> +<span class="pageNum" id="pb3">[<a href="#pb3">3</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Abaddon</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A thief who, to general nefarious practices, adds perfidy to his companions. +Rarely, and perhaps only locally used. It is obviously derived from <span class="sc">Abaddon</span>, the destroyer or angel of the bottomless pit (Revelation ix., 11). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abandannad</b>, <b>Abandannaad</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—1. A nearly obsolete term to designate primarily a pickpocket, whose +chief quarry is pocket handkerchiefs or bandannas; and, hence +</p> +<p>2. A petty thief, <i>i.e.</i>, one whose depredations are regarded by the fraternity as not worth the risk incurred. +Brewer writes down the word as a contraction of ‘a bandanna lad.’ With this derivation +is connected the story of an incident said to have been a prime factor in the movement +resulting in the passing of Sir Samuel Romilly’s Act for the abolition of capital +punishment for highway robberies under 40s. value. Briefly told, it is that a footpad +robbed a woman of a bandanna shawl, valued at 9d., an offence for which a notorious +highwayman was hanged. Subsequently, however, he was proved to have been innocent, +whereupon the fact of her mistaken accusation having done an innocent man to death +so preyed upon the woman’s mind that she became raving mad. The incidents touched +the public conscience, an agitation ensued, and the law was amended as stated. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abandoned Habits</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (popular).—The riding costumes of the ladies of the demi-monde in Hyde Park—(<i>Slangiana</i>). The punning and sufficiently obvious innuendo involved in the appellation hardly +calls for further comment.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Anonyma</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abbess</b> or <b>Lady Abbess</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The keeper of a house of ill-fame; also a procuress. It has been suggested +that the origin of this term for the mistress of a brothel, as also that of <span class="sc">Abbot</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), the name given to the male associate of the mistress, may be traced to the alleged +illicit amours of Abelard and <span id="xd33e542">Héloïse</span>. In this connection it is significant that, according to Francisque Michel’s <i lang="fr">Etudes Comparées sur l’Argot</i>, a common woman was, in the old French cant, said to come from <i lang="fr">l’abbaye des s’offre à tous</i>. The keeper of such an establishment was called <i lang="fr">l’abbesse</i>, and her associate <i lang="fr">le sacristain</i>. The analogy was carried still further, by the inmates being termed ‘nuns’ and ‘sisters +of charity.’ This depravation in the meaning of words, usually applied only to the +holders of sacred offices, may possibly, without undue license, be regarded as resulting +from the mockery born of the degradation, in the popular mind, of the priestly office; +or, it may naturally flow from the loose way in which the title of ‘abbot’ was often +applied to the holders of non-monastic offices. Thus, the first step toward degeneration +may have occurred in applying the term to the principal of a body of clergy, as an +episcopal rector; or, as amongst the Genoese, to a chief magistrate. The second stage +was reached when, in the middle ages, ‘abbot’ was applied ironically <span class="pageNum" id="pb4">[<a href="#pb4">4</a>]</span>to the heads of various guilds and associations, and to the leaders in popular assemblages +and disorderly festivities, <i>e.g.</i>, the Abbot of Bell-ringers, the Abbot of Misrule, the Abbot of Unreason. Henceforward +deterioration was both easy and rapid to the point when ‘abbot’ and its co-relative +<span class="sc">abbess</span>, signified a steward and stewardess of the <span class="sc">stews</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). The terms are now obsolete on both sides of the Channel. In England the modern +equivalent for <span class="sc">abbess</span> is <span class="sc">mother</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); and in France <i lang="fr">la maca</i>, <i lang="fr">mère maca</i>, <i lang="fr">la maquecée</i>, or <i lang="fr">l’institutrice</i>, do similar duty. +</p> +<p class="cit">1782. <span class="sc">Wolcot</span> [P. Pindar], <i>Odes to the Pope</i>, Ode ii. in <i>Works</i> (Dublin, 1795), vol. II., p. 492. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">So an old <span class="sc">abbess</span>, for the rattling rakes, </p> +<p class="line">A tempting dish of human nature makes, </p> +<p class="line">And dresses up a luscious maid. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1840. <span class="sc">W. Kidd</span>, <i>London and all Its Dangers</i>. The infernal wretches who traffic in the souls and bodies of their helpless victims +are called <span class="sc">lady abbesses</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abbey Lubber</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—[From <span class="sc">abbey</span> + <span class="sc">lubber</span>.] +</p> +<p>1. An old term of contempt for an able-bodied idler who grew sleek and fat upon the +charity of religious houses; also sometimes, especially subsequent to the Reformation, +applied to monks. In this sense it has long fallen into disuse. +</p> +<p class="cit">1680. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>Spanish Friar</i>, III. 3. This is no huge, overgrown <span class="sc">abbey lubber</span>. +</p> +<p>2. The term survives, however, and is still occasionally used by seafaring men, although +‘lubber’ is now more common amongst our Jack tars for a lazy, thriftless individual. +If a sailor wishes to express the utmost scorn for laziness and meanness, he finds +a very much more forcible expression in a ‘dirty dog and no sailor.’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Lubbers’ hole</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abbot</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The husband or ‘fancy man’ of an <span class="sc">abbess</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); now called a <span class="sc">ponce</span> (<i>q.v.</i>)<span>.</span> In the old French argot these gentry were dignified by the title of <i>sacristain</i>. They were occasionally spoken of as <span class="sc">croziered abbots</span>, or <span class="sc">abbots on the cross</span>, in which case the establishments over which they mounted guard were not so much +brothels as <span class="sc">panel cribs</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), where prostitution served mainly as a cloak for robbery. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abbott’s Priory</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (popular).—The King’s Bench Prison was formerly so-called; perhaps from Chief Justice +Abbott. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abbreviations.</b>—These occasionally partake most clearly of the nature of slang. As illustrative examples +may be mentioned:—K.D.Gs., the King’s, now the First Dragoon Guards.—O.K., all right; +‘orl krect.’—B.T.I., a big thing on ice.—Q.T., generally ‘on the strict Q.T.’, <i>i.e.</i>, quiet.—T.T., too thin.—Cri., the Criterion (restaurant or theatre).—The Ox., the +Oxford Music Hall.—Tec., detective.—B.P., British Public.—B. and S., brandy and soda.—P.D.Q., +pretty d——d quick. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>A. B. C.’s</b> (London).—1. The Aërated Bread Co.’s establishments are, familiarly speaking, <i>A. B. C.’s</i>. +</p> +<p>2. (Christ’s Hospital).—<i>A</i>le, <i>B</i>read and <i>C</i>heese on ‘going home night.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb5">[<a href="#pb5">5</a>]</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">As easy as a. b. c.</span>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (popular).—Extremely facile; the acme of ease, <i>i.e.</i>, from an adult’s point of view; children, however, probably view the matter in a +different light. In this, as in much else, distance lends enchantment to the scene. +This colloquialism is by no means of modern growth; Shakspeare speaks of answer ‘coming +like A. B. C. book.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>A-Bear</b>, <i>v.</i> (provincial and vulgar).—To suffer, or to tolerate. [From old English <i>abearan</i>, to bear or carry].—This term, though hoary with age, and long of honorable usage +(from <span class="asc">A.D.</span> 885 downward), must now be classed with degenerate words, or at all events with non-literary +English. Though still largely dialectical, its use amongst people of education is +reckoned vulgar. It is now invariably employed in conjunction with ‘cannot’—‘I can’t +<span class="sc">abear</span> furriners.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abelwhackets.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Ablewhackets</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aberdeen Cutlet</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (familiar).—A dried haddock.—<i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Billingsgate pheasant</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abide</b>, <i>v.</i> (vulgar).—To tolerate; to put up with. This, like <span class="sc">abear</span> (q.v.), has ancient sanction for its use. In the senses of to endure, suffer, bear, +or sustain—meanings which are now obsolete—the word can be traced back as far as <span class="asc">A.D.</span> 1205; the modern vulgar usage, rarely employed affirmatively, dates from about <span class="asc">A.D.</span> 1526, when Tindale translated John viii. 43, by ‘He cannot <span class="sc">abyde</span> the hearyng of my words.’ <span class="sc">Abide</span>, therefore, may be classed amongst those words which, once respectable, have now +fallen into disrepute. Shakspeare puts into the mouth of one of his characters a phrase +which, to those acquainted with the speech of the uneducated classes, has a very modern +appearance, ‘I cannot <span class="sc">abide</span> the smell of hot meat.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abigail</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A lady’s maid. There can be little doubt that the familiar use of this +name for the genus ‘waiting woman,’ was primarily an allusion to the title of handmaid +assumed by <span class="sc">Abigail</span>, the wife of Nabal, in speaking to the servants of King David. ‘Behold, let thine +handmaid be a servant to wash the feet of the servants of my Lord’ (1 Sam. xxv. 41). +Other names recorded in the Bible, and for the matter of that elsewhere, have been +used much in the same way as marking distinctive character. <span class="sc">Abigail</span> has thus become associated with the idea of a female servant; so, too, a giant is +spoken of as a Goliath; a patient man as a Job; a shrew as a Jezebel; a coward as +a Bob Acres, <i lang="la">cum multis aliis</i>. In Beaumont and Fletcher’s comedy of <i>The Scornful Lady</i> (1616), one of the characters, Mrs. Youngton, a ‘waiting gentlewoman,’ is named <span class="sc">Abigail</span>. This play, having a long run of public favour,—Pepys in his <i>Diary</i> [1666], iv. 195, specially mentions it,—possibly led to the popularization of the +nickname. At all events it subsequently appeared on more than one occasion in the +same connection <span class="pageNum" id="pb6">[<a href="#pb6">6</a>]</span>in the plays of the period. There is no reason to suppose that the term was derived +from the notorious <span class="sc">Abigail</span> Hill, better known as Mrs. Masham, a poor relative of the Duchess of Marlborough, +by whom she was introduced to a subordinate place about the person of Queen Anne; +nor will the contention that it was first established in public usage by Dean Swift, +who employed it in a letter to Stella, hold good; although likely enough he caused +it to take deeper root than before. The terms on which he was with the Mashams rendered +him the last person in the world likely to have used such a term, unless it had been +so long in familiar use as to be deprived of all appearance of personal allusion to +them. +</p> +<p class="cit">1663. <span class="sc">T. Killigrew</span>, <i>Parson’s Wedding</i>, II., vi. in Dodsley, <i>O.P.</i> (1780), xi., 425. [In this play, a waiting woman is termed an <span class="sc">Abigail</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1750. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, book XI., ch. ii. The mistress was no sooner in bed than the maid prepared to follow +her example. She began to make many apologies to her sister <span class="sc">Abigail</span> for leaving her alone in so horrid a place as an inn. +</p> +<p class="cit">1858. <span class="sc">G. Eliot</span>, <i>Mr. Gilfil’s Love-Story</i>, ch. iii. The next morning, Mrs. Sharp, then a blooming <span class="sc">Abigail</span> of three-and-thirty, entered her lady’s private room. +</p> +<p>It has been stated that Old English writers used the word <span class="sc">Abigail</span> to signify a termagant woman, and also a female bigamist, but there is no evidence +to support these views. It may be mentioned that the French use the word in the popular +English sense. A waiting woman was also formerly called a <span class="sc">comb-brush</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ablewhackets</b>, also <b>Abelwhackets</b>, <b>Abelwackets</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—[From <span class="sc">able</span> (uncertain, perhaps alluding to able seaman) + <span class="sc">whack</span>]. A game of cards played by sailors, in which the loser receives a whack or blow +with a knotted handkerchief for every game (or point) he loses. Smyth, in his <i>Sailor’s Word Book</i> [1867], says it is very popular with horny-fisted salts. It is quoted by Grose as +far back as 1785, but Clark Russell, in <i>Sailor’s Language</i> [1883], refers to it as obsolete. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abound</b>, <i>v.</i> (American).—To be prominent; <i lang="fr">en évidence</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1873. <i>Evening Standard</i>, 28 January. When we are told of a professed wit more than usually <span class="sc">abounding</span> at an evening party, there is no temptation to recruit our dictionaries from the +English manufactured in the United States. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>About East</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (American).—To the frontiersman or pioneer, the Eastern or New England States are +typical of all that he cherishes most and loves best. The vicissitudes of his rough +Western life, the toil and hardships he has undergone while battling with nature and +building up a new habitation far from the old homestead, all predispose him to turn +with longing eyes and undying, though quaintly exaggerated love to the East—the home +of his fathers. A famous Yankee character (Major Jack Downing) makes use of the expression +that he would ‘<span class="sc">Go East</span> of sunrise any day to see <span class="sic">sich</span> a place.’ Everybody and everything connected with the East, <i>i.e.</i>, his native land, is commendable. To his mind they cannot be surpassed—hence the +things he would <span class="pageNum" id="pb7">[<a href="#pb7">7</a>]</span>hold up to admiration he says are <span class="sc">about East</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘about right.’ Indeed, it is surprising what a strong hold this idea has upon the +minds of men. Many a familiar phrase recalls the old times and the old folks to memory, +which, in this respect, is evergreen. They talk of <span class="sc">going down East</span>, that is, to New England, while the <span class="sc">Down-Easter</span> is neither more nor less than the pure and veritable Yankee.—<span class="sc">Farmer’s</span> <i>Americanisms, Old and New</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>About Right</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (vulgar).—Correctly; to the purpose; properly—general satisfaction on the part of +the speaker concerning a given thing or action. ’Arry sometimes varies the locution +by <span class="sc">ter rights</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1850. <span class="sc">F. E. Smedley</span>, <i>Frank Fairleigh</i>, ch. iv. ‘<span class="sc">You’re about right</span>, there, Mr. Lawless; you’re down to every move, I see, as usual.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Hawley Smart</span>, <i>Hard Lines</i>, ch. xxii. ‘I am afraid your schemes went a little awry yesterday,’ observed Mrs. +Daventry.… ‘<span class="sc">You’re about right</span>; they did.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>About the Size of It</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (American).—1. An expression covering a wide field—assent, general satisfaction, +approval, etc. Synonymous with <span class="sc">about right</span>; <span class="sc">o.k.</span>; <span class="sc">ter rights</span>, etc. +</p> +<p>2. Used also for ‘how’; ‘how much,’ etc.—a measure of quantity or quality. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876 (?). <span class="sc">James Greenwood</span>, <i>New ‘Roughs’ Guide’</i> in ‘Odd People in Odd Places.’ Got no home, no wittles, and never a ’a’penny to buy +none with. That’s <span class="sc">about the size</span> of how destitoot we are, sir. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>Punch</i>, May 14, p. 228. <span class="sc">Sir G[orgius] M[idas] goes in for Culture.</span> “Look ’ere, Clarke. ‘Appy thought! I’ll make this little room the libery, you know; +’ave a lot o’ books. Mind you order me some.’ ‘Yes, Sir Gorgius. What sort of books +shall I order?’ ‘Oh, the best, of course, with binding and all that to match!’ ‘Yes, +Sir Gorgius, how <i>many</i> shall I order?’ ‘Well,—let me see,—suppose we say a couple o’ ’undred yards of ’em, +hay? That’s <span class="sc">about the size of it</span>, I think.<span id="xd33e988">”</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Above Board</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (common).—Without disguise or concealment; with an absence of artifice. Jamieson +refers this to the language of the gaming table, the players when changing cards putting +their hands on, <i>i.e.</i>, above the table or board to ensure fair dealing. It appears, however, even in its +figurative sense to be a colloquialism of long standing.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Murray’s</span> <i>New English Dictionary</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Above One’s Bend</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (American).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bend</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Above Par</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (familiar).—Used figuratively in a multitude of senses, <i>e.g.</i> (1) in reference to one’s health or spirits, in good condition; (2) applied to a +man in liquor it signifies a state of moderate drunkenness; or (3) used in regard +to pecuniary matters it is synonymous with being ‘flush,’ having ‘the needful’—‘best +bliss of earth,’ as Duncombe puts it. Derived from the technical, commercial meaning. +Stocks are said to be <i>at par</i> when purchasable at their ‘face’ value; when at a premium they are <span class="sc">above par</span>; and when selling at a decline in value, <i>i.e.</i>, at a discount, they are said to be <i>below par</i>; hence the colloquial usage. <i>See</i> example in quotation. Synonyms, <span class="sc">up to</span>, or <span class="sc">above the mark</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb8">[<a href="#pb8">8</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Punch</i>, June 5, p. 253. <span class="sc">Fred on Pretty Girls and Pictures.</span> +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Awful fellow that Ted at his letters!—he writes for the <i>Scanmag</i>, you know; </p> +<p class="line">And his style never falls below ‘<span class="sc">par</span>.’ Not my joke, heard him putting it so——. </p> +<p class="line">And the pars in the <i>Scanmag</i>—he does them—are proper, and chock full of ‘go.’ </p> +<p class="line">Only paper I care to grind through, never preachy, or gushing, or slow! </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Abracadabra</b>, <i>subs.</i> (scientific jargon).——1.—A cabalistic word used in incantations. When written in +a manner similar to that shown in accompanying diagram, so as to be read in different +directions, and worn as an amulet, it was supposed to cure certain ailments. +</p> +<p class="center">A B R A C A D A B R A <br> A B R A C A D A B R <br> A B R A C A D A B <br> A B R A C A D A <br> A B R A C A D <br> A B R A C A <br> A B R A C <br> A B R A <br> A B R <br> A B <br> A +</p> +<p>Hence (2), any word-charm, empty jingle of words, gibberish, nonsense, or extravagant +idea. Littré’s derivation from the Hebrew—<i>ab</i> father, <i>mach</i> spirit, and <i>dabar</i> word—is regarded by many authorities as fanciful; as also is T. A. G. Balfour’s reference +of it to a composition of the first letters of the Hebrew words signifying ‘Father, +Son, and Holy Spirit.’ Other authorities, though by no means in accord, generally +agree that a Persian origin is the most likely. Mr. R. S. Charnock (<i>Notes and Queries</i>, 7 S., iii., 504) thinks it related to the cabalistic word <i>abraxas</i> composed of the <span class="corr" id="xd33e1109" title="Source: Greeek">Greek</span> letters α, β, ρ, α, ξ, α, ς, making, according to the Greek numeration, the number +365. +</p> +<p lang="fr" class="cit">Des auteurs beaucoup plus anciens n’ont vu dans le mot <i>abraxas</i>, qu’une réunion des lettres numériques, qui étant additionées donnent le nombre 365, +ou l’année entière, en sorte qu’ <i>abraxas</i> serait le symbole du soleil ou de sa révolution annuelle presumée.—<i>Depping.</i> +</p> +<p>In Persian, according to Grotenford, <i>abraxas</i> means the ‘Sun God’; if this be so its use as a talisman is easily understood. Yet +another derivation is from a corrupt form of the Hebrew—<i>dabar</i> is verbū, and <i>abraca</i> is benedixit, <i>i.e.</i>, verbum benedixit. If, however, the word is <span class="corr" id="xd33e1130" title="Source: Semetic">Semitic</span> at all, and nothing more than an unintelligible jargon of letters, it could possibly +be better explained than by Littré, by <i>Abra(i) seda bra(i)</i>, ‘Out, bad spirit, out!’ as a magic formula for driving out the demon which causes +the fever. It is interesting in this connection to compare Mark i. 25, ix. 25, and +parallel passages. +</p> +<p class="cit">1687. <span class="sc">Aubrey’s</span> <i>Remaines of Gentilisme</i>, p. 124 (1881). [In this work <span class="sc">abracadabra</span> is given arranged as a spell.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1711. <i>Spectator</i>, No. 221. They [the signatures] are, perhaps, little amulets or charms to preserve +the paper against the fascination and malice of evil eyes; for which reason I would +not have my reader surprised, if hereafter he sees any of my papers marked with a +Q, a Z, a Y, an &c., or with the word <span class="sc">abracadabra</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1722. <span class="sc">Defoe</span>, <i>Journal of the Plague</i> (ed. Brayley, 1835, p. 56). ‘This mysterious word, which, written in the form of +a triangle or a pyramid, was regarded as a talisman or charm of wonderful power, is +said to have been the name of a Syrian god, whose aid was considered to be invoked +by the wearers of the amulet. It originated in the superstitions of a very remote +period, and was recommended as an antidote by Serenus Sammonicus, a Roman physician, +who lived in the early part of the third century, in the reigns of the emperors Severus +and Caracalla. Its efficacy was reputed to be most powerful <span class="pageNum" id="pb9">[<a href="#pb9">9</a>]</span>in agues and other disorders of a febrile kind, and particularly against the fever +called by the physicians Hemitritæus.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <i>Literary World</i>, 5 Dec., p. 358, col. 2 [<span class="sc">m</span>]. The new <span class="sc">abracadabra</span> of science, ‘organic evolution.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abraham</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A clothier’s shop of the lowest description, where slop-made garments +of shoddy cloth form the staple commodity together with second-hand clothes or <span class="sc">hand-me-downs</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). Chiefly localized in the East End of London, where these establishments are kept +by Jews; hence probably the derivation of the term; <i>adj.</i> (old cant).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Abram</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abraham-Cove</b>, <b>Abraham-Man</b>, <b>Abram-Cove</b>, <b>Abram-Man</b>, <b>Tom of Bedlam’s Man</b>, or <b>Bedlam Beggar</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—It is difficult now-a-days to trace with certainty the origin of these +terms, notwithstanding a wealth of matter on the subject. Nares describes the fraternity +as a set of vagabonds who wandered about the country soon after the dissolution of +the religious houses: the provision for the poor in those places being cut off and +no other substituted. Thus, primarily, an <span class="sc">Abraham-man</span> was a vagabond, a beggar—tattered, unwashed, unkempt—and a thief withal. ‘What an +Abram!’ an exclamation for a naked fellow. Harman, the earliest authority, refers +to them as feigning madness (<i>see</i> quot.), and as having been resident in Bethlehem Hospital. Wards in the ancient Bedlam +bore distinctive names of some saint or patriarch; that named after Abraham was devoted +to a class of mendicant lunatics, who on certain days were permitted to go out begging. +It is an open question whether the ward gave the name to the men or <i>vice versâ</i>. In either case, however, the use of the term ‘Abraham’ is in this connection possibly +an allusion to the beggar Lazarus in Luke xvii. These mendicants bore a badge, but +many assumed the distinction without right, and begged feigning lunacy. Hence, it +may be, the more popular signification of the term— +</p> +<p>2. An impostor, wandering about the country pretending to be mad, begging in the streets, +and laying hands upon all trifles ‘considered’ or ‘unconsidered’ in his way. Dekker, +in his <i>English Villanies</i> [1632], has many curious particulars of the habits of this class of impostors who +were said to <span class="sc">sham Abraham</span>. Shakspeare also, in <i>King Lear</i> [1605], Act ii., Scene 3, describes and puts into the mouth of one of these characters +the following words: +</p> +<div class="lgouter"> +<p class="line">… the basest and most poorest shape, </p> +<p class="line">That ever penury in contempt of man, </p> +<p class="line">Brought near to beast: my face I’ll grime with filth; </p> +<p class="line">Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots; </p> +<p class="line">And with presented nakedness outface </p> +<p class="line">The winds, and persecutions of the sky. </p> +<p class="line">The country gives me proof and precedent </p> +<p class="line">Of <span class="sc">Bedlam beggars</span>, who, with roaring voices, </p> +<p class="line">Strike in their numb’d and mortified bare arms </p> +<p class="line">Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary; </p> +<p class="line">And with this horrible object, from low farms, </p> +<p class="line">Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes and mills, </p> +<p class="line">Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers, </p> +<p class="line">Enforce their charity. </p> +</div> +<p><span class="pageNum" id="pb10">[<a href="#pb10">10</a>]</span></p> +<p class="first">The term is now obsolete, though Scott used it as late as 1824, and from the <i>Quarterly Review</i> (1813), IX., p. 167, it seems to have then been in pretty general use. The modern +prototype is called a tramp or cadger. To <span class="sc">sham Abraham</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, to feign sickness or distress is, however, still in vogue. The French equivalent +is <i>Fagotin</i> (m).—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Abraham sham</span> and <span class="sc">Abram</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1573. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i> (1814), p. 29. These <span class="sc">Abraham men</span> be those that fayn themselves to have bene mad, and have bene kept either in Bethlehem, +or in some other pryson a good time, and not one amongst twenty that ever came in +prison for any such cause. +</p> +<p class="cit">1625. <span class="sc">Massinger</span>, <i>New Way to Pay Old Debts</i>, II., i. Are they padders or <span class="sc">Abram-men</span> that are your consorts? +</p> +<p class="cit">1724. <span class="sc">E. Coles</span>, <i>Eng. Dict.</i> <span class="sc">Abram cove</span>, naked or poor man. +</p> +<p class="cit">1825. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>St. Ronan’s Well</i>, ch. xxi. ‘There is a trick for you to find an <span class="sc">Abram-man</span>, and save sixpence out when he begs of you as a disbanded seaman.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abraham Grains</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A publican who brews his own beer. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abraham Newland</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A bank note. Abraham Newland was chief cashier to the Bank of England, +from 1778 to 1807. +</p> +<p class="cit">1829. <span class="sc">Sir W. Scott</span>, letter to Croker in <i>Croker Papers</i>, vol. II., p. 36. A bank note seems to terrify everybody out of their wits, and they +will rather give up their constitution to Hunt and Cobbett than part with an <span class="sc">Abraham Newland</span> to preserve it. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abraham’s Balsam</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Death by hanging.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">To die in one’s boots</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abraham Sham</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—1.—Feigned sickness or distress. <i>See</i> <span class="sc">Abraham-man</span>. Usually spoken of as to <span class="sc">sham Abraham</span>, or <span class="sc">Abram</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). From this primary meaning, joined with an allusion to the name of a once well-known +chief cashier of the Bank of England, was derived the secondary meaning of the term +<span class="sc">shamming Abraham</span>, to forge bank-notes. Abraham Newland was in office in the years 1778–1807, and a +popular song of the period ran as follows: +</p> +<div class="lgouter"> +<p class="line">‘I have heard people say that <span class="sc">sham Abraham</span> you may, </p> +<p class="line">But you mustn’t <span class="sc">sham Abraham</span> Newland.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first">Further point is added to this stanza by the fact that bank notes were themselves +termed <span class="sc">Abraham Newlands</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), and that forgery was felony by statute. +</p> +<p class="cit">1759. <span class="sc">Goldsmith</span>, <i>Citizen of the World</i>, cxix. “He swore that I understood my business perfectly well, but that I <span class="sc">shammed Abraham</span> merely to be idle.” +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">C. Bronté</span>, <i>Shirley</i>, ch. xxxiii. Matthew, sceptic and scoffer, had already failed to subscribe a prompt +belief in that pain about the heart; he had muttered some words, amongst which the +phrase <span class="sc">shamming Abraham</span> had been very distinctly audible. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abraham Suit</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (thieves’).—False pretences; fraudulent representations to excite sympathy. The term +is applied to any trick or artifice calculated to extract money from the charitable, +whether by means of begging letter, a faked-up appearance, or other contrivance. Those +who resort to such practices are said <span class="sc">to go on the Abraham suit</span>. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Abraham sham</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abraham’s Willing</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (rhyming slang)<span id="xd33e1426">.</span>—A shilling. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb11">[<a href="#pb11">11</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Abraham Work</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (popular).—Shams of all kinds are so designated, from a bubble company down to the +most trumpery ‘city pen’orth.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abram</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old and also modern sea slang).—1. The same as <span class="sc">Abraham-man</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).—2. A malingerer; one who gets put on the sick list to shirk work. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i> (old cant).—1. Mad. +</p> +<p class="cit">1610. <span class="sc">Rowlands</span>, <i>Martin Mark-all</i>, p. 36 (H. Club’s Repr., 1874). <span class="sc">Abram</span> madde. He maunds <span class="sc">Abram</span>, he begs as a madde man. +</p> +<p>2. Naked, ‘she’s all <span class="sc">Abram</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>English Rogue</i>, part I., ch. v., p. 47 (1874). <span class="sc">Abram</span>, naked. +</p> +<p>3. <span class="sc">Abram</span> or <span class="sc">Abram coloured</span> (old).—Derivation uncertain, but supposed to be a corruption of ‘auburn.’ In this +connection it may be remarked that it is to be found in <i>Coriolanus</i>, Act II., scene 3; but where the original reads <i>Abram</i> the folio has ‘auburn.’ <span class="sc">To sham Abram</span>, <i>verb</i><span id="xd33e1496"></span> (old).—Also <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Abraham sham</span>.—The original signification of this word, to feign sickness, led <span class="corr" id="xd33e1503" title="Source: t oits">to its</span> use to describe pretence of any kind; this is specially the case amongst sailors, +workmen, etc., who describe malingering as <i>doing Abram</i>, the defaulter also being called by the same name. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abregoyns</b>, <b>Abergoins</b>, <b>Abrogans</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—Vulgarisms for ‘aborigines.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abridgments</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nonce word).—Knee breeches. This term for small clothes appears in Bulwer Lytton’s +comedy, <i>Money</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Bulwer Lytton</span>, <i>Money</i>, iv. 4. <i>Frantz</i> (producing a pair of small clothes, which Toke examines). Your master is von beggar, +etc. <i>Toke.</i> I accept the <span class="sc">abridgements</span>, but you’ve forgotten to line the pockets. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abroad</b>, <i>adv.</i> (old).—1. Confused; staggered; perplexed. More generally retained in this sense in +America than in England. +</p> +<p>2. (popular).—Generally <span class="sc">all abroad</span>; <i>i.e.</i>, wide of the mark; wrong; uncertain in one’s estimate; or, ‘all at sea.’ In this +figurative sense the expression is much older than is popularly supposed.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bedoozled</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <i>The Fancy</i>, vol. I., p. 255. In the <i>fourth</i> round he came in <span class="sc">all abroad</span>, and got a doubler in the bread-basket, which spoiled him for the remainder of the +fight. +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Old Curiosity Shop</i>, ch. lxi. ‘My friend!’ repeated Kit, ‘You’re <span class="sc">all abroad</span>, seemingly,’ returned the other man. ‘There’s his letter, take hold.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1846. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>V. Fair</i>, ch. v. At the twelfth round the latter champion was <span class="sc">all abroad</span>, as the saying is, and had lost all presence of mind, and power of attack or defence. +</p> +<p>3. To be transported. The French have a similar circumlution, <i lang="fr">aller en traverse</i>, and the Italian Fourbesque has <i lang="it">andar a traverso</i>. +</p> +<p>4. (Win. Coll.)—A boy returning to school work after being ill is said to <span class="sc">come abroad</span>. When on the sick list he is <span class="sc">continent</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) <i>i.e.</i>, <i>continens cameram, vel lectum</i>, <i>keeping</i> his room or bed. When recovered he is allowed to go <i>foris</i>, out of doors, or more colloquially, <span class="sc">abroad</span>. Adams, in <i>Wykehamica</i>, remarks that the use of this term shows the antiquity of the school, dating as it +does from the times of the ‘<i lang="la">patrium sermonem fugito, <span class="pageNum" id="pb12">[<a href="#pb12">12</a>]</span>Latinum exerceto</i>, of the <i lang="la">Tabula legum</i>.’ <span class="sc">To be furked abroad</span> is a less complimentary term implying that a ‘man’ has been ‘shuffling’; it is specially +applied to those who having ‘gone continent’ in the morning are sent back to school +by the doctor at 9 a.m. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abroaded</b> (society).—<i>See</i> quotation, and compare with <span class="sc">abroad</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">H. O. Manton</span>, <i>Slangiana</i>, p. 11 (<i>See</i> Bibliography). Fashionable slang for a noble defaulter on the Continent (<i>sic<span id="xd33e1654"></span></i>) to avoid creditors. It is the police official slang for convicts sent to a colonial +or penal settlement, but it is applied by thieves to transportation either at home +or in the Colonies. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abs</b> (Win. Coll.)—1. An abbreviation of ‘absent’ placed against the name of a boy when +absent from the school. +</p> +<p>2. <i>v. tr.</i>, to take away. Formerly, <i>circa</i>, 1840, <span class="sc">to abs</span> a tolly (candle), meant to put it out; now it would mean to take it away whether +lighted or unlighted, the modern ‘notion’ for putting it out being to ‘dump’ it. +</p> +<p>3. <i>v. n.</i> To get away; generally used in the imperative, as, ‘<span class="sc">abs!</span>’ ‘Oh! do <span class="sc">abs</span>!’ Sometimes, however, a fellow is said <span class="sc">to abs</span> quickly, and <span class="sc">mess things</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) are <span class="sc">absed</span> (<i>trans.</i>), or put away. +</p> +<p>4. <span class="sc">To have one’s wind absed</span> is to have it taken away by a violent blow in the stomach. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abscotchalater</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—Quoted by H. O. Manton in <i>Slangiana</i> as ‘one who is hiding away from the police.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Absquatulate</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Absence</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Eton).—Names-calling, which takes place at 3 p.m. and 6 p.m. on half-holidays; and +at 11.30 a.m., 3 p.m., and 6 p.m. on whole holidays; at 6 p.m. only in summer half. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Absent Without Leave</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (thieves’).—Said of one who has broken prison; or (popular) absconded. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Absit</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Cambridge).—<i>See</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <span class="sc">Dickens’s</span> <i>Dictionary of the University of Cambridge</i>, p. 3. Every undergraduate wishing to leave Cambridge for a whole day, not including +a night, must obtain an ‘<span class="sc">absit</span>’ from his tutor. Permission to go away for a longer period, either at the end of +the term or in the middle, is called an ‘exeat,’ and no undergraduate should go down +without obtaining his ‘exeat.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Abskize</b>, <b>Abschize</b>, <i>v.</i> (American).—To depart; go away. Said to be of Western origin, and to have been in +use about 1883. Of rare and probably local usage. It has been derived from the Dutch +<i lang="nl">afscheyden</i>; Ger. <i lang="de">abscheiden</i> of similar meaning; a not unlikely origin, bearing in mind the large Dutch and German +element in the U.S.A. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Absquatulate</b>, also <b>Absquotilate</b>, <i>v.</i> (American).—To run away; to decamp; with the more or less forcible idea of absconding +in disgrace. A factitious word, of American origin and jocular use, simulating a Latin +form, perhaps from Latin <i lang="la">ab</i> and <i>squat</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, to settle on land, especially public or new lands, without any title or right whether +of purchase or permission, though in Australia the term is employed in a more <span class="pageNum" id="pb13">[<a href="#pb13">13</a>]</span>restricted sense for a sub-lessee of the government at a nominal rent. It was first +used by Mr. Hackett, as Nimrod Wildfire, a Kentucky character, in a play called ‘The +Kentuckian,’ by Bernard, produced in 1833. It is now less often heard than formerly, +having been replaced in some degree by the word <span class="sc">skedaddle</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Amputate one’s mahogany</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835–1840. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span>, <i>Clockmaker</i>, 3 S., ch. xiv. ‘What’s the use of legs but to <span class="sc">absquotilate</span> with … when traps are <span class="sic">sot</span> for you.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <i>Punch</i>, Jan. 18, p. 23, col. 1. <span class="sc">The Reward of Merit.</span> <i>Mrs. Lyon Hunter</i>, ‘How do you do, Mr. Brown?<span id="xd33e1807"></span> Let me present you to the Duchess of Stilton! Your Grace, permit me to present to +you <i>Mr. Brown</i>, the distinguished scholar!’ <i>Her Grace</i> (affably). ‘Charmed to make your acquaintance—er—Mr. Brown!’ <i>Mr. Brown</i> (with effusion). ‘Your Grace is really too kind. This is the <i>ninth</i> time I’ve enjoyed the distinction of being presented to your Grace within the last +twelve months; but it’s a distinction I value so highly, that without trespassing +too much on your Grace’s indulgence, I hope I may be occasionally permitted to enjoy +it <i>again</i>.<span>’</span> [<i>Bows</i>, and <span class="sc">absquatulates</span>.<span class="corr" id="xd33e1828" title="Not in source">]</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, August 20, p. 6, col. 1. Yet who knows but that some day an accident may happen +to the Aberdeenshire works of art … the sense of the cartoons be totally subverted—in +Rabelaisian phrase, ‘absquashed and <span class="sc">absquatulated</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Academician</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The inmate of a brothel. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Academy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A disorderly house; a brothel; a bagnio. Grose remarks that these establishments +were also called <span class="sc">pushing schools</span>. The old brothels have of late years rapidly disappeared, their places being taken +by what are known as <span class="sc">bed houses</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). These vary in character as regards style, equipment, and cost, but of whatever +grade, rooms may be had for longer or shorter periods as required. The French call +them <i lang="fr">maisons de societé</i>; <i lang="fr">maisons de passe</i>; <i lang="fr">foutoirs</i>, and <i lang="fr">gros numéros</i>, the last from the fact, that these semi-private brothels bear a number of large +dimensions over the entrance. The French have also a somewhat analogous term for the +mistress of an <i lang="fr">académie</i> in <i lang="fr">l’institutrice</i>, the teacher. In the <span class="sc">finishing academy</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) the inmates are young prostitutes, the next stage in whose downward career is taken +on the streets. +</p> +<p>2. According to the N.Y. Slang Dictionary, a penitentiary or prison for minor offences. +</p> +<p>3. A thieves’ school; also a band of thieves. There are establishments of similar +character bearing more distinctive names, <i>e.g.</i>: +</p> +<p>4. <span class="sc">Buzzing Academy</span> (thieves’).—A school for thieves, chiefly boys. Fagan, the old Jew in <i>Oliver Twist</i>, will occur to mind, as also the devices by which he taught his gang to pick pockets +and pilfer adroitly. +</p> +<p>5. <span class="sc">Canting Academy</span> (vagrants’).—A house of call or common lodging house, frequented by the fraternity; +a cadger’s dossing ken. The term is also applied to any house where application for +food or money is likely to be successful. At the regular ‘beggar’s house’—establishments +which abound more or less in every town—information can be obtained so that the district +can be thoroughly and systematically ‘worked.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb14">[<a href="#pb14">14</a>]</span></p> +<p>6. <span class="sc">Character Academy.</span>—At these places false characters are drawn up, to say nothing of the concoction of +schemes of robbery. +</p> +<p>7. <span class="sc">Floating Academy</span> (thieves’).—The hulks or prison ships were formerly so-called. When the regulations +as regards transportation were relaxed, convicts condemned to hard labour were sent +on board these vessels. +</p> +<p>8. <span class="sc">Gammoning Academy.</span>—A reformatory. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Acause</b>, <i>conj.</i> (vulgar).—A corruption of ‘because.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Accommodation House</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A brothel. Also frequently applied to what in police court phraseology +are known as disorderly houses, <i>i.e.</i>, houses where rooms can be hired for shorter or longer periods as desired.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bed house</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>According to Cocker.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Cocker</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>According to the Revised Statutes.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Revised statutes</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Account.</b> <span class="sc">To go on the account</span>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (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. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Letter to a Friend</i>. I hope it is no new thing for gentlemen of fortune who are <span class="sc">going on the account</span> to change a captain now and then. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To account for</span> (sporting).—To kill; literally to be answerable for bringing down one’s share of +the shooting<span id="xd33e1977">;</span> to make away with. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846–48. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Vanity Fair</i>, ch. xx. The persecuted animals [rats] bolted above ground: the terrier <span class="sc">accounted for</span> one, the keeper for another. +</p> +<p class="cit">1858. <i>Letter from Lahore</i>, 28 September, in <i>Times</i>, 19 November. In the course of one week they were hunted up and <span class="sc">accounted for</span>; and you know that in Punjab phraseology <span class="sc">accounting for</span> means the extreme fate due to mutineers. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Accounts.</b> <span class="sc">To cast up one’s accounts</span>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (old cant).—To vomit. Still common; quoted by Grose [1785]. The expression sometimes +runs, amongst seafaring men, <span class="sc">to audit one’s accounts at the Court of Neptune</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Eng. Synonyms.</span> To shoot the cat; to cat. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Semer des miettes</i> (lit. to sow or scatter crumbs); <i lang="fr">piquer le renard</i> (lit. to goad the fox<span class="corr" id="xd33e2030" title="Not in source">)</span>. <i>Cf.</i> ‘to shoot the cat.’ The old French phrase was <i lang="fr">chasser</i> or <i lang="fr">escorcher le renard</i>, 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’; <i lang="fr">renverser</i> (lit. to overturn, to upset); <i lang="fr">faire restitution</i> (lit. to make amends; to restore); <i lang="fr">revoir la carte</i> (lit. to look at the bill of fare again). +</p> +<p>(Thieves’).—To turn Queen’s evidence. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Accumulatives</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—These journalistic sparring matches are essentially a ‘Yankee notion.’ +In England they are called <span class="sc">codicils</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), 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. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb15">[<a href="#pb15">15</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Accumulator</b>, <i>subs.</i> (racing).—A bettor, who when successful with one horse, carries forward the stakes +to another event. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ace of Spades</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—A widow. Though obsolete in England, it is quoted by the <i>New York Slang Dictionary</i> (1881) as still current in America. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ack</b>, <i>intj.</i> (Christ’s Hospital).—No! refusal of a request, <i>e.g.</i>, ‘Lend me your book.’ ‘<span class="sc">Ack!</span>’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ackman</b>, <b>Ackpirate</b> (old), Or <b>Ackruff</b> (American), <i>subs.</i>—A freshwater thief; a ruffian who in conjunction with watermen robs and sometimes +murders on the water. [<span class="sc">Ack</span> (unknown derivation, unless a corrupted form of ark, a boat; or wherry) + <span class="sc">man</span>, etc.] Quoted by Grose [1785], and also by Clark Russell, in <i>Sailor’s Language</i> [1883]. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Acknowledge the Corn</b>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (American).—To make an admission of failure; to admit being outwitted. The various +stories professing to account for derivation are discussed in detail in <i>Americanisms, Old and New</i>: 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 <span class="sc">acknowledge the corn</span>.<span>’</span> [De Vere’s <i>Americanisms</i> [1872] p. 47.] Latterly the expression has been used in England in the sense of simply +to make an admission. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span> (<span class="sc">Sam Slick</span>), <i>The Season Ticket</i>, No. 9. ‘He had a beard that wouldn’t <span class="sc">acknowledge the corn</span> to no man’s.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <span class="sc">Bacon</span>, <i>Handbook of America</i>, p. 361. <span class="sc">Acknowledge the corn</span>, to confess a charge or imputation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">G. A. Sala</span>, <i>Living London</i>, p. 97. Mr. Porter <span class="sc">acknowledges the corn</span> as regards his fourteen days’ imprisonment, and is forgiven by his loving consort. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Acorn.</b> <span class="sc">A horse foaled of an acorn</span>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—The gallows. Euphemisms for hanging, the ‘tree’ itself, and the victim of +the law’s majesty were, at the time when the <span class="pageNum" id="pb16">[<a href="#pb16">16</a>]</span>death penalty was a common punishment, both many and curious. <span class="sc">A horse foaled of an acorn</span>, is obviously an allusion to the timber of which the <span class="sc">triple tree</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) was constructed. The widows of those who had suffered the extreme penalty of the +law were termed <span class="sc">hempen widows</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); the children of such, or those likely to meet with death by hanging, <span class="sc">hempseed</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); and <span class="sc">hempen fever</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) represented the dread malady itself. +</p> +<p class="cit">1760–61. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Sir L. Greaves</i>, 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 <span class="sc">a horse that was foaled of an acorn</span> (<i>i.e.</i>, he had nearly met with the fate of Absalom). +</p> +<p class="cit">1827. <span class="sc">Lytton</span>, <i>Pelham</i>, ch. lxxxii. ‘The cove … is as pretty a Tyburn blossom as ever was brought up to +ride <span class="sc">a horse foaled by an acorn</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Jack Sheppard</i> [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 <span class="sc">a horse foaled by an acorn</span>, if I can help it. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Acquaintance.</b> To <span class="sc">scrape acquaintance</span>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (common).—To make acquaintance. Probably from ‘bowing and scraping’ to a person, +in order to curry favor. +</p> +<p class="cit">1698. <span class="sc">Farquhar</span>, <i>Love and a Bottle</i> [ed. 1711], p. 5, <i>Lucinda</i>. Pray good Cæsar, keep off your paws; no <span class="sc">scraping acquaintance</span> for Heaven’s sake. +</p> +<p>This phrase has a classical origin, an account of which from the pen of Dr. Doran, +F.S.A., appears in the <i>Gentleman’s Magazine</i> [N.S. xxxix. 230] in an article on ‘The Masters of the Roman World during the Happiest +Years of the Human Race.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">There is an anecdote connected with Hadrian and the custom of bathing, from which +is derived the proverbial saying of <span class="sc">scraping an acquaintance</span>. 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 <span class="sc">scrape acquaintance with me</span>!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Acquisitive</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—Plunder; booty; pickings. A noun formed from the adjective. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Acreocracy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The landed interest. Possibly of American coinage [of simulated Greek formation, +from English <span class="sc">acre</span> + Greek <span class="trans" title="krateō"><span lang="grc" class="grek">κρατέω</span></span>, to hold sway or to govern]. Compare with democracy, mobocracy, aristocracy, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1878. <i>Hallberger’s Illustrated Magazine</i>, p. 622. The introduction of a plutocracy among the aristocracy and the <span class="sc">acreocracy</span> though it has tended somewhat to vulgarize our social institutions, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Acres</b>, <i>subs.</i> (theatrical)<span>.</span>—A coward. From Bob <span class="sc">Acres</span>, in Sheridan’s <i>Rivals</i> [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.’ +<i>Cf.</i>, Abigail for a waiting maid; Samson for a <span class="pageNum" id="pb17">[<a href="#pb17">17</a>]</span>strong man; Job for a monument of patience, and others. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Across Lots.</b> <span class="sc">To go across lots</span>, <i>verb. phr.</i>—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 +<i>across</i> vacant <i>lots</i>. Brigham Young familiarized its idiomatic use in the now notoriously historic saying +attributed to that ‘Saint,’—‘We’ll send them (the Gentiles) to hell <i>across lots</i>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">Lowell</span>, <i>Biglow Papers</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Past noontime they went trampin’ round </p> +<p class="line">An’ nary thing to pop at found, </p> +<p class="line">Till, fairly tired o’ their spree, </p> +<p class="line">They leaned their guns agin a tree, </p> +<p class="line">An’ jest ez they wuz settin’ down </p> +<p class="line">To take their noonin’, Joe looked roun’ </p> +<p class="line">And see (<span class="sc">acrost lots</span> in a pond </p> +<p class="line">That warn’t mor’n twenty rod beyond), </p> +<p class="line">A goose that on the water sot </p> +<p class="line">Ez ef awaitin’ to be shot. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1854. <span class="sc">J. C. Neal</span>, <i>Charcoal Sketches</i>, i., p. 35 [to a grumbler]:—‘You would cut <span class="sc">across the lot</span>, like a streak of lightning, if you had a chance.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Scribner’s Magazine.</i> ‘I didn’t see Crossby go by, did you?’ ‘He’d have had to foot it by the path <span class="sc">cross-lots</span>, replied Ezra, gravely, from the doorstep.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Acteon</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A cuckold; from the horns planted on the head of Acteon by Diana. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Acting the Deceitful</b>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (old theatrical).—Performing; mumming; acting.—<i>Duncombe.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Active Citizen</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A louse. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Chates</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Act of Parliament</b>, <i>subs.</i> (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, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cold blood</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Actual.</b> <span class="sc">The actual</span>, <i>subs.</i> (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’—<i>Old Saw</i>] 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<span>.</span> This applies equally to English slang, and to the French, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese +argots. Compare for example the English ‘feathers’ with the Spanish <i lang="es">amigos</i> (friends), the Italian <i lang="it">agresto</i> (sour grapes), and the French <i lang="fr">du foin</i> (hay), or <i lang="fr">de l’os</i> (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:— +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Eng. Synonyms.</span> Ballast; beans; blunt (<i>i.e.</i>, specie,—not soft, or rags, <i>i.e.</i>, bank-notes); brads; brass; bustle; coal; coppers (copper money, or mixed pence); +chink; chinkers; chips; corks; dibs; dimmock; dinarly; <span class="pageNum" id="pb18">[<a href="#pb18">18</a>]</span>dirt; dooteroomus (or doot); dumps; dust; dye stuffs; feathers; family plate (silver); +dollars; gent (silver,—from <i lang="la">argent</i>); 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’ (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Argot.</span> <i lang="fr">De l’artiche</i> (thieves’: <i lang="fr">retirer de l’artiche</i>, is to pick the pockets of a drunkard); <i lang="fr">du morningue</i>; <i lang="fr">du foin</i> (lit. hay); <i lang="fr">du plâtre</i> (thieves’: lit. plaster); <i lang="fr">du poussier</i> (thieves’: lit. coal-dust; <i>Cf.</i>, English ‘coal’ and ‘dust’); <i lang="fr">des soldats</i> (thieves’: Falstaff, in <i>Merry Wives of Windsor</i>, ii., 2, says ‘money is a good soldier’); <i lang="fr">de la mornifle</i> (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); <i lang="fr">de la sauvette</i> (also a basket used by rag-pickers and collectors of street refuse); <i lang="fr">de l’huile</i> (lit. oil); <i lang="fr">du beurre</i> (pop.: lit. butter); <i lang="fr">de la braise</i> (pop.: <i lang="fr">ma braise</i> is a term of endearment among the Lyonnais, and is equivalent to <i lang="fr">mon trésor</i>, my treasure); <i lang="fr">du bath</i> (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 <i lang="fr">papier bath</i> became synonymous with excellent paper. In a short time the qualifying term alone +remained, and received a general application.—<i>Argot and Slang</i>); <i lang="fr">du graissage</i> (pop.: lit. grease, <i>Cf.</i>, ‘palm oil,’ and ‘greasing the palm’ in English slang); <i lang="fr">de la thune</i> (thieves’: in old French cant the <i lang="fr">Roi de la Thune</i> 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 <i lang="fr">La Thune</i>. 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); <i lang="fr">de la miche de profonde</i> (pop. and thieves’: this exactly corresponds to the English ‘loaver’); <i lang="fr">de l’oignon pèse</i> (pop.: lit. heavy onion. <i>Cf.</i>, Fourbesque <i lang="fr">argume</i>); <i lang="fr">du sable</i> (pop.: lit. sand); <i lang="fr">des pimpions</i> (thieves’: <i>Qy.</i>, from <i lang="fr">pimpant</i>, fine, spruce, smart); <i lang="fr">de l’os</i> (familiar: lit. bone); <i lang="fr">du nerf</i> (lit. sinew. <i>Cf.</i>, English ‘sinews of war’); <i lang="fr">des pepettes</i> (pop.: <span id="xd33e2551"></span><i lang="fr">pepette</i>, a coin of the value of fifty centimes); <i lang="fr">des achetoires</i> (pop.: from <i lang="fr">acheter</i>, to buy); <i lang="fr">de la galette</i> (pop.: lit. sea biscuit); <i lang="fr">des picaillons</i> (pop.: probably a corruption of <i lang="fr">picaron</i>, a Spanish coin); <i lang="fr">de ce qui se pousse</i> (pop.: that which pushes <span class="pageNum" id="pb19">[<a href="#pb19">19</a>]</span>itself forward. <i>Cf.</i>, English proverb, ‘It’s money makes the mare to go’); <i lang="fr">de quoi</i> (pop.: the wherewithal. <i>Cf.</i>, English ‘the needful,’ the ‘ready’), <i lang="fr">de l’oignon</i> (pop.: lit. onion. Fourbesque has also <i lang="fr">argume</i>, lit. in Italian, an onion); <i lang="fr">de l’oseille</i> (pop.: lit. sorrel); <i lang="fr">de la douille</i> (thieves’ and pop.: from a kind of large fig much esteemed in Paris); <i lang="fr">des jaunets</i> (lit. buttercups. <i>Cf.</i>, English ‘yellow-boys’); <i lang="fr">des sous</i> (lit. pence); <i lang="fr">de la graisse</i> (pop. and thieves’: lit. ‘grease.’ <i>Cf.</i>, palm oil); <i lang="fr">de l’affare</i> (a thieves’ term, probably from the argotic verb <i lang="fr">affurer</i>, to cheat, steal, or deceive); <i lang="fr">du metal</i> (lit. metal); <i lang="fr">du zinc</i> (lit. zinc); <i lang="fr">du pèze</i> (from the Italian <i lang="it">pezzo</i>, a piece; Spanish <i lang="es">peso</i>, a silver coin, weighing an ounce); <i lang="fr">du pedzale</i>; <i lang="fr">des noyaux</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">des sonnettes plombes</i> (<i lang="fr">plomb</i> = lead); <i lang="fr">des sonnettes</i> (lit. bells. <i>Cf.</i>, English ‘chinkers’); <i lang="fr">du quantum</i> (from the Latin); <i lang="fr">du gras</i> (lit. fat); <i lang="fr">de l’atout</i> (lit. trumps in cards); <i lang="fr">de l’huile de main</i> (lit. hand oil, the English ‘palm grease’); <i lang="fr">des patards</i> (obsolete copper coins, value ¼d.; now applied particularly to a two-sous piece, +and to money generally); <i lang="fr">de la vaisselle de poche</i> (lit. pocket plate: <i lang="fr">vaisselle</i> = gold and silver plate); <i lang="fr">du carme</i> (from the game of <i>Trictrac</i>); <i lang="fr">de la pécune</i> (lit. cash); <i lang="fr">des ronds</i> (lit. circles; from the shape of coins); <i lang="fr">de la bille</i> (from <i>billon</i>); <i lang="fr">du “sine quâ non”</i> (from the Latin; meaning obvious); <i lang="fr">du sit nomen</i> (from the Latin); <i lang="fr">quibus</i> (an abbreviation of <i lang="fr">quibus fiunt omnia</i>). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Italian Fourbesque.</span> <i lang="it">Agresto</i> (lit. sour grapes); <i lang="it">albume</i> (lit. white of egg), <i lang="it">argume</i> (lit. onions); <i lang="it">asta</i>, <i lang="it">asti</i> (from Ital. <i lang="it">asta</i>, a staff); <i lang="it">contramaglia</i> (silver money); <i lang="it">brunotti</i> (lit. brownish); <i lang="it">penne</i> (lit. feathers); <i lang="it">smilzi</i> (from Ital. <i lang="it">smilzi</i> = menu); <i lang="it">squame</i> (lit. chips or scales). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Spanish Germania.</span> <i lang="es">Amigos</i> (lit. friends); <i lang="es">florin</i> (here can be traced the Spanish connection with the Netherlands); <i lang="es">sangre</i> (lit. blood). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Portuguese <span id="xd33e2761" lang="pt">Calão</span>.</span>—<i lang="pt">Parne.</i> +</p> +<p><span class="sc">German Synonyms</span> (<span class="sc">Gaunersprache</span>).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Gilt</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ad.<span id="xd33e2783">,</span></b> <b>Adver.</b> <i>subs.</i> (printers’).—An abbreviated form of ‘advertisement.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Household Words</i>, xiii., 9. The really interesting <span class="sc">ads</span> are in the body of the paper. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>New York Times</i>, Ap. 6. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">[The country editor’s wife—] … reads the <span class="sc">ads</span> with the editor, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Just to find what each has paid. </p> +<p class="line">‘But the column <span class="sc">ad</span> of the jeweller, there,’ </p> +<p class="line">So he says, ‘and the harness, and human hair, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Must be taken out in trade!’ </p> +<p class="line">She wears the corsets he gets for <span class="sc">ads</span>, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And rattles his sewing machine; </p> +<p class="line">She uses the butter, and cups, and things, </p> +<p class="line">The country subscriber so faithfully brings, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">With a cheerfulness seldom seen. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Adam</b>, <i>subs.</i> (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. +</p> +<p class="cit">1598. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Comedy of Errors</i><span id="xd33e2843">,</span> iv., 3. <i>Ant<span>.</span> S.</i>… What Adam dost thou mean? <i>Dro. S.</i> Not that Adam that kept the Paradise, but that <span class="sc">Adam</span> that keeps the prison: he that goes into the calf-skin that was killed for the prodigal. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <i>Sinks of London Laid Open</i>, p. 96. <span class="sc">Adam</span>, a henchman, an accomplice. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb20">[<a href="#pb20">20</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Adam’s Ale</b>, or sometimes simply <b>Adam</b>, and in Scotland <b>Adam’s Wine</b>.—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. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Eng. Synonyms.</span> Fish broth; <i lang="la">aqua pompaginis</i>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French.</span> <i lang="fr">Anisette de barbillon</i> (a popular term); <i lang="fr">essence de parapluie</i> (popular: lit. essence of umbrella); <i lang="fr">l’Adam’s ale</i> (a literal translation of the English term); <i lang="fr">limonade</i> (popular: a caustic comment surely upon the virtues of lemonade); <i lang="fr">lance</i> (popular and thieves’: this term also does duty for ‘rain’; properly written <i lang="fr">l’ance</i>, derived from the Spanish Germania <i lang="es">ansia</i>, itself an abbreviation of <i lang="es">angustia</i>, an allusion to the employment of water as a means of torture); <i lang="fr">sirop</i> or <i lang="fr">ratafia de grenouilles</i> (popular: lit. syrup of frogs); <i lang="fr">sirop de l’aiguière</i> (popular: lit. pitcher syrup); <i lang="fr">sirop de baromètre</i> (popular, barometer syrup). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">German Gaunersprache.</span> <i lang="de">Gänsewein</i> (lit. goose-wine). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Italian Fourbesque.</span> <i lang="it">Lenza</i> (the remarks on French <i lang="it">lance</i> quoted above, apply equally here). +</p> +<p class="cit">1643. <span class="sc">Prynne</span>, <i>Sov. Power of Parl.</i>, II., 32. They have been shut up in prisons and dungeons … allowed onely a poore +pittance of <span class="sc">Adam’s ale</span>, and scarce a penny bread a day to support their lives. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1786–9. <span class="sc">Wolcot</span> [P. Pindar], <i>Lousiad</i>, c. ii., line 453. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Old <span class="sc">Adam’s</span> beverage flows with pride, </p> +<p class="line">From wide-mouth’d pitchers, in a plenteous tide. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1884. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, April 1, p. 5, col. 2. The spectral banquet graced now only by <span class="sc">Adam’s ale</span>, or the sick-room toast and water. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <span class="sc">John Coleman</span>, <i>Elfie</i>, pt. I., ch. ii. For my part, I stuck to <span class="sc">Adam’s ale</span>, which Elfie brought from the spring. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Adam Tiler</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old slang).—A pickpocket’s associate; one who receives stolen goods, and then runs +off with them. [From <span class="sc">Adam</span>, an accomplice + <span class="sc">tiler</span>, a watchman. <i>Cf.</i>, Masonic term.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Fence</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Added to the List</b> (racing).—An abbreviation of ‘added to the list of geldings in training.’ Among French +thieves, <i lang="fr">désatiller</i> is the term employed to signify castration; or, where the operation is performed +upon a man, <i lang="fr">abélardiser</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, to mutilate a man, as Chanoine Fulbert mutilated Abélard, the lover of his daughter +or niece, Héloise. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Addition</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A term for various toilet requisites, used by women; such as paint, rouge, +powder, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1704. <span class="sc">Centlivre</span>, <i>Platonick Love</i>, Act iii., Scene 1. <i>Milliner.</i> Be pleased to put on the <span class="sc">addition</span> madam. <i>Mrs. Dowdy.</i> What does she mean now? to pull my skin off, mehap, next. Ha, Peeper, are these your +London fashions? <i>Peeper.</i> No, no, <span class="sc">addition</span> is only paint, madam. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Addition, Division, and Silence!</b> <i>phr.</i> (American).—A Philadelphia expression, which, for a time, had a vogue as a catch +phrase. It is properly rendered <span class="sc">multiplication, division, and silence!</span> William M. Tweed, or as he is more familiarly known ‘Boss’ Tweed, is generally credited +with this expression. Being asked what in <span class="pageNum" id="pb21">[<a href="#pb21">21</a>]</span>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 <span class="sc">multiplication, division, and silence!</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Addle Cove</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A foolish man; an easy dupe; literally, a <span class="sc">rank sucker</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), 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 <span class="asc">A.D.</span> 1250. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Adept</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—An expert amongst the light-fingered gentry. It is quite an open question +whether <span class="sc">adept</span>, even in a thief’s sense, can fairly be classed as slang, the meaning being obviously +identical with that commonly attached to the word. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Adjective Jerker</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (literary).—A term of derision applied, like <span class="sc">ink-slinger</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), 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. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>St. Louis Globe Democrat</i>, April 29. Genevieve spent four hours last night in constructing a three-line letter, +which she sent to an <span class="sc">adjective jerker</span> on a society weekly, and in which she said she would spend the summer months in the +Rocky Mountains. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Adjutant’s Gig</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (military).—The barrack roller. Men under punishment are generally put to the task +of drawing this machine. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Admiral.</b> <span class="sc">To tap the Admiral</span>, <i>verb phr.</i> (nautical).—A practice otherwise known as ‘<span class="sc">sucking the monkey</span>.’ Explained in <i>Peter Simple</i> 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 <i lang="de">Den affen saugen</i>, to ‘suck the monkey,’ with the same signification. +</p> +<p>Nowadays it is applied to drinking on the sly from a cask by inserting a straw through +a gimlet hole, and to drinking generally. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>Ingoldsby Legends</i> (the Black Mousquetaire). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">What the vulgar call <span class="sc">sucking the monkey</span>, </p> +<p class="line">Has much less effect on a man when he’s funky. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Admiral of the Blue</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—A publican or tapster; from the colour of his apron; now obsolete. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Admiral of the red</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1731. <i>Poor Robin</i> [Pseudonym of Robert Herrick] Almanac. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">As soon as customers begin to stir, </p> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">The admiral of the blue</span>, cries, ‘Coming, sir!’ </p> +<p class="line">Or if grown fat, the mate his place supplies; </p> +<p class="line">And says, ’tis not my master’s time to rise. <span class="pageNum" id="pb22">[<a href="#pb22">22</a>]</span></p> +<p class="line">Of all our trades, the tapster is the best, </p> +<p class="line">He has more men at work than all the rest. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Admiral of the Narrow Seas</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (nautical).—A man who, under drink, vomits into the lap of his neighbour or <i>vis-à-vis</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Admiral of the Red</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (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 <span class="sc">admirals of the red</span> <i lang="fr">betterave</i> (lit. a beetroot); also <i lang="fr">un piton passé à l’encaustique</i>; and <i lang="fr">un piffard</i>. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Admiral of the blue</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Admiral of the White</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (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, <span class="sc">admiral of the blue</span>, and <span class="sc">admiral of the red</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Admirals of the Red, White, and Blue</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (familiar).—Beadles; hall-porters; and such-like functionaries when sporting their +gorgeous liveries of office. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Adonize</b>, <i>verb.</i> (rare). [French <i lang="fr">adoniser</i>; from <span class="sc">adonis</span> + <span class="sc">ize</span>].—To make beautiful or attractive; to adorn oneself with a view of attracting admiration; +said only of men. +</p> +<p class="cit">1818. <span class="sc">S. E. Ferrier</span>, <i>Marriage</i>, ch. ix. ‘Venus and the Graces, by Jove!’ exclaimed Sir Sampson, bowing with an air +of gallantry; ‘and now I must go and <span class="sc">adonize</span> a little myself.’ The company then separated to perform the important offices of +the toilette. +</p> +<p class="cit">1850. <span class="sc">F. E. Smedley</span>, <i>Frank Fairleigh</i>, 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 <span class="sc">adonize</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Adsum</b>, <i>verb.</i> (Charterhouse).—The response made in answering to names-calling. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>The Newcomes</i>, 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, +‘<span class="sc">adsum</span>,’ 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.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Adullamites</b>, <i>subs.</i> (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<span id="xd33e3272">.</span> In the debate on the 30th March John Bright said they had agreed to draw back into +a political cave of <span class="sc">adullam</span>. The reference is to those who, with King David, took refuge in the cave of <span class="sc">adullam</span> (1 Sam. xxii., 1). The political party in question were also known collectively as +‘The Cave.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb23">[<a href="#pb23">23</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1878–80. <span class="sc">Justin McCarthy</span>, <i>History of Our Own Times</i>, p. 142. The little third party were at once christened the <span class="sc">adullamites</span>, and the name still survives and is likely long to survive its old political history. +<i>Ibid<span>.</span></i>, p. 143. The wild cheers of the Conservatives and the <span class="sc">adullamites</span> showed on which ‘sword sat laurel victory.’ <i>Ibid<span>.</span></i>, p. 152. [Lord Derby] had at once invited the leading members of the <span class="sc">adullamite</span> party to accept places in his Administration. +</p> +<p>The primary usage has been extended as explained in the following quotations. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <i>Notes and Queries</i>, March 5, p. 241. The Scriptural ‘<span class="sc">cave of adullam</span>’ has become an adopted byword for a small clique who unite to obstruct the party +with which they usually associate. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>New York Times</i>, July 19. The Conservative party then presented a tolerably solid front against the +extension of the franchise, and received besides a large reinforcement of <span class="sc">adullamites</span> from the Liberal side. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Advance Backward</b>, <i>verb.</i> (American).—A rather odd way of expressing retrogression. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Chicago Inter-Ocean</i>, Jan. 23. The advice given to his company by a raw Yankee captain <span class="sc">to advance backward</span>, seems paralleled in the Chicago <i>Tribune</i> of the 18th inst. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Advantage</b> (Californian).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Pocket advantage</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Æger</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Univ.). Lat. sick.—Same as <span class="sc">Ægrotat</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <i>Chambers’ Journal</i>, June 18, p. 395. Dick laughed. ‘I’ll get the receipt from him. I often want a good +thing for an <span class="sc">Æger</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <span class="sc">H. Smart</span>, in <i>Temple Bar</i>, February, p. 213. ‘Instead of applying for leave to my tutor, I had resorted to +the old device of pricking <span class="sc">Æger</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ægrotat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Univ.).—[L. he is sick, 3rd pers. sing. pres. ind. of <i lang="la">ægrotare</i>, to be sick from <i lang="la">ægrotus</i>, sick, from <i lang="la">æger</i>, sick]. In English universities a medical certificate given to a student<span id="xd33e3390">,</span> 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 <span class="sc">Æger</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1794. <i>Gent. Mag.</i>, p. 1085. They [at Cambridge] <i>sported</i> an <span class="sc">Ægrotat</span>, and they <i>sported</i> a new coat! +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">Babbage</span>, <i>Passages from the Life of a Philosopher</i>, 37. I sent my servant to the apothecary for a thing called an <span class="sc">Ægrotat</span>, which I understood … meant a certificate that I was indisposed. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Reading ægrotat.</span>—In some universities leave taken, commonly in December, in order to get time to read +for one’s degree. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Affair of Honour</b><span id="xd33e3427">,</span> <i>subs.</i> (old).—Killing an innocent man in a duel. This euphemism was largely in vogue during +the Regency days. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Affidavit Men</b>, <i>sub. phr.</i> (old slang), or, as they also used to be called, <span class="sc">Knights of the Post</span>.—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.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Straw bail</span> under <span class="sc">Bail</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Affinity</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A cant term in frequent use amongst so-called free-lovers. One’s <span class="sc">affinity</span> 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 <i>vice versâ</i>, in favour of the new attraction, or <span class="sc">affinity</span> as he or she is called. The argument is generally only <span class="pageNum" id="pb24">[<a href="#pb24">24</a>]</span>an excuse for unbridled sexual license; indeed, it is inconceivable that it could +be otherwise, except in a society of seraphs and archangels. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Afflicke</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—<i>See</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1610. <span class="sc">Rowland’s</span> <i>Martin Mark-all</i>, p. 38 (H. Chub’s Repr., 1874). <span class="sc">Afflicke</span>, a theefe. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Afflictions</b>, <i>subs.</i> (drapers’).—Mourning goods, half-mourning being designated <span class="sc">mitigated afflictions</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Affygraphy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—‘It fits to an <span class="sc">affygraphy</span>,’ <i>i.e.</i>, to a nicety—to a T; also of time—‘in an <span class="sc">affygraphy</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Afloat</b>, <i>adv.</i> (common).—On the move; <i lang="fr">en évidence</i>. This term is of nautical origin. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To have one’s back-teeth well afloat</span>, is to be well-primed with liquor; in short, to be in one of the many degrees of +intoxication. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Missouri Republican</i>, 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 <span class="sc">back teeth were well afloat</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>A-Fly</b>, <i>adv.</i> (vulgar).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Fly</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Afterclap</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—An attempt to unjustly extort more in a bargain or agreement than at +first settled upon. <span class="corr" id="xd33e3545" title="Not in source">[</span>Derived from <span class="sc">after</span> + <span class="sc">clap</span>, 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. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>After-Dinner Man; Afternoon’s Man.</b>—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], <span class="sc">Afternoones men</span>—equivalent to <span class="sc">after-dinner men</span>. 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.—<i>See</i> quot. from Earle. +</p> +<p class="cit">1614. <span class="sc">Overbury</span>, <i>A wife, etc.</i> (1638), 196. Make him an <span class="sc">afternoones man</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1621. <b>Burton</b>, <i>Anat. Mel.</i> Democr. to Reader (1657), 44. Bervaldus will have drunkards, <span class="sc">afternoon men</span>, and such as more than ordinarily delight in drink, to be mad. +</p> +<p class="cit">1628. <b>Earle</b>, <i>Microcosmography</i> (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 <span class="sc">afternoones men</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1830. <i>Dublin Sketch Book.</i> The good Baronet (Sir Francis Burdett) was not only a foxhunter, but a celebrated +<span class="sc">after-dinner man</span><span>.</span> It must have been a good bout indeed in which he was worsted. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>After Four</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (Eton).—From 3 to 6 p.m. on half-holidays; 4 to 5 on whole schoolday. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Afternoon Farmer</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (popular).—This expression for one who procrastinates, or who misses an opportunity +is, in <span class="pageNum" id="pb25">[<a href="#pb25">25</a>]</span>reality, a provincialism. It is quoted in more than one of the English Dialect Society’s +<i>Glossaries</i> as a very common phrase for one who is always behind, <i>i.e.</i>, late in preparing his land, in sowing or harvesting his crops. It is only slang +when used figuratively apart from agricultural pursuits. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>After Twelve</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (Eton).—From noon till 2 p.m. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>Good for Nothing</i>, p. 39. I used to visit him regularly in the dear old college from the <span class="sc">after twelve</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Against Collar.</b> <span class="sc">To work against collar</span>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (popular).—To battle or cope with difficulties; ‘to kick against the pricks’; ‘to +pull against the tide.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, 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 <span class="sc">working</span> an uphill game, or <span class="sc">against collar</span>, and that don’t suit their book, and it destroys the independence which is, and always +should be, between the master and the man.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Against the Grain</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (popular).—Against the fibres of the wood; hence, in opposition to the wish; unwillingly; +unpleasantly; reluctantly. ‘It went <span class="sc">against the grain</span> to do it, but I knew I must,’ is a common expression. +</p> +<p class="cit">1673. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>Amboyna</i>, 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 <span class="sc">against the grain</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1693. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>Juvenal</i>, i., 202. Though much <span class="sc">against the grain</span> forc’d to retire. +</p> +<p class="cit">1709. <span class="sc">Steele</span>, <i>Tatler</i>, No. 2. Nothing in nature is so ungrateful as story-telling <span class="sc">against the grain</span>, therefore take it as the author has given it you. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Wilkie Collins</span>, <i>The Moonstone</i>, 1st Period., ch. xi. As I had promised for them, the other servants followed my +lead, sorely <span class="sc">against the grain</span>, of course, but all taking the view that I took. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">W. C. Russell</span>, <i>Jack’s Courtship</i>, ch. xxiii. It went <span class="sc">against my grain</span> to leave the poor chap alone. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Agaze</b>, <i>adv.</i> (American thieves’).—Astonished; open-eyed. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aggerawator</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common); also <b>Haggerawator</b>, 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. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Eng. Synonyms.</span> 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 <i>draw</i> the <i>belles</i>); bow-catchers; spit-curls; lovelocks, etc. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Argot.</span> <i lang="fr">Des guiches</i>; <i lang="fr">des rouflaquettes</i> (from being sported by prostitutes’ bullies), <i lang="fr">des accroche-cœeurs</i> (lit. heart-hooks). +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Sketches by Boz</i>, 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 ‘<span class="sc">aggerawators</span>.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb26">[<a href="#pb26">26</a>]</span></p> +<p>From the following they would appear at one time to have formed part of the personal +adornment of women in Australia. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">Frank Fowler</span>, <i>Southern Lights and Shadows</i>, p. 38. The ladies are addicted to … straw-coloured gloves, and strained hair, embellished +with two or three c’s—<span class="sc">aggravators</span> they call them—running over the temple. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Agility</b>, <i>subs.</i> (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 <span class="sc">agility</span>. The story told is an absurdly vulgar play upon words. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Agitate the Communicator!</b> <i>verb. phr.</i> (common).—Ring the bell! +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Agitator</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A bell-rope, or knocker. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Agogare</b>, <i>intj.</i> (American thieves’).—Be quick! a warning signal [from <span class="sc">agog</span>].—<i>New York Slang Dictionary.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Agony.</b> <span class="sc">To pile up the agony.</span> <i>verbal phr.</i> (popular).—To intensify a statement or relation by exaggerated or blood-curdling +details. Newspapers <i>pile on the agony</i> when ‘writing up’ murder, divorce, and other sensations. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">C. Bronté</span>, in Mrs. Gaskell’s <i>Life</i>, 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 ‘<span class="sc">agony piled</span> sufficiently high’ (as the Americans say), or the colours dashed on to the canvas +with the proper amount of daring. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <span class="sc">W. Black</span>, <i>Beautiful Wretch</i>, 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 <span class="sc">pile up the agony</span> like that.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Agony column</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (popular).—The second column of the <i>Times</i>; 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:— +</p> +<p class="cit">I am not sure of identity. Are you Juan of 1873? Longing to see you.—B. +</p> +<hr class="tb line"><p> +</p> +<p class="clipping">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. +</p> +<hr class="tb line"><p> +</p> +<p class="clipping">Satisfied.—Meet Friday outside Farringdon Street Station, Three p.m. Have slip paper +in coat button-hole.—J. T. +</p> +<hr class="tb line"><p> +</p> +<p class="clipping">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. +</p> +<hr class="tb line"><p> +</p> +<p>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. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">L. Oliphant</span>, <i>Piccadilly</i>, part II., p. 78. The advertisement of the committee, which appeared in the <span class="sc">agony column</span> of the <i>Times</i>, who wanted to know how I wished the money applied. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <span class="sc">W. Black</span>, <i>Beautiful Wretch</i>, ch. xxiii. There were anonymous appeals to the runaways in <span class="sc">agony columns</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb27">[<a href="#pb27">27</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Agony Piler</b>, <i>subs.</i> (theatrical).—An actor who performs blood-curdling parts in sensational plays. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aground</b>, <i>adv.</i> (common).—Stuck fast; stopped; at a loss; ruined; like a boat or vessel <span class="sc">aground</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ain’t</b>, sometimes <b>A’N’T</b>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (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 <i>New English Dictionary</i>, where the earliest example is dated 1778. +</p> +<p class="cit">1710. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Journal to Stella</i>, 24 Nov., Letter ix. I <span class="sc">ain’t</span> vexed at this puppy business of the bishops, although I was a little at first. +</p> +<p class="cit">1800. <span class="sc">Coleridge</span>, <i>Piccolomini</i>, II., xiii. <i>Ter.</i> Where’s the hurry? Come, one other composing draught.… <i>Goetz.</i> Excuse me—<span class="sc">ain’t</span> able. <i>Ter.</i> A thimble-full! <i>Goetz.</i> Excuse me. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Sketches by Boz</i>, p. 275. ‘You are a clever fellow, Tottle, <span class="sc">ain’t</span> you?’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Air and Exercise</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—To have had <span class="sc">air and exercise</span>, signified that one had undergone a whipping at the cart’s tail. About the beginning +of the present century the same operation was termed <span class="sc">shoving the tumbler</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). Among thieves at the present time, <span class="sc">air and exercise</span> means penal servitude; in America it is only applied to a short term of imprisonment. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Airing</b>, <i>subs.</i> (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 <span class="sc">out for an airing</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Evening Standard</i>, 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 <span class="sc">out for an airing</span>, or whether it was on the job. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Air Line</b>, or <b>Air Line Road</b> (American).—<span class="sc">To take the air line</span>; 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 <span class="sc">air line roads</span>, or <span class="sc">straight shoots</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). 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 <span class="sc">air lines</span> 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. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>St. Louis Globe Democrat</i>, 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 <span class="sc">air line</span> or we will not travel. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Florida Times Union Advertisement</i>, Feb. 11. Ask for tickets <i>viâ</i> Augusta or Atlanta and the Piedmont <span class="sc">air line</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb28">[<a href="#pb28">28</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Air One’s Heels</b>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (popular).—To loiter; to hang about. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Air One’s Vocabulary</b>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (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 <span class="sc">airing his vocabulary</span>. The term is now rarely heard, but the practice is with us always. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Airy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vulgar).—A corruption of ‘area,’ <i>e.g.</i>, ‘Down the <span class="sc">airy</span> steps.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>A-Jakes.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Ajax</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ajax</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old). <span class="corr" id="xd33e4070" title="Not in source">(</span>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, <span class="sc">a jakes</span>. In some of the passages the allusion is rather obscure, as in this: +</p> +<p class="cit">1609. <span class="sc">Ben Jonson</span>, <i>Epicœne, or The Silent Woman</i>, iv., 5. A stool were better, sir, of Sir <span class="sc">Ajax</span>, his invention. +</p> +<p>It is plainer in Shakspeare: +</p> +<p class="cit">1594. <i>Love’s Labour Lost</i>, v., 2. Your lion, that holds his poll-ax, sitting on a close stool, will be given +to <span class="sc">Ajax</span>. +</p> +<p>The cause of all this vein of low wit was, perhaps, Sir John Harrington, who in 1596 +published his celebrated tract called <i>The Metamorphosis of</i> <span class="sc">Ajax</span>, by which he meant <i>the improvement of a jakes</i>, or necessary, by forming it into what we now call a <i>water-closet</i>, 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. +</p> +<p class="cit">1611. <span class="sc">Cotgrave</span>, <i>Eng. Treasury</i>, p. 16. Which (like the glorious <span class="sc">Ajax</span> of Lincoln’s Inne, I saw in London) laps up naught but filth and excrements. +</p> +<p class="cit">1720. <i>Hosp. of Incurab. Fooles</i>, p. 6. Adoring Sterculio for a god, no lesse unworthily then shamfully constituting +him a patron and protector of <span class="sc">Ajax</span> and his commodities. +</p> +<p>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, +</p> +<p class="cit">1574–1637. <i>On the Famous Voyage</i>, vol. VI., p. 290: +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">And I could wish for their eterniz’d sakes, </p> +<p class="line">My muse had plough’d with his that sung <span class="sc">A-jax</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">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 +<i>pet</i>, he says, +</p> +<p class="cit">1605. <i>Remains</i>, p. 117. Inquire, if you understand it not, of Cloacina’s Chaplains, or such as are +well read in <span class="sc">Ajax</span>.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Jakes</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Akerman’s Hotel</b>, <i>subs.</i> (obsolete).—Newgate prison was once so called. The governor’s name was <span class="sc">Akerman</span>.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Cage</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Akeybo.</b>—A slang phrase used in the following manner:—He beats <span class="sc">akeybo</span>, and <span class="sc">akeybo</span> beat the devil.—<i>Hotten.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>A-la-Mort.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Amort</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Albany Beef</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (American).—The popular name of the flesh of the sturgeon. This, <span class="pageNum" id="pb29">[<a href="#pb29">29</a>]</span>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 <span class="sc">Albany beef</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Albertopolis</b>, <i>subs.</i> (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. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">E. Yates</span>, <i>Broken to Harness</i>, 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 <span class="sc">albertopolis</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Albonized</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (pugilistic).—Whitened. [From L. <i>albus</i>, white.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alderman</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. A half-crown. This term is explained by Brewer as containing an allusion +to the fact that an alderman is a kind of half-king, whatever that may mean. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Snowden</span>, <i>Mag. Assistant</i>, 3 ed., p. 444. Two shillings and sixpence—<span class="sc">alderman</span>. +</p> +<p>2. A long pipe; also called a <span class="sc">churchwarden</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); in both instances the name is probably an allusion to the <i>penchant</i> these personages had at one time for the long clay. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">Fairholt</span>, <i>Tobacco</i> (1876), 173. Such long pipes were reverently termed <span class="sc">alderman</span> in the last age, and irreverently yards of clay in the present one. +</p> +<p>3. A turkey; a variant is <span class="sc">an alderman in chains</span>; <i>i.e.</i>, a roast turkey well stuffed and garnished with sausages. The latter are said to +be emblematical of the gold chain worn by the civic dignitary—what then about the +stuffing? +</p> +<p class="cit">1782. <span class="sc">George Parker</span>, <i>Humorous Sketches</i>, p. 31. Nick often eat a roast fowl and sausage with me, which in cant is called +an <span class="sc">alderman</span>, double slang’d. +</p> +<p>4. (thieves’).—<span class="sc">A jemmy</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); sometimes <span class="sc">alderman jemmy</span>. A weightier tool is called a Lord Mayor, whereby it is clear that the criminal classes +are not without some kind of respect for the city fathers. The tool is used for burglary +purposes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, May 14, p. 3, col. 7. A complete set of safe-breaking tools had been used and left +behind, including wedges, an <span class="sc">alderman jemmy</span>, a hammer weighing 14 lbs. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Saturday Review</i>, 15 Dec, p. 719. One side of slang was illustrated by the burglar Casey in a well-known +case of robbery in the City some years ago, who explained in Court that the big jemmy +with which iron shutters were prised open was called the ‘<span class="sc">alderman</span>,’ adding, ‘it would never do to be talking about crowbars in the street.’ +</p> +<p>5. <span class="sc">Blood and guts alderman</span>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (popular).—A pompous man; one with a ‘corporation.’ The allusion is to the alleged +or real over-eating and drinking of <span class="sc">aldermen</span> as a class. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alderman Lushington</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Australian).—Intoxicating beverages. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alderman’s Pace.</b>—A slow and stately gait, like that of a burly <span class="pageNum" id="pb30">[<a href="#pb30">30</a>]</span>man as aldermen are generally represented. The French have an equivalent phrase, <i lang="fr">pas d’abbé</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aldgate.</b> <span class="sc">A draught on the pump at Aldgate</span>, <i><span class="corr" id="xd33e4331" title="Source: subst.">subs.</span> phr.</i> (commercial).—A bad bill of exchange. A play on the word ‘draught.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alecampane.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Allacompain</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alecie</b>, <b>Alecy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old nonce words) [from <span class="sc">ale</span> + suffix <span class="sc">cie</span> or <span class="sc">cy</span>, as in ‘lunacy’].—The state of being under the influence of ale; drunkenness; also +balmyness. +</p> +<p class="cit">1594. <span class="sc">J. Lyly</span>, <i>Mother Bombie</i>, cc. 9. If he had arrested a mare instead of a horse, it had beene a slight oversight, +but to arrest a man, that hath no likenesse of a horse, is flat lunasie, or <span class="sc">alecie</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ale-Draper</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old) [from <span class="sc">ale</span> + <span class="sc">draper</span> as in linen-draper].—A humorous title for an alehouse keeper; probably from the ancient +custom of measuring ale by the yard. It long survived dialectically, but is now obsolete. +Synonyms were <span class="sc">rum-cull</span>, and <span class="sc">squirt-quester</span> (<i>q.v.</i>)<span>.</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1593. <span class="sc">Henry Chettle</span>, <i>Kinde-Harts Dreame</i>. Two milch maydens that had set up a shoppe of <span class="sc">ale-drapery</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1747. In <i>Parish Register of Scotter, Linc.</i> [Buried], July 8th, Thomas Broughton, Farmer and <span class="sc">Ale Draper</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ale-Knight</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old) [from <span class="sc">ale</span> + <span class="sc">knight</span>, used derisively].—A tippler; a boon companion. +</p> +<p class="cit">1575. <i>Eccl. Proc., Chester.</i> [The Vicar of Whalley, Lanc., is charged with being a common dronker and <span class="sc">ale knight</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1654. <span class="sc">Witt’s</span> <i>Recreations</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Come all you brave wights, </p> +<p class="line">That are dubbed <span class="sc">ale-knights</span> </p> +<p class="line">Now set out youselves in fight: </p> +<p class="line">And let them that crack </p> +<p class="line">In the praises of sack, </p> +<p class="line">Know malt is of mickle might. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1863–64. <span class="sc">Chambers’</span> <i>Bk. of Days</i>, ii., 597. This man was a regularly dubbed <span class="sc">ale-knight</span>, loved barley wine to the full. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ales</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Stock Exchange).—The shares in the brewery business of S. Allsopp and Sons, Limited, +are thus known. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ale Spinner</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old) [from <span class="sc">ale</span> + <span class="sc">spinner</span>, a manufacturer or producer].—A brewer or publican. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alexandra Limp</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—The name given to an erstwhile fit of semi-imbecility on the part of ‘Society.’ +The Princess of Wales, through a slight infirmity, walks with a suspicion of lameness, +and servile imitation of everything pertaining to royalty caused the sudden appearance +(<i>circa</i> 1860–70) of a crowd of limping petticoated toadies. The craze passed away as suddenly +as it came. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Grecian bend</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <i>Chambers’ Journal</i>, No. 629. Your own advocacy of the Grecian bend and the <span class="sc">Alexandra limp</span>—both positive and practical imitations of physical affliction. [<span class="sc">h.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alfred David</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—An affidavit—obviously a humorous corruption in pronunciation; also <span class="sc">affidavy</span>; and, by an extended process of curtailment, <span class="sc">davy</span>. All are common colloquialisms among the uneducated classes. <span class="sc">After-davy</span> is likewise occasionally heard, generally in connection with a person <i lang="la">in extremis</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Algerine</b>, <i>subs.</i> (theat.)<span>.</span>—A member of a company who, when ‘the ghost’ cannot be induced to walk, <i>i.e.</i>, when the exchequer is low, and salaries are not paid, <span class="pageNum" id="pb31">[<a href="#pb31">31</a>]</span>‘remonstrates’ with the manager. The term is also used to designate the hard-up borrower +of petty sums. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alive and Kicking</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (popular).—An intensive form of ‘<span class="sc">alive</span>’ in its most colloquial sense of being alert and full of action. In the days of Pierce +Egan’s <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, <span class="sc">alive</span> partook far more of the nature of slang than now. Sometimes <span class="sc">all alive and kicking</span> is varied by <span class="sc">all alivo</span>; <span class="sc">knowing</span>; <span class="sc">all fly</span>. The allusion is to a child in the womb after quickening. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Globe</i>, Oct. 4, p. 1, col. 3. Next day there appeared a letter from a Mr. Basil Watts Phillips, +who proclaimed himself as a son of the playwright, and stated, moreover, that his +mother, the playwright’s widow, as well as another son, named Gordon, were—to use +a popular phrase—‘alive and kicking.’ Miss Emma, therefore, could hardly be recognised, +with fairness, as the ‘only living representative of the late Watts Phillips.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Allacompain</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming slang).—Forms: <span class="sc">alacompain</span>, <span class="sc">alicumpane</span>, <span class="sc">elecampain</span>, etc. 1. In the so-called rhyming slang this is the equivalent of rain. +</p> +<p>2. (common).—Candy supposed to be made from the root of <i lang="la">inula helenium</i> or bellwort; it contains, however, little else than colored sugar. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All A-Float</b><span class="corr" id="xd33e4586" title="Not in source">, subs.</span> (rhyming slang).—A coat. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Alive</b>, <i>adv. and adj.</i> (tailors’).—Ill-made garments, and ‘misfits,’ are said to be <span class="sc">all alive</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Along Of</b> (vulgarism).—On account of; by reason of, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All-a-Mort.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Amort</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Around Sports</b>, <i>sub.</i> (American).—Obviously a corruption of ‘<span class="sc">all round sportsmen</span>,’ <i>i.e.</i>, men whose interest in sport is catholic, and all embracing. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All at Sea</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (popular).—In an uncertain, vague condition. Of nautical origin, and perhaps more +colloquial than slang; equivalent to <span class="sc">all abroad</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Brandy</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (common).—When it is desired to commend or speak well of anything it is said to be +<span class="sc">all brandy</span>. The use of such a term suggests curious reflections upon the drinking habits of +those who employ it. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Synonyms.</span> A1; the pure quill; about east; about right; at par; the cheese. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Dickey.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Dickey</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alleviator</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A drink; refreshment. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846. <span class="sc">Mark Lemon</span>, <i>Golden Fetters</i>. If any of you feel thirsty after this exciting interview, I shall be happy to stand +an <span class="sc">alleviator</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Synonyms.</span> Gargle; smile; Alderman Lushington; long sleeved ’un (Australian, when taken from +a long glass); shout; etc.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Gargle</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alley</b>, <b>Ally</b>, <b>Alay</b>, <i>subs.</i> (schoolboys’ term).—A superior kind of marble. Supposed to be a corrupted and abbreviated +form of ‘alabaster,’ of which these superior kind of marbles are sometimes made. <span class="sc">Alley</span> is the name given to the medium sizes, smaller ones <span class="pageNum" id="pb32">[<a href="#pb32">32</a>]</span>being called <span class="sc">mivvies</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), and the largest <span class="sc">bonces</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). The word sometimes appears as <span class="sc">alley tor</span>, or <span class="sc">alley taw</span>. De Foe, in ‘Duncan Campbell,’ as early as 1720, speaks of a large bag of marbles +and <span class="sc">alleys</span>, and at that time the term was considered vulgar. It is interesting to note that +the supposed derivation of <span class="sc">alley</span> from alabaster is borne out by the fact, that among school-boys stone marbles are +called <span class="sc">stoneys</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), and clay ones <span class="sc">commoneys</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). Additional weight is also given to the accuracy of this derivation, when it is +remembered that what are known as ‘<span class="sc">Dutch alleys</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>), are only <span class="sc">stoneys</span> enamelled or glazed different colours. In old Berlin slang, <span class="sc">alley tors</span> were known as <i lang="de">Kalbacher</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All-Fired</b>, <i>adj.</i> <b>All-Firedly</b>, <i>adv.</i> (American).—Thought by most to be a Puritanical corruption of ‘hell-fired,’ and in +that respect a profane euphemistic adjective. In this connection it carries with it +the meaning of ‘immense,’ ‘excessive,’ or ‘inordinate’ in general; but, of course, +the primary signification of this corruption is perfectly obvious. Some, however, +think the word may be taken at its face value [<span class="sc">all</span> + <span class="sc">fire</span> + <span class="sc">ed</span>.], an intensitive of the merely rhetorical fire. Common now on both sides of the +Atlantic. +</p> +<p class="cit">1755. <i>The World</i>, No. 140. How arbitrary is language! and how does the custom of mankind join words, +that reason has put asunder! Thus we often hear of <span class="sc">hell-fire cold</span>, of devilish handsome, and the like. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span>, <i>Clockmaker</i>, 1 S., ch. xxiv. ‘Look at that ’ere Dives,’ they say, ‘what an <span class="sc">all-fired</span> scrape he got into by his avarice with Lazarus<span>.</span>’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Hughes</span>, <i>Tom Brown at Oxford</i>, ch. xl. ‘I knows I be so <span class="sc">all-fired</span> jealous; I can’t abear to hear o’ her talkin’, let alone writin’ to——’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">James Payn</span>, <i>Thicker than Water</i>, ch. xvii. ‘Well,’ he said … ‘you’ve been an <span class="sc">all-fired</span> time you have in selling those jars.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Fly.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Fly</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Fours.</b> <span class="sc">To go</span> or <span class="sc">be on all fours</span>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (popular).—From the four legs of a quadruped, or the two legs and two arms of a child +or man. Hence to go on <span class="sc">all fours</span> is to go evenly, the figure of speech presented being the reverse of limping like +a lame dog. Thence follows the metaphorical use of the phrase in the sense of exact +analogy and similarity of relation. It is thus <span class="corr" id="xd33e4831" title="Source: synomyous">synonymous</span> with ‘as like as two peas’ (the French say, <i lang="fr">comme deux gouttes d’eau</i>, as like as two drops of water); ‘a chip of the old block’; a ‘Chinese copy,’ etc. +At the same time, a show of probability must be conceded to those philologists who +refer the phrase to the masonic symbol of the square, emblematic of harmony and completeness. +Possibly masons gave its use a fresh impetus. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Gammon!</b> <i>phr.</i> (common).—All nonsense; rubbish!—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">All my eye</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Gay</b>, <i>adv.</i> (thieves’).—All serene; all right; the coast is clear. The French <i lang="fr">voleur</i> says, <i lang="fr">c’est franco!</i> +<span class="pageNum" id="pb33">[<a href="#pb33">33</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>All-Get-Out</b>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—That beats <span class="sc">all-get-out</span>, is an old retort to any extravagant story or assertion. Barrère says, ‘oh, get out!’ +appears to have suggested the phrase, which is, perhaps, not altogether obvious. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Hands to the Pump</b>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (old).—An expression borrowed from seafaring life, signifying concentration of energy +in any one direction. Now-a-days we say, ‘a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether’; +this also is a sailor’s phrase. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Holiday at Peckham</b>, <i>proverbial phr.</i> (popular).—No work to do; and, as a concomitant, nothing to eat. A play upon words.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Peckish</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> <span class="sc">All holiday at Peckham</span> … a saying signifying that it is all over with the business or person spoken of or +alluded to. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">Forster</span>, <i>Oliver Goldsmith</i>, bk. I., ch. vi., p. 55 (5ed.) ‘Oh, that is <span class="sc">all a holiday at peckham</span>,’ said an old friend very innocently one day, is a common proverbial phrase. +</p> +<p>It seems that Goldsmith in the early part of his London life passed some miserable +months as usher in a school at Peckham, and the memory of this doleful period was +ever bitter to him<span>.</span> Years afterwards, a friend in conversation happened to speak facetiously of it being +‘all holiday at Peckham,’ and was surprised to find that this innocent reference to +a recognised proverbial phrase was regarded by Goldsmith as an unkind allusion to +his past misery, and, therefore, a personal insult. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Hollow</b>, <i>adv.</i> (popular).—<span class="sc">To beat</span>, or <span class="sc">carry all hollow</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, utterly; completely. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Hot!</b> <i>subs.</i> (common).—A hot potato. A cry used by peripatetic street vendors. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All In</b>, <i>phr.</i> (Stock Exchange).—When the market is depressed and a disposition to sell prevails, +it is said to be <span class="sc">all in</span>. Conversely, <span class="sc">all out</span> signifies that the market is improving. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All in a Pucker.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Pucker</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All in Fits</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (tailors’).—Badly made clothes are said to be <span class="sc">all in fits</span>, or to have a paralytic stroke. Such garments are also said to fit where they touch, +<i>i.e.</i>, nowhere. Now common. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All jaw.</b> <span class="sc">All jaw like a sheep’s head</span>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (common).—Said of one who is a great talker; or, who has the gift of the gab. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 41. ‘Look at the man! hear him; why, he’s <span class="sc">all jaw like a sheep’s head</span>. He was drummed out of the regiment he was in for eating his comrades’ knapsacks.’ +</p> +<p>A synonym is <span class="sc">all mouth</span>.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Jaw</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Lombard Street to a China Orange</b>, <i>phr.</i> (old); sometimes <span class="sc">all Lombard Street to ninepence</span>.—One of many fanciful forms of betting once current among the sporting fraternity; +others were ‘Chelsea College to a sentry box,’ ‘Pompey’s Pillar to a stick of sealing +wax,’ etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Thomas Moore</span>, <i>Tom Cribb’s Memorial to Congress</i>, p. 38<span>.</span> +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">A pause ensued—’till crie of ‘Gregson,’ <span class="pageNum" id="pb34">[<a href="#pb34">34</a>]</span> </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Brought Bob, the poet, on his legs soon,— </p> +<p class="line"><i>My eyes</i>, how prettily Bob writes! </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Talk of your camels, hogs and crabs, </p> +<p class="line">And twenty more such <i>Pidcock</i> frights— </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Bob’s worth a hundred of these dabs, </p> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">All Lombard Street to ninepence</span> on it. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>All Moonshine</b>, <i>adverbial phr.</i> (popular).—Moonshine is in old-fashioned and provincial English ‘an illusive shadow,’ +‘a mere pretence’ [Halliwell]. The expression <span class="sc">it is all moonshine</span> is now variously applied, whether as referring to empty professions, to vain boasts, +to promises not trustworthy, to questionable statements, or to any kind of extravagant +talk. There exist in several languages so many words of <i>lunar</i> connection, all implying variableness or inconstancy, that possibly this phrase also, +<span class="sc">it is all moonshine</span>, may have been primarily employed to express some degree of fickleness, or caprice; +in allusion to the inconstancy or changeableness of the moon, or rather moonlight. +When anyone professes or promises great things, which we do not expect to see realized, +we say <span class="sc">it is all moonshine</span>, for moonshine is very shifty; one week we have it, another we have it not; nay, +it shifts from night to night. ‘Lunes’ in old English, are not only fits of insanity, +but freaks. And the term ‘lunatic’ itself did not properly signify a person always +insane, but one who was mad at intervals, dependent as was supposed on the phases +of the moon. This distinction is still very accurately maintained in Spanish philology: +‘Lunatics, <i lang="es">El loco, cuya demencia no est continua, sino por intervalos que proceden del estado +en que se halla la Luna</i>.’ Hence also in French, modern and old: ‘<i lang="fr">Il a des lunes</i>,’ he is whimsical or fantastic. ‘<i lang="fr">Tenir de la lune</i>,’ to be inconstant, mutable; ‘<i lang="fr">Avoir un quartier de la lune,<span id="xd33e5062"></span> en la teste</i>,’ or <span id="xd33e5065">‘</span><i lang="fr">Il y a de la lune</i>,<span>’</span> he is changeable, giddy, capricious. In the ‘language of symbols’ the moon is the +emblem of hypocrisy, as in the following device: +</p> +<div lang="fr" class="lgouter"> +<p class="line">‘La lune avec ces mots, </p> +<p class="line">Mentiri didicit. </p> +<p class="line">(Elle trompe toujours.) </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">Pour l’hypocrisie, dont la lune est le symbole.’ <span class="sc">Menestriar</span>, <i lang="fr">Philosophie des Images</i>, vol. I., p. 266. +</p> +<p>Another emblem is the following: +</p> +<div lang="fr" class="lgouter"> +<p class="line xd33e5086">‘La lune, </p> +<p class="line xd33e5088">Non vultus non color unus, </p> +<p class="line">Pour une personne qui n’est pas sincère.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first right"><i>Ibid</i>, I., p. 269. +</p> +<p>Moonshine, in conformity with these ideas, was probably employed originally in characterising +the talk of persons too mutable to be relied on from one time to another.—<i>Notes and Queries.</i> +</p> +<p class="cit">1714. <i>Spectator</i>, No. 597. Several of my correspondents have been pleased to send me an account how +they have been employed in sleep, and what notable adventure they have been engaged +in during that <span class="sc">moonshine in the brain</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">Mrs. H. Wood</span>, <i>Johnny Ludlow</i>, 1 S., No. xxii., p. 397. ‘They are all pig-headed together … they are blinded by +specious arguments that will turn out, I fear, to be <span class="sc">all moonshine</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Mouth</b>, <i>adv.</i> (common).—Applied to a loquacious talker. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">All jaw</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All My Eye</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (common).—Variations in form are: <span class="sc">all my eye and Betty Martin</span>—<span class="sc">my elbow</span>—<span class="sc">Tommy</span>—and <span class="sc">my <span class="pageNum" id="pb35">[<a href="#pb35">35</a>]</span>grandmother</span>. All nonsense; rubbish. The suggested derivations of this significant retort to a +tedious narration containing neither rhyme nor reason are as various as the forms +in which the phrase appears. Not so clear, however, is the evidence in support of +any of them, although Barrère unwittingly stumbles upon what is probably the true +origin. Had he studied the subject of slang historically, he would have been able +to adduce adequate proof for what he merely puts forth as a ‘more probable’ derivation +than those of his predecessors. After stating that some have suggested the origin +of the phrase in the Welsh, <span class="sc">al mi hivy</span>, it is very tedious or all nonsense, he says, ‘It seems far more probable that it +is a contraction of the phrase ‘there is as much of it as there is in <span class="sc">all my eye</span>,’ the words being made more forcible by closing one of the organs of vision. To express +dissent from any statement, or a refusal to comply with a request. French slang has +the corresponding term <i lang="fr">mon œil!</i> which is usually accompanied by a knowing wink and a significant gesture as an invitation +to inspect the organ.’ From a comparative study of the dates and examples which follow, +it seems a fair deduction to assume that the original form of the phrase was simply +<span class="sc">all my eye</span>, and that the additional tags given above are later importations. +</p> +<p class="cit">1653. <span class="sc">Archbishop Bramhall</span>, <i>Answer to the Epistle of M. de la Milletière</i> [Works, vol. I., pp. 68–9. ed. Ox. 1842.] Fifthly, suppose (all this notwithstanding) +such a conference should hold, what reason have you to promise to yourself such success +as to obtain so easy a victory? You have had conferences and conferences again at +Poissy and other places, and gained by them just as much as you might <span class="sc">put in your eye</span> and see never the worse. +</p> +<p class="cit">1682. <i>Preface to Julian the Apostate</i> (London, printed for Langley Curtis). What benefit a Popish successor can reap from +lives and fortunes spent in defence of the Protestant religion he may <span class="sc">put in his eye</span>; and what the Protestant religion gets by lives and fortunes spent in the service +of a Popish successor will be over the left shoulder. +</p> +<p class="cit">1768. <span class="sc">Goldsmith</span>, <i>Good-natured Man</i>, Act iii. <i>Bailiff.</i> That’s <span class="sc">all my eye</span>. The king only can pardon. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <span class="sc">Poole</span>, <i>Hamlet Travestied</i>, i, 1. As for black clothes,—<span class="sc">that’s all my eye and Tommy</span>. +</p> +<p>Hotten’s contention, that <span class="sc">all my eye and Betty Martin</span> was a vulgar phrase constructed from the commencement of a Roman Catholic prayer +to St. Martin (the patron saint of drunkards), ‘<i>Oh, mihi, beate Martine</i>,’ which in common with many another fell into discredit and ridicule after the Reformation, +is both fanciful and untrue. In the first place there is no prayer in the Breviary +which answers to the description given; and in the second it has been shown that the +essential part of the phrase is very much older than the Joe Millerism which first +set the copy for every lexicographer of the ‘unwritten word,’ from Hotten down to +Brewer and Barrère, the latter of whom, strangely enough, after pitching on the right +track, stultifies himself by an admission that <span class="sc">all my eye and Betty Martin</span> seems to have been the original phrase. The earliest example of the ‘Betty Martin’ +form, found after <span class="pageNum" id="pb36">[<a href="#pb36">36</a>]</span>long search, occurs in <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress</i>, published in 1819, where it appears simply as <span class="sc">all my eye, Betty</span>, but that the phrase was known long previously is proved by the extract from Poole +quoted above. +</p> +<p>Among <span class="sc">English Synonyms</span> of refusal or incredulity, are: Cock and bull story; a wild-goose chase; a mare’s +nest; fiddle-de-dee; do you see any green in my eye? that’s a flam; over the left; +go teach your grannie to suck eggs; Walker! you be blowed! You be hanged! Not for +Joe! How’s your brother, Job? Don’t you wish you may get it? Yes, in a horn (American); +That’s all round my hat. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Fr.</span> <i lang="fr">Des fadeurs</i> (lit. insipidity); <i lang="fr">C’est des vannes?</i> (lit. floodgates or sluices); <i lang="fr">des nèfles</i> (lit. medlars); <i lang="fr">des navets!</i> (turnips); <i lang="fr">de l’anis!</i> (lit. aniseed); <i lang="fr">du flan!</i> (lit. custard); <i lang="fr">tu t’en ferais mourir!</i> (lit. you will die after it); <i lang="fr">mon œil!</i> (my eye); <i lang="fr">flûte! Zut!</i> (go to the deuce!); <i lang="fr">et ta sœur?</i> (phrase of the ‘who’s your hatter’ stamp); <i lang="fr">des plis!</i> (don’t you wish you may get it); <i lang="fr">la peau!</i> (blow it all!); <i lang="fr">de la mousse!</i> (expression of ironical refusal); <i lang="fr">du vent!</i> (go to pot!); <i lang="fr">des emblèmes!</i>; <i lang="fr">des fouilles!</i>; <i lang="fr">on t’en fricasse!</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Nations</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A mixture of the drainings of all kinds of spirits and malt liquors; it +is of an extremely intoxicating character. Sometimes called <span class="sc">alls</span>, or <span class="sc">all sorts</span>. +</p> +<p>2. A parti-colored dress or coat; a Joseph’s garment. Also one that is patched. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All-Night-Man</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A body snatcher. Now obsolete. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Ramsay</span>, <i>Remin</i>, ser. ii., 133. The body lifters, or <span class="sc">all-night-men</span>, as they were wont to be called. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All of a Heap.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Heap</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All of a Hough</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (tailors’).—Said of an unskilled workman. Equivalent to clumsy; bungling; unworkmanlike. +Hotten quotes this as a Suffolk phrase (<span class="sc">hough</span> being spelt <i>hugh</i>, and pronounced with a grunt). Synonymous with ‘all on one side’; falling with a +thump. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All of my Lone</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (American).—A negro vulgarism for ‘<span class="sc">alone</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All on the Go</b> (vulgarism).—<i>See</i> Go. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Out</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (vulgar).—1. Entirely; completely; by far, as in ‘<span class="sc">all out</span> the best.’ This vulgarism must now be classed among depraved words; but as far as +written English is concerned, it can be traced back to the year 1300. It seems to +have fallen out of use about the middle of the seventeenth century. +</p> +<p class="cit">1830. <span class="sc">Carleton</span>, <i>Traits and Stories</i>, vol. II., p. 102. ‘He’s now in his grave, and, thank God, it’s he that had the dacent +funeral <span class="sc">all out</span>.’ +</p> +<p>2. Another old English expression, now obsolete, is <span class="sc">to drink all out</span>, to empty a bumper; and hence,— +</p> +<p>3. Used substantively, <i>e.g.</i>, an <span class="sc">all out</span> being equivalent to what ’Arry would call now-a-days a <span class="sc">big drunk</span>. The connection between the ancient and modern usage is clear. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb37">[<a href="#pb37">37</a>]</span></p> +<p>4. <span class="sc">To be all out</span> also signifies to be in error; quite wrong. +</p> +<p>5. (turf).—A man is said to be <span class="sc">all out</span> when unsuccessful during the whole of a day’s racing. +</p> +<p>6. (Stock Exchange).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">All in</span>. +</p> +<p>7. (athletic).—Exhausted; said of a man or crew who, having exerted him or themselves +to the utmost, can do no more. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Graphic</i>, April 10, p. 392. Pitman the Cambridge stroke, after passing the ‘Queen’s Head,’ +Mortlake, put on a grand spurt, to which his crew fairly responded, though pretty +well <span class="sc">all out</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All-Overish</b>, <i>adj.</i> (colloquial). An indefinite feeling which pervades the body at critical periods, +when sickening for an illness, or at a moment of supreme excitement, as when about +to ‘pop the question’ which, says Hotten, ‘is sometimes called feeling all over alike, +and touching nowhere.’ Synonyms are ‘to feel all round one’s hat,’ and ‘chippy.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. III., p. 52. ‘When the mob began to gather round, I felt <span class="sc">all-overish</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All-Overishness</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial).—The state of being all-overish.—<i>See</i> foregoing. +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <span class="sc">Ainsworth</span>, <i>Flitch of Bacon</i>, pt. II., ch. v. ‘I feel a sort of shivering and <span class="sc">all-overishness</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1841. <span class="sc">John Mills</span>, <i>Old English Gentleman</i>, ch. xxiv., p. 186 (3 ed.). ‘Isn’t it natural for a body to feel a sort of a queer +<span class="sc">all-overishness</span> on the eve of a wedding, I should like to know?’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All over Pattern</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (common). Used in describing patterns that are intricate, or designs in which the +pattern is not of a set character. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <span class="sc">F. E. Hulme.</span> <i>Suggestions in Floral Design.</i> A term [<span class="sc">all over pattern</span>] used to denote a design in which the whole of a field is covered with ornament in +contradistinction to such as have units only at intervals, leaving spaces of the ground +between them. The ornament of the Moors as seen in the decorations of the Alhambra, +and that of Eastern nations generally, is most commonly of this nature; the whole +surface of the object is covered with decorative forms so as to present to the eye +a mass of elaborate detail, the leading lines of which can often only be detected +by careful scrutiny. When, as in some Persian surfaces, these lines are often quite +lost, the result is unsatisfactory. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Over the Shop</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (common).—1. A phrase applied to any ubiquitous person, thing or deed.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Shop</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">G. R. Sims</span>, <i>Lifeboat, etc.</i> (<i>Awful Character</i>). He kills little babies <span class="sc">all over the shop</span>, each day in a river one thrown is. +</p> +<p>2. Disconcerted. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <span class="sc">E. E. Money</span>, <i>Little Dutch Maiden</i>, II., xi., 225. ‘Oh, please don’t blush; it makes me feel <span class="sc">all over the shop</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Allow</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Harrow School).—A boy’s weekly allowance. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Allowances</b>, <i>subs.</i> (tailors’).—The extra measure in cutting cloth for a garment to permit of turnings +in for seams; also the trimmings, such as wadding, buttons, braid, etc. Rather technical +than slang. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Round</b>, <i>adj.</i> (popular).—1. Able in all departments; adaptable in every respect to the purpose +in view. Whether applied to sport, business, or indeed any department of life or thought, +within a <span class="pageNum" id="pb38">[<a href="#pb38">38</a>]</span>given circle, it carries with it, <i lang="la">mutatis mutandis</i>, the same meaning. <i>Cf.</i> <span class="sc">All around sports</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <span class="sc">James Payn</span>, <i>Grape from a Thorn</i>, ch. xl. ‘He’s a bad one <span class="sc">all round</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Graphic</i>, August 11, p. 138, col. 2. Foremost still as an ‘<span class="sc">all-round</span>’ cricketer among the gentlemen stands W. G. Grace. +</p> +<p>2. Average; <i>see</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <i>Notes on N. W. Prov. India</i>, p. 98. We find an <span class="sc">all round</span> rent of so much per acre charged on the cultivation. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All-Rounder</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular). [From <span class="sc">all round</span> + er] he who or that which is <span class="sc">all round</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); as an all round man; particularly applied, however, to a shirt collar the same +height all round the neck and meeting in front. Once fashionable, but little worn +now. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">A. Trollope</span>, <i>Three Clerks</i>, ch. xxii. But he had bestowed, perhaps, the greatest amount of personal attention +on his collar.… Some people may think that an <span class="sc">all-rounder</span> is an <span class="sc">all-rounder</span>, and that if one is careful to get an <span class="sc">all-rounder</span> one has done all that is necessary. But so thought not Macassar Jones. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <i>All the Year Round</i>, No. 42, 369. That particularly demonstrative type of the [collar] species known +as the <span class="sc">all rounder</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <span class="sc">Lord Strangford</span>, <i>Selection</i> (1869), II., 163. Dressed in full uniform, with high stand-up collar; the modern +<span class="sc">all rounder</span> not having got so far into Asia. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <i>Chambers’ Journal</i>, No. 586. To present himself in an <span class="sc">all rounder</span> hat and coat of formal cut on Sunday. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Round my Hat</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (popular).—1. <span class="sc">To feel all round one’s hat</span> is to feel queer; out of sorts; all overish. +</p> +<p>2. <span class="sc">That’s all round my hat</span> is synonymous with gammon! Nonsense! <i>See</i> <span class="sc">All my eye</span>. A music hall song [1834] had this phrase as a refrain. +</p> +<p>3. <span class="sc">Spicy as all round my hat</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, sensational. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Punch</i>, vol. LXXXII, p. 177, col. 1. <span class="sc">’Arry on a jewry.</span> +</p> +<p>Fact is, I have bin on a <span class="sc">Jury</span>. New line for yours truly, dear boy, and I ’oped it might be a rare barney, a thing +as a chap could enjoy. I am nuts upon Criminal Cases, Perlice News, you know, and +all that, And, thinks I, this will be ‘tuppence coloured,’ and <span class="sc">spicy as all round my hat</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alls</b>, <i>subs.</i>—1. <i>See</i> <span class="sc">All nations</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Brewer</span>, <i>Phrase and Fable</i>, s.v. <span class="sc">alls</span>, tap-droppings. The refuse of all sorts of spirits drained from the glasses, or spilt +in drawing. The mixture is sold in gin-houses at a cheap rate. +</p> +<p>2. (artisans’).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bens</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All’s Blue.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blue</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Serene!</b> <i>intj.</i> (popular).—All right. All’s well! This phrase is thought to be of Spanish origin, +and to be derived from the word <i>serena</i> a countersign used by sentinels in Cuba. The night watchmen in Spain likewise end +their proclamation of the hour by ‘<i lang="es">é sereno!</i>’ It is also equivalent to O.K., and a few years since was the burden of one of the +senseless street cries, which, every now and again, have a vogue in large cities. +Most of these catches originate in music-hall songs. <span class="sc">All serene</span>, however, was vulgarly colloquial long before the period in question, as will be +seen by the following example: +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">A. Trollope</span>, <i>Three Clerks</i>, ch. xlv. ‘You’re <span class="sc">all serene</span>, then, Mr. Snape,’ said Charley; ‘you’re in the right bon.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb39">[<a href="#pb39">39</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>All Smoke, Gammon and Pickles.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Smoke</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Sorts</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Explained by quotation.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">All nations</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">Sala</span>, <i>Gaslight and Daylight</i>, ch. vi. A counter perforated in elaborately-pricked patterns, like a convivial shroud, +apparently for ornament, but really for the purpose of allowing the drainings, overflowings, +and out-spillings of the gin-glasses to drop through, which, being collected with +sundry washings, and a dash, perhaps, of fresh material, is, by the thrifty landlord, +dispensed to his customers under the title Of <span class="sc">all sorts</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Sorts of</b>, <i>adj.</i> (American).—First rate; excellent. A phrase very common in the South and West, and +used in many different ways. It carries with it the idea of smartness and <i>chic</i>, as, <i>e.g.</i>, when applied to a woman, a horse, or a building. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Allspice</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular<span class="corr" id="xd33e5767" title="Source: .)">).</span>—A nickname for a grocer; the derivation is obvious. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All’s Quiet on the Potomac</b>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—A period of undisturbed rest, quiet enjoyment, or peaceful possession; +a phrase dating from the Civil War, when its frequent repetition in the bulletins +of the War Secretary made it familiar to the public, who quickly appropriated it in +a metaphorical sense. It has since formed the refrain of many a song. +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <i>The Picket Guard.</i> +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">All quiet along the Potomac</span>, they say, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Except now and then a stray picket </p> +<p class="line">Is shot on his beat as he walks to and fro, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">By a rifleman hid in a thicket. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>All T. H.</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (tailors cutters’).—Said in praise or approval; a tailor’s equivalent of <span class="sc">a 1</span>; all right; all there—of which last it is possibly an abbreviated form. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All the Caboose</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Caboose</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All the Go</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (common).—One of the innumerable superlatives of work-a-day English; quite up to +the mark; in full demand; ‘no deception, gents!’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Go</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All There</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (popular).—Up to the mark; first-rate; ready for any emergency; a phrase of general +satisfaction and approval; also, in one’s element. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. iii., p. 220. ‘He stayed in a place doing the grand and sucking the flats till +the folks began to smoke him as not <span class="sc">all there</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Punch</i>, Aug. 7, p. 59. <span class="sc">All there!</span> <i>Clerk</i> (<i>who has called to see the gas-meter</i>). ‘Is yours a <i>wet</i>, or a <i>dry</i> meter, madam?’ <i>Young Wife</i> (<i>who does not like to show ignorance</i>). ‘Well, it <i>is</i> rather <i>damp</i>, I’m afraid!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <b>James Payn</b>, <i>Thicker than Water</i>, ch. xx. It was his excusable boast, though expressed in somewhat vulgar language, +that when anything was wanted he was ‘<span class="sc">all there</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All the Shoot.</b>—Equivalent to ‘<span class="sc">the whole boiling</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All the Way Down</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (popular).—Synonymous with complete <span class="corr" id="xd33e5884" title="Source: adaptibility">adaptability</span> to the end in view; sometimes varied by ‘<span class="sc">up to the knocker</span>,’ or ‘<span class="sc">up to the nines</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All to His Own Cheek.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Cheek</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All to Pieces</b>, <i>adverbial phr.</i> (common).—1. [<i>Cf.</i> <span class="sc">Go to pieces</span>.] <span class="pageNum" id="pb40">[<a href="#pb40">40</a>]</span>A superlative of all work. <span class="sc">To go all to pieces</span> is to collapse utterly; to be altogether ruined; to be in a state of utter collapse. +</p> +<p class="cit">1667. <span class="sc">Pepys</span>, <i>Diary</i>, Aug. 29. I find by all hands that the Court is at this day <span class="sc">all to pieces</span>, every man of a faction of one sort or other. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <span class="sc">Jane Austen</span>, <i>Sense and S.</i>, ch. xxx. ‘Fifty thousand pounds! and by all accounts it won’t come before its wanted; +for they say he is <span class="sc">all to pieces</span>. No wonder! dashing about with his curricle and hunters!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Punch</i>, LXXXII., 185, 2. ‘Ah Jerry, we might as well go back to the Shades as be among such +a shady crowd.’ Young Bob Logic seemed rather nettled at this speech of the Corinthian’s, +and said, ‘Well, don’t you know you can’t expect a fellow to look very bright till +he’s had an S. and B., or two and a Kümmel? These pals will be all right after dinner.’ +‘Let us hope they will,’ said the Corinthian, ‘for they look <span class="sc">all to pieces now</span>.’ +</p> +<p>2. When a woman is confined she is said <span class="sc">to go all to pieces</span>; variants being <span class="sc">to explode</span>; <span class="sc">to bust up</span>. +</p> +<p>3. (rowing).—Collapsed; exhausted; said of a crew when rowing wildly. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Echo</i>, April 7, p. 3, col. 1. The Oxford men were now <span class="sc">all to pieces</span>! their boat was full of water. +</p> +<p>4. (sporting).—In racing and athletic circles equivalent to want of form. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All to Smash</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (common).—Also ‘<span class="sc">all to pieces</span>,’ <i>i.e.</i>, bankrupt; ruined; in a state of utter delapidation; or, complete discomfiture.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Smash</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Cuthbert Bede</span>, <i>Our New Rector</i>, ch. x., p. 105. ‘There isn’t a fellow at school can match <i>me</i>, Miss Moore! I beat them <span class="sc">all to smash</span>!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Up</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (common).—‘It’s <span class="sc">all up</span>’ with so-and-so, or with such and such a thing, or course of action; <i>i.e.</i>, the endeavour is fruitless; utter ruin or collapse is the end of it all; there is +nothing left for hope; sometimes also, death. This phrase, indicative of total failure, +discomfiture, and destruction, does not appear to be of very ancient standing, and +can only be traced back as far as Fielding (<i>see</i> quotation). The mock epitaph, which the late Mr. W. J. Conybeare inserted in his +novel <i>Perversion</i>, fitly illustrates the popular usage of <span class="sc">all up</span>. It is supposed to be written in commemoration of a country squire cut off in the +midst of festivities. +</p> +<div class="lgouter"> +<p class="line">‘Quite well at ten, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Had a few friends to sup with me; </p> +<p class="line">Taken ill at twelve, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And at one it was <span class="sc">all up</span> with me.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first">Also <span class="sc">Up</span>. +</p> +<p>Among <span class="sc">English Synonyms</span> may be mentioned:—To have missed stays (nautical); to have gone to pot; to have gone +to smash; to have gone to the devil. +</p> +<p class="cit">1752. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Amelia</i>, book XII., ch. vi. ‘<span class="sc">All is up</span> and undone!’ cries Murphy. +</p> +<p class="cit">1838. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Nicholas Nickleby</i>, ch. lx. A-double l, all, everything; a cobbler’s weapon; u-p, up, adjective, not +down; s-q-u-double e-r-s, Squeers, noun substantive, a educator of youth. Total, <span class="sc">all up</span> with Squeers. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Allus</b>, <i>adv.</i> (vulgar).—Always. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>All Wag Blue</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (American).—A frolicing, rollicking time; a spree; a kick-up. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Allybeg.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Llybege</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Almighty</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Mighty; great; exceedingly—a superlative <span class="pageNum" id="pb41">[<a href="#pb41">41</a>]</span>of all work. For example, in the ‘dialect’ of which this word is a component part, +an over-officious man is put down as ‘<span class="sc">almighty</span> fast’; or a horse with good points as an ‘<span class="sc">almighty</span> fine beast’; and so on throughout the whole range of superlative merit. It ranks +with ‘awful,’ ‘eternal,’ ‘everlasting,’ ‘lovely,’ and a multitude of other words, +orthodox enough when properly handled, but which become the purest slang when used, +as is frequently the case, of things finite, and even of trifles. So employed, <span class="sc">almighty</span> is generally regarded as an Americanism, and is credited to our kinsmen across the +sea, a view supported by De Quincey’s use of the term. If this be so, there is, in +truth, little at which to wonder. The ‘wild,’ the boundless West is no unlikely nursery +for big, high-sounding words; and though one may justly condemn such depravation of +our mother-tongue, the fact remains. Thus, amongst the untutored backwoodsmen and +rough pioneers of the West a week is an ‘eternal’ time; a good officer is an <span class="sc">almighty</span> general; and a spell of rain is spoken of as an ‘everlasting’ deluge. The foregoing +examples by no means exhaust the potentialities of the language; as, <i>e.g.</i>, when people talk of a man playing <span class="sc">almighty</span> ‘smash’ with his prospects, meaning that he is hopelessly ruining his chances of +success: or driving a fellow-citizen into a state of <span class="sc">almighty</span> ‘shivers’ through ill-treatment; or of a thing lasting till <span class="sc">almighty</span> ‘crack,’ <i>i.e.</i>, for an interminable period. +</p> +<p class="cit">1824. <span class="sc">De Quincey</span>, <i>Works</i> (1871), XVI., 261. Such rubbish, such <span class="sc">almighty</span> nonsense (to speak <i>transatlantice</i>) no eye has ever beheld. +</p> +<p class="cit">1833. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Peter Simple</i> (1863), 328. An <span class="sc">almighty</span> pretty French privateer lying in St. Pierre’s. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>New York Mercury</i>, July 21. ‘This is a rum world,’ said the driver, with a chuckle, as he drove up +the street. ‘And of all places in it New York is the rummest. And hack-drivin’ is +the rummest business, leadin’ one into the rummest secrets. Another passenger to the +“Rookery.” I wonder whether the other boys gits as many customers to that place as +Luke Hyatt? If they do it must be <span class="sc">almighty</span> full sometimes.’ +</p> +<p>In another place De Quincey speaks of a man who cannot live and cannot die as being +‘in an <span class="sc">almighty</span> fix,’ and the expression is otherwise frequently used by him. Captain Marryat likewise +constantly employs it; in fact, the phrase was well ‘acclimatised’ on this side of +the Atlantic long prior to the publication of <i>My Novel</i> [1853], and Prof. Barrère, in attributing its popularisation ‘in a certain measure’ +to Lord Lytton, failed to render due credit, if any, either to De Quincey or Marryat. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Almighty Dollar</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—The power of money; Mammon regarded as an embodiment of the worship of, +and the quest for gold. This phrase is, in reality, an old friend with a new face, +for Ben Jonson used the term in its modern sense when speaking of the power of money. +Its modern application to dollars is traceable to Washington Irving, who made use +of it in a charming little sketch, entitled <i>A Creole Village</i>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb42">[<a href="#pb42">42</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1574–1637. <span class="sc">Ben Jonson</span>, <i>Epistle to Elizabeth, Countess of Rutland</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Whilst that for which all virtue now is sold, </p> +<p class="line">And almost every vice, <span class="sc">almightie</span> gold. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1839. <span class="sc">Washington Irving</span>, <i>Wolfert’s Roost: A Creole Village</i>, p. 40. The <span class="sc">almighty dollar</span>, that great object of universal devotion throughout our land, seems to have no genuine +devotee in these peculiar villages. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Besant and Rice</span>, <i>Golden Butterfly</i>, ch. xxii. ‘Genius, gentlemen, is apt to be careless of the main chance. It don’t +care for the <span class="sc">almighty dollar</span>; it lets fellows like me heap up the stamps.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <span class="sc">G. Sutherland</span>, <i>Australia</i>, p. 102. The travelling Yankee, with an overwearing confidence in the <span class="sc">almighty dollar</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aloft.</b> <span class="sc">To go aloft</span>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (common).—To die; the figure of speech presented here is nautical in origin. +</p> +<p class="cit">1790. <span class="sc">C. Dibdin</span>, <i>Sea Songs: Tom Bowling</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Here a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">The darling of our crew; </p> +<p class="line">No more he’ll hear the tempest howling, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">For death has broached him to. </p> +<p class="line">His form was of the manliest beauty, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">His heart was kind and soft; </p> +<p class="line">Faithful below, Tom did his duty, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And now he’s <span class="sc">gone aloft</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">Few expressions synonymous with the act of dying equal this in force or pathos; and +it is rarely, moreover, that slang climbs on the wings of hope into a purer atmosphere +than that of the vices and follies of men with which it is mainly concerned. By no +means few in number, nor wanting in sententiousness and dramatic meaning are the phrases +employed in the vulgar tongue to signify the greatest of all human experiences. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> To kick the bucket; to hop the twig; to go to Davy Jones’ locker (nautical); to be +put to bed with a shovel; to take an earth bath; to croak; to take a ground sweat; +to go under (American: the visible disposal of the body furnishing a simile for the +process of death); to go up (compare with foregoing: when the victim of lynch law +is enquired after the questioner is told that he has ‘gone up,’ <i>i.e.</i>, been hanged); to lose the number of one’s mess (a sailor’s phrase); to snuff it +(from snuffing a candle); to lay down one’s knife and fork; to stick one’s spoon in +the wall; to give in; to give up; to peg out; to slip one’s cable (this, like ‘to +go to Davy Jones’ locker,’ is of nautical origin); to pass in one’s checks (a euphemism +drawn from the game of poker, the simile being that of settling one’s earthly accounts +and the paying in to the banker of the dues at the end of the game); Kickeraboo (West +Indian: a corruption of ‘to kick the bucket’). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French.</span> <i lang="fr">Passer l’arme à gauche</i> (popular: ‘to lay down one’s arms’); <i lang="fr">casser sa pipe</i> (lit. ‘to break one’s pipe’); <i lang="fr">dévisser</i> or <i lang="fr">décoller son billard</i> (lit. ‘to break one’s cue’); <i lang="fr">graisser ses bottes</i> (lit. ‘to grease one’s boots’); <i lang="fr">avaler sa langue</i> (lit. ‘to swallow one’s tongue’); <i lang="fr">avaler sa gaffe</i> (‘to lower one’s boat-hook’); <i lang="fr">avaler sa cuiller</i> (lit. ‘to lay down one’s spoon’); <i lang="fr">avaler ses baguettes</i> (military: lit. ‘to lay aside one’s drum-sticks’); <i lang="fr">n’avoir plus mal aux dents</i> (lit. ‘to have toothache no more.’ In Fr. Argot <i lang="fr">mal de dents</i> is also synonymous with love); <i lang="fr">poser sa chique</i> (popular: lit. ‘to lay down one’s finish, elegance, dash, spirit’—in short all that +is distinctive in a man); <i lang="fr">claquer</i> (familiar: lit. ‘to chatter <span class="pageNum" id="pb43">[<a href="#pb43">43</a>]</span>with cold’ or ‘fear’); <i lang="fr">saluer le public</i> (theat.: lit. ‘to make one’s bow’—to make one’s last appearance on this world’s stage, +and one’s first in that land where ‘the dead are many, and the living few’); <i lang="fr">recevoir son décompte</i> (military: lit. ‘to receive deferred pay’; <i lang="fr">décompte</i> is also military slang for a ‘mortal wound’); <i lang="fr">cracher ses embouchures</i> (an expression of musical origin: the figure is obviously that of losing the power +to perform on wind instruments<span id="xd33e6299"></span>); <i lang="fr">déteindre</i> (popular: lit. ‘to wash off the colour’ or ‘dye.’ Is this a play upon words, or an +allusion to death as the great revealer of man as he is?); <i lang="fr">donner son dernier bon à tirer</i> (familiar: equivalent to the American, ‘to pass in one’s checks.’ French printers +understand by this phrase ‘to send the last proofs to press’); <i lang="fr">lâcher la perche</i> (popular: lit. ‘to slip off one’s perch’); <i lang="fr">éteindre son gaz</i> (popular: ‘to turn off the gas.’ Cf., ‘to snuff it’); <i lang="fr">épointer son foret</i> (popular: lit. ‘to break off the point of the drill,’ as in boring); <i lang="fr">être exproprié</i> (popular: lit. ‘to be dispossessed’; <i lang="fr">exproprier</i> is a <span class="corr" id="xd33e6323" title="Source: judical">judicial</span> term signifying ‘to take possession of the landed property of a debtor’); <i lang="fr">péter son lof</i> (sailors’); <i lang="fr">fumer ses terres</i>; <i lang="fr">fermer son parapluie</i> (popular: ‘to close one’s umbrella’); <i lang="fr">perdre son bâton</i> (popular: ‘to lose one’s walking stick’); <i lang="fr">descendre la garde</i> (popular: ‘to come off guard’); <i lang="fr">défiler la parade</i> (military: ‘to file off parade’; equivalent to the English ‘to lose the number of +one’s mess’); <i lang="fr">tourner de l’œil</i> (popular: is there not here an allusion to the phenomenon attendant on genuine sleep; +feigned sleep can always be detected by turning up the eyelids of the sleeper, if +sleep be genuine only the ‘whites’ of the eyes will be discoverable); <i lang="fr">perdre le goût du pain</i> (popular: ‘to lose one’s taste for bread’); <i lang="fr">lâcher la rampe</i> (theatrical: ‘to lose sight of the footlights’); <i lang="fr">faire ses petits paquets</i> (popular: ‘to pack up one’s [small] traps’); <i lang="fr">casser son crachoir</i> (popular: lit. ‘to break one’s spittoon’ or mouth); <i lang="fr">remercier son boulanger</i> (thieves’: lit. ‘to thank the baker.’ It must be explained that <i lang="fr">boulanger</i> baker is a French nickname for the devil); <i lang="fr">canner</i>; <i lang="fr">dévider à l’estorgue</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">baiser la camarde</i> (popular: ‘to salute,’ or ‘kiss Death’; <i lang="fr">camarde</i> is a popular euphemism for the ‘Messenger of Life’); camarder (popular: <i>see</i> previous example); <i lang="fr">fuir</i> (thieves’: lit. ‘to fly’ or ‘escape’—from justice or capture); <i lang="fr">casser son câble</i> (popular: ‘to slip the cable’—evidently a simile drawn from the sea); <i lang="fr">casser son fouet</i> (popular: ‘to break’ or ‘lay aside one’s whip’); <i lang="fr">faire sa crevaison</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">crever</i>, ‘to kill’ or ‘die’ is usually only employed in speaking of animals); <i lang="fr">déralinguer</i> (sailors’: properly ‘to detach from the bolt rope’); <i lang="fr">virer de bord</i> (sailors’: lit. ‘to tack about’); <i lang="fr">déchirer son faux-col</i> (popular: <i>verbatim</i>, ‘to burst open one’s collar’—the allusion is obvious); <i lang="fr">se dégeler</i> (in good French, ‘to thaw’); <i lang="fr">couper sa mèche</i> (coachman’s: ‘to throw down the whip’); <i lang="fr">piquer sa plaque</i> (sailors’); <i lang="fr">mettre la table pour les asticots</i> (popular: properly ‘to lay the table [become food] for worms’); <span class="pageNum" id="pb44">[<a href="#pb44">44</a>]</span><i lang="fr">aller manger les pissenlits par la racine</i> (popular: <span id="xd33e6427">‘</span>to go and feed off dandelion roots’—observe, by the way, that <i>pissenlit</i> is an exact equivalent for one of the English field names of the dandelion, viz., +‘piddle-the-bed’); <i lang="fr">laisser fuir son tonneau</i> (familiar: lit. ‘to let fly’ or ‘kick away the cask.’ <i>Cf.</i>, ‘to kick the bucket’); <i lang="fr">calancher</i> (vagrants’); <i lang="fr">laisser ses bottes quelque part</i> (familiar: lit. ‘to leave one’s boots somewhere’); <i lang="fr">déchirer son habit</i> (popular: properly ‘to rend’ or ‘cast aside one’s coat’); <i lang="fr">déchirer son tablier</i> (popular: in literary French this means, ‘to throw aside or destroy one’s apron’); +<i lang="fr">souffler sa veilleuse</i> (popular: meaning lit. ‘to blow out one’s nightlamp’ or ‘floating wick.’ Compare +with ‘to snuff it’ or ‘to put out one’s light’ in English slang); <i lang="fr">pousser le boum de cygne</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">avoir son coke</i> (familiar); <i lang="fr">prendre sa secousse</i> (popular: <i>i.e.</i>, ‘to take one’s blow’ or ‘shock’); <i lang="fr">rendre sa buche</i> (tailors’: the allusion is an obvious one); <i lang="fr">rendre sa canne au ministre</i> (military: lit. ‘to resign one’s commission to the Minister [of War]<span class="corr" id="xd33e6470" title="Not in source">’)</span>; <i lang="fr">rendre sa clef</i> (gypsy: lit. ‘to give up the key’); <i lang="fr">rendre son livret</i> (popular: lit. ‘to throw up one’s cards’). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">German Synonyms.</span> See <span class="sc">Hop the twig</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Italian Fourbesque.</span> <i lang="it">Sbasire</i> (lit. ‘to faint away’); <i lang="it">sbasire su le funi</i> (lit. ‘to faint away on the rope’). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alone</b>, <i>adv.</i> (old).—In the flash vocabulary of the time of Pierce Egan’s <i>Tom and Jerry</i> [<i>circa</i> 1800–1825], only an experienced man of the world could be allowed to go <span class="sc">alone</span>. Such a one was said to be <span class="sc">fly</span>; <span class="sc">up to snuff</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Along Of</b>, <i>adv.</i> (vulgar).—A dialectical form for on account of; owing to; pertaining, or belonging +to. Formerly <span class="sc">along on</span>, and it so appeared as early as <span class="asc">A.D.</span> 880: <span class="sc">along of</span> was used by Chaucer, but it is now mainly confined to the illiterate or vulgar. +</p> +<p class="cit">1369. <span class="sc">Chaucer</span>, <i>Troylus</i> ii., 1001. On me is not <span class="sc">along</span> thin evil fare. +</p> +<p class="cit">1581. <span class="sc">W. Stafford</span>, <i>Exam. of Complaints</i>, p. 16 (New Shaks. Soc.: Ed.). Complaining of general poverty, he says: ‘Whereof +it is <span class="sc">longe</span>, I cannot well tell.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1601. <span class="sc">Holland</span>, <i>Pliny</i>, p. 25, quoted in Morris’ <i>Elem. Hist. Eng. Gram.</i>, p. 198. And that is <span class="sc">long of</span> contrarie causes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1858. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Xmas. Stories</i> (<i>going into Society</i>), p. 65 (II. ed.). Would he object to say why he left it? Not at all; why should +he? He left it <span class="sc">along</span> of a dwarf. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <span class="sc">W<span>.</span> Black</span>, <i>Beautiful Wretch</i>, ch. xviii. ‘Mayhap the concert didn’t come off, <span class="sc">along of</span> the snow.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alsatia</b>, or <b>Alsatia the Higher</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old slang).—1. Whitefriars, once a place privileged from arrests for debt, as was +also <span class="sc">Alsatia the lower</span>, or the Mint in Southwark. Both were suppressed, in 1697, on account of the notorious +abuses committed there. A charter of liberties and privileges had been granted, in +1608, by King James I. to the inhabitants of this district, and it speedily became +the haunt of insolvent debtors, cheats, and gamesters, who conferred upon it the jocular +cant name of <span class="sc">Alsatia</span>, a Latinised form of Alsace, a province which had long enjoyed <span class="pageNum" id="pb45">[<a href="#pb45">45</a>]</span>the reputation of a ‘debateable land.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1688. <span class="sc">Shadwell</span>, <i>Sq. of Alsatia I.</i>, in wks. (1720), IV., 25. Who are these? Some inhabitants of White-fryers; some bullies +of <span class="sc">Alsatia</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. xvi. Whitefriars, adjacent to the Temple, then well known by the cant name of +<span class="sc">Alsatia</span>. +</p> +<p>2. Hence any rendezvous or asylum for loose characters and criminals, where immunity +from arrest is tolerably certain; a haunt of thieves, and the criminal classes; a +low quarter. +</p> +<p class="cit">1787. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Prov. Glossary, etc.</i> (1811), p. 82. A ’squire of <span class="sc">Alsatia</span>. A spendthrift or sharper, inhabiting places formerly privileged from arrests. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Trail of the Serpent</i>, bk. II., ch. i. So Blind Peter was the <span class="sc">Alsatia</span> of Slopperton, a refuge for crime and destitution. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Lord Justice James</span>, in <i lang="la">ex parte</i> Saffery <i>re</i> Cooke, <i>Law Times</i>, 35, p. 718. The Stock Exchange is not an <span class="sc">Alsatia</span>; the Queen’s laws are paramount there, and the Queen’s writ runs even into the sacred +precincts of Capel-Court. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alsatian</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A rogue, or debauchee, such as haunted Alsatia or Whitefriars. +</p> +<p class="cit">1691. <span class="sc">Luttrell</span>, <i>Brief Rel.</i> (1857), II., 259. The benchers of the Inner Temple having given orders for bricking +up their little gate leading into White-fryers … the <span class="sc">Alsatians</span> came and pulled it down. +</p> +<p class="cit">c. 1700. <i>Gentleman Instructed</i>, p. 491 [10 ed., 1732]. He spurr’d to London, and left a thousand curses behind him. +Here he struck up with sharpers, scourers, and <span class="sc">Alsatians</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. xvii. ‘You shall sink a nobleman in the Temple Gardens, and rise an <span class="sc">Alsatian</span> at Whitefriars.’ +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i>—Pertaining to Alsatia; roguish; debauched. +</p> +<p class="cit">1688. <span class="sc">Shadwell</span>, <i>Sq. of Alsatia I.</i> in wks. (1720), IV., 27. He came out of White Fryers: he’s some <span class="sc">Alsatian</span> bully. +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. xvii. An extravagantly long rapier and poinard marked the true <span class="sc">Alsatian</span> bully. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">Besant</span>, <i>All Sorts and Conditions of Men</i>, ch. vii. The road has come to be regarded with admiration as one of those <span class="sc">Alsatian</span> retreats, growing every day rarer, which are beyond and above the law. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alsatia Phrase</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A slang or cant term, such as was used by Alsatians; or, now-a-days, by thieves +and vagrants. +</p> +<p class="cit">1704. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Tale of a Tub</i>. Apology for author. The second instance to shew the author’s wit is not his own, +is Peter’s banter (as he calls it in his <span class="sc">Alsatia phrase</span>) upon transubstantiation. +</p> +<p>Synonymous terms were <span class="sc">Pedler’s French</span>, <span class="sc">St. Giles’ Greek</span>, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Altamel</b>, <b>Altemal</b>, <i>subs.</i>, <i>adj.</i>, <i>adv.</i>, and <i>intj.</i> (American thieves’).— +</p> +<p><i>Adv.</i>—All together, as ‘Let’s anchor <span class="sc">altemal</span>,’ <i>i.e.</i>, ‘Let us come to a stop altogether.’ +</p> +<p><i>Subs.</i>—The sum total of a bill or story. +</p> +<p><i>Intj.</i>—An injunction to ‘cut it short.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Altemal</span> is said to be derived from the Dutch <i lang="nl">altemal</i>, but Murray has it as ‘altumal’ with a different derivation. [From L. <i lang="la">altum</i>, the deep, <i>i.e.</i>, the sea + <span class="sc">al</span>.] Grose leans to the former and quotes <span class="sc">Dutch reckoning</span> as synonymous; from a verbal account without particulars, such as was given in brothels +and sponging houses—accounts which allowed of no sort of verification. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Flemish account</span> and remarks under <span class="sc">Dutch</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1711. <i>Medleys</i>, 29 Jan. (1712), 186. His <span class="sc">altumal</span> cant, a mark of his poor Traffick and Tar-Education. +</p> +<p class="cit">1758. <span class="sc">Chambers</span>, <i>Cycl. Supp.</i> <span class="sc">Altumal</span>, a term used to denote the mercantile style, or dialect. In this sense, we <span class="pageNum" id="pb46">[<a href="#pb46">46</a>]</span>meet with <span class="sc">altumal</span> cant, to denote the language of petty traders and tars. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Altering the Jeff’s Click.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Jeff’s click</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Altham</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—A wife; mistress.—<i>See</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1560. <span class="sc">John Awdeley</span>, <i>Fraternitye of Vacabondes</i> (1869. English Dialect Society’s Reprint), p. 4. A curtall is much like to the Vpright +man, but hys authority is not fully so great. He vseth commonly to go with a short +cloke, like to grey Friers, and his woman with him in like liuery, which he calleth +his <span class="sc">altham</span> if she be hys. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Altitudes.</b> <span class="sc">In his altitudes</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—In an elevated mood, chiefly from liquor; putting on airs and graces; using +lofty phrases; in a state of excitement; and, in a special slang sense, drunk. The +phrase has been incorrectly given as ‘<i>out</i> of his <span class="sc">altitudes</span>.’ The first trace of it is to be found in Beaumont and Fletcher’s <i>Laws of Candy</i>, II. [1616]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1630. <span class="sc">Jonson</span>, <i>New Inn</i>, I. I have talked somewhat above my share, at large, and been <span class="sc">in the altitudes</span>, the extravagants. +</p> +<p class="cit">1668. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>An Evening’s Love</i>, Act iii. If we men could but learn to value ourselves, we should soon take down +our mistresses from all their <span class="sc">altitudes</span>, and make them dance after our pipes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1705. <span class="sc">Vanbrugh</span>, <i>Confederacy</i>, Act v. <i>Clar.</i> ‘Who makes thee cry out thus, poor Brass?’ <i>Brass.</i> ‘Why, your husband, madam; he’s <span class="sc">in his altitudes</span> here.<span>’</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Francis Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. The man is <span class="sc">in his altitudes</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, he is drunk. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Altocad</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Win. Coll.).—A somewhat venerable paid member of the choir who takes <span class="sc">alto</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alybbeg.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Lybbege</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Alycompaine.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Allacompain</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ambassador</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—A sailor’s practical joke upon ‘green’ hands, similar to the festivities +formerly universally observed when ‘crossing the line.’ These tricks have been common +to sailors of every nation. <span class="sc">Ambassador</span> was thus managed:—A large tub was filled with water, two stools being placed on either +side of it; over the whole was thrown a tarpaulin or old sail, kept tight by two persons, +who represented the king and queen of a foreign country, and who were seated on the +stools. To the victim was allotted the part of <span class="sc">ambassador</span>, who, after repeating a ridiculous speech dictated to him, was led in great state +up to the throne, and seated between the king and queen. They rising suddenly, as +soon as the unsuspecting victim was seated, caused him to fall backward into the tub +of water. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ambassador of Commerce</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—A commercial traveller; a <span class="sc">bagman</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ambia</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A euphemism for the juice of tobacco, as expectorated after chewing. +Most frequently heard in the Southern and Western States. Apparently a corruption +of ‘amber’ (indeed it is commonly spelt and pronounced <i>ambeer</i>)—presumably from a similarity in colour between expectorated tobacco saliva and the +mineralised resinous product. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ambidexter</b>, also in 17th century, <b>Ambodexter</b>, <i>subs.</i> and <i>adj.</i> (old <span class="pageNum" id="pb47">[<a href="#pb47">47</a>]</span>slang).—[From <i lang="la">ambo</i>, both + <i lang="la">dexter</i>, the right hand, <i>i.e.</i>, the faculty of using both hands as right hands, or equally well.] Applied first +in a slang sense to a lawyer taking fees or bribes from both plaintiff and defendant, +<span class="sc">ambidexter</span> gradually became identified with double-dealing of all kinds. +</p> +<p class="cit">1532. <i>Use of Dice Play</i> (1850), 17. Any affinity with our men of law? Never with those that be honest. Marry! +with such as be <span class="sc">ambidexters</span>, and used to play in both the hands. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1555. <span class="sc">Ridley</span>, <i>Works</i>, 27. They may be called neutrals, <span class="sc">ambidexters</span>, or rather such as can shift on both sides. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1691. <span class="sc">Blount</span>, <i>Law Dictionary</i>. <span class="sc">Ambidexter</span>.… That Juror or Embraceor who takes Money on both sides, for giving his Verdict. +</p> +<p class="cit">1703. <span class="sc">De Foe</span>, <i>Ref. Manners</i>, 93. Those <span class="sc">ambodexters</span> in Religion, who Can any thing dispute, yet any thing can do. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">Sir F. Palgrave</span>, <i>Norman and Eng. III.</i>, 278. An <span class="sc">ambidexter</span>, owing fealty to both Counts, and not faithful to either. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ambush</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—Fraudulent weights and measures. A punning allusion to the accepted +meaning of the word—to lie in wait (lying weight). In juxtaposition to this may be +placed the Fourbesque (Italian thieves’ argot); <i lang="it">giusta</i>, a pair of scales, a balance, which in Italian literally means ‘correct.’ <i>Cf.</i>, French thieves’ argot, <i lang="fr">juste</i> (an abbreviation of <i>justice</i>), for the assizes; also the Spanish Germania <i lang="es">justia</i>, in a similar sense, the last-named being a shortened form of the Spanish <i lang="es">justicia</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Amen Curler</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old slang).—The name formerly given to a parish clerk. In the army the chaplain’s +clerk is called an <span class="sc">amen wallah</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Amener</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A nickname given to one who agrees to everything said or done. [From that +sense of <span class="sc">amen</span> = to ratify solemnly + <span class="sc">er</span>.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Amen-Snorter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Australian).—A parson; from which it will be observed that the fifth continent is +evolving words and phrases as peculiar to itself as America has already done. For +synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Devil dodger</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Bulletin</i>, Nov. 24. In Maori-land it is impossible to swing any kind of cat without smiting +some variety of <span class="sc">amen-snorter</span>. Still the saints are not happy. They have just held at Wellington a ‘United Ker-ristian +Conference’ to ruminate on the sinfulness of things and the scarcity of the unsanctified +threepenny. A Rev. vessel, one Potter, opined that the meagre quantity and inferior +quality of family devotion accounted for the depleted condition of the ‘treasury of +the Loard,’ and suggested that steps should be taken ‘to find out what families omit +this important duty.’ Since which all the dead-beats and suspected hen-snatchers plead +when before the Binch that they were ‘only mouching round to find out whether the +family neglected its religious dooties, yer washup.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Amen Wallah</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—A chaplain’s clerk; the allusion is sufficiently obvious. ‘Wallah’ is +Hindustani for ‘man’ or person. <i>Cf.</i>, the old English slang, <span class="sc">amen curler</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Amerace</b>, <i>adv.</i> (American thieves’).—Jargon signifying near at hand; within call. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>American Shoulders</b>, <i>subs.</i> (tailors’).—A particular ‘cut,’ in which the shoulders of a coat are so shaped as +to give the wearer a broad and burly appearance. This is usually done <span class="pageNum" id="pb48">[<a href="#pb48">48</a>]</span>where a man’s shoulders are of the <span class="sc">champagne</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) order, <i>i.e.</i>, like the neck of a wine bottle, with nothing upon which the garment in question +can be hung. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>American Tweezers</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—An ingenious instrument of American invention, by means of which it is +possible to turn a key in a door and unlock it from the outside. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ames Ace</b>, <b>Ambs-Ace</b>, or <b>Ambes-Ace</b>. <span class="sc">Within ames ace</span>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—1. Nearly; very near; <span class="sc">ambs-ace</span> was the double ace, the lowest throw at dice. Hence also +</p> +<p>2. Bad luck; misfortune. The expression, according to Murray, dates back to <span class="asc">A.D.</span> 1297. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aminidab</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A jeering name for a Quaker.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ammunition</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Paper for use at the <i lang="fr">cabinet d’aisance</i>. Also called <span class="sc">curl papers</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ammunition Leg</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—A wooden leg. From the attributive use of ‘ammunition’ as applied to +stores supplied to soldiers for equipment or rations. To show the length to which +this application of the word has been carried, it may be noted that Robertson, in +1693, speaks of ‘an ammunition whore.’—<i lang="la">scortum castrense.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Amort</b>, <i>adv.</i> and <i>pred. adj.</i> (old).—Usually <span class="sc">all amort</span>, an antithetical phrase to <span class="sc">all alive</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), and meaning half dead; in a state of stupor; without spirit; sometimes used as +a synonym of <span class="sc">balmy</span>, <span class="sc">cracked</span>, <span class="sc">dotty</span>, all of which see. <i lang="fr">A-la-mort</i>, from the French, is regarded as the original form, though it is doubtful which took +precedence in literary English. At one time both forms were quite naturalised; they +are now of interest as affording an instance of words, gradually lapsing into slang +or vulgar usage, and then coming to be regarded as Anglo-French phrases. American +thieves still retain them, to signify struck dumb, or confounded; in these senses +they are given by Grose in his <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i> [1787], which would seem to show they had already commenced their downward career. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ampersand</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—The breech; or posteriors. [From Eng. <span class="sc">and</span> + Latin <i>per se</i>, by itself, + Eng. <span class="sc">and</span>; literally, ‘and by itself and’ used to distinguish the character ‘&,’ which in old +nursery books came at the end of the alphabet. Hence, employed to signify the hinder +parts.] The word in its slang sense is quite a recent introduction, said to be of +American origin. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Blind cheeks</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Amputate.</b> <span class="sc">To amputate one’s mahogany</span> or <span class="sc">timber</span> (familiar).—To be off; to begone—the idea being that of quick or violent motion, +often, though not always, the result of moral or physical force. [Probably from that +sense of <span class="sc">amputate</span> equivalent to ‘cut off’ or ‘away.’ <i>Cf.</i>, ‘cut,’ a slang synonym.] A welcher is called a <span class="sc">timber-merchant</span>, because he removes <span class="pageNum" id="pb49">[<a href="#pb49">49</a>]</span>himself, or ‘cuts his stick’ with celerity as occasion requires. Both the English +and French have many synonymous words and phrases to express the same idea. Among +the more popular may be mentioned:— +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> To skedaddle (an American term); to cut one’s lucky; to sling, or take one’s hook; +to mizzle; to absquatulate; to pad the hoof; to give leg bail; to bolt; to cut and +run; to chivey; to walk the trotters; to slip one’s cable; to step it; to leg it; +to tip the double; to make, or take tracks; to hook it; to make beef (thieves’ term); +to slope; to cut the cable and run before the wind (obviously a sailor’s phrase); +to slip it; to abskize; to paddle; to guy (used by thieves); to evaporate; to vamoose +(American, from the Spanish imperative <i lang="es">vamos</i>, let us go); to speele (used by thieves); to skip; to tip one’s rags a gallop; to +walk one’s chalks; to pike; to hop the twig; to turn it up; to cap one’s lucky (a +phrase mainly confined to American thieves); to crush; to cut dirt; to bunk; to pike +it; to stir one’s stumps. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French.</span> <i lang="fr">Faire</i> or <i lang="fr">jouer la fille de l’air</i> (lit. ‘to go like the wind,’ <i lang="fr">fille de l’air</i>, daughter of air, being a poetical embodiment); <i lang="fr">faire le lézard</i> (a thief’s term, and meaning properly ‘to imitate a lizard,’ an allusion to swiftness +of motion); <i lang="fr">faire le jat-jat</i>; <i lang="fr">faire la paire</i> (lit. ‘to go double,’ <i>Cf.</i>, ‘to tip the double’); <i lang="fr">faire gille</i> (a very old French phrase; it means also to become bankrupt. The connection between +bankruptcy and decamping is obvious); <i lang="fr">se déguiser en cerf</i> (popular: lit. ‘to play the stag’); <i lang="fr">s’évanouir</i> (popular: lit. ‘to vanish’ or ‘fade away’); <i lang="fr">se cramper</i> or <i lang="fr">tirer sa crampe</i> (<i lang="fr">cramper</i> is a popular term for rapid flight, and contains an allusion to the cramp or nervous +contraction sometimes caused by violent motion. Old French had the verb <i lang="fr">crampir</i> in the sense of ‘to bend’ or ‘double up.’ <i lang="fr">Tirer sa crampe</i> is lit. ‘to get cramped’); <i lang="fr">se lâcher du ballon</i> (popular: ‘to let loose the balloon,’ an allusion to the rapidity with which a balloon +shoots up into the air when set free); <i lang="fr">se la couler</i> (exactly equivalent to the English slang ‘to slip it’); <i lang="fr">se donner de l’air</i> (popular: <i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="fr">faire la fille de l’air</i>); <i lang="fr">se pousser du zeph</i> (popular: properly ‘to push forward with the wind.’ <i lang="fr">Zeph</i> is a contraction of <i lang="fr">zephir</i>); <i lang="fr">se sylphider</i> (popular: from <i lang="fr">sylphide</i>, a sylph; a reference to what in English racing terminology would be termed the ‘light-weight’ +character of such creatures enabling them to get over the ground quickly); <i lang="fr">se faire la débinette</i>; <i lang="fr">jouer des fourchettes</i> (popular: ‘to put one’s forks into play’); <i lang="fr">fourchettes</i> (in French argot = legs or ‘pins’); <i lang="fr">se la donner</i> (Michel says <i lang="fr">la</i> here refers to ‘<i lang="fr">la clef des champs</i>,’ an expression synonymous with ‘liberty’ or ‘freedom’); <i lang="fr">se la briser</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">ramasser un bidon</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">se la casser</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">se la tirer</i>; <i lang="fr">tirer ses granches</i>; <i lang="fr">valser</i> (lit. to dance); <i lang="fr">se tirer les pincettes</i> (popular: lit. ‘to pull along’ or to extricate ‘one’s tongs’ or ‘nippers.’ <i>Cf.</i>, English ‘nip along’); <i lang="fr">se tirer les baladoires</i>; <i lang="fr">se tirer les pattes</i> (lit. ‘to move one’s paws’); <i lang="fr">se tirer les trimoires</i> (thieves’: <i lang="fr">trimoires</i> is a cant term for legs, <span class="pageNum" id="pb50">[<a href="#pb50">50</a>]</span>and <i lang="fr">trimer</i> signifies painful progression, or doing most of a journey on foot); <i lang="fr">se tirer les flûtes</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">les flûtes</i> = ‘shanks’ or ‘pegs’); <i lang="fr">jouer des guibes</i> (<i lang="fr">guibe</i> is a popular term for the leg, chiefly employed in burlesque); <i lang="fr">jouer des quilles</i> (this expression is very old. <i lang="fr">Quilles</i> properly signifies ‘crutches,’ and is popularly employed for the legs); <i lang="fr">se carapater</i> (lit. ‘to run on one’s paws.<span>’</span> <i>Cf.</i>, ‘to take to one’s heels’); <i lang="fr">se barrer</i> (lit. ‘to dash over’); <i lang="fr">baudrouiller</i> (thieves’: this has the signification of ‘to whip up’); <i lang="fr">se cavaler</i> (thieves’: <i lang="fr">cavaler</i> was once synonymous with <i lang="fr">chevaucher</i>; therefore, <i lang="fr">se cavaler</i> signifies in reality, ‘to go on horseback on oneself,’ in which connection it may +be compared with ‘shanks’ mare,’ the ‘marrow-bone stage’ [the Marylebone stage], or +the German <i lang="de">Schuhster’s Rappen</i>, the shoemaker’s black horses, <i>i.e.</i>, the shoes. <i lang="fr">Se cavaler</i> likewise has reference to running away with the tail between the legs when fright +has seized hold of an animal, and as employed by thieves conveys the idea of cowardice +as well as that of locomotion); <i lang="fr">faire une cavale</i> or <i lang="fr">se payer une cavale</i> (popular: <i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="fr">se cavaler</i>); <i lang="fr">jouer des</i> or <i lang="fr">se tirer les paturons</i> (popular and thieves’: this may be translated ‘to pad the hoof.’ <i lang="fr">Paturons</i> is properly the ‘pasterns.’ The frequent use of <i lang="fr">se tirer</i> in connection with the idea of moving from place to place with a celerity which is +oftentimes accentuated by a fear of arrest or unwelcome obstruction is extremely fitting. +<i lang="fr">Se tirer</i> means literally to extricate <span class="corr" id="xd33e7525" title="Source: onself">oneself</span>; to get through; to pull oneself forward—extra endeavour resulting in rapid progression); +<i lang="fr">happer le taillis</i> (thieves’: lit. ‘to catch, lay hold of’ or ‘gain the copse’; <i>i.e.</i>, a place of concealment); <i lang="fr">flasquer du poivre à quelqu’un</i> or <i lang="fr">la rousse</i> (thieves’: <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Amuse</span>; ‘to fly from the police’; lit. <span id="xd33e7545">‘</span>to shake the pepper box in the eyes of the police<span>’</span>; <i lang="fr">rousse</i> is a cant term for a guardian of the peace); <i lang="fr">décaniller</i> (thieves’: this word, derived from <i lang="fr">canille</i>, a French provincialism for <i lang="fr">chenille</i>, a caterpillar, is an allusion to the metamorphosis of the grub into a butterfly +when it takes unto itself wings); <i lang="fr">décarrer</i> (thieves’: to leave prison; <i lang="fr">décarrer de belle</i>, to be released from prison without having been tried); <i lang="fr">exhiber son prussien</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">prussien</i> is a common colloquialism for the posteriors, and the phrase literally means ‘to +show one’s behind,’ or ‘turn tail.’ It may be worth while remarking that the term +<i lang="fr">prussien</i> as applied to the breech is no vulgar expression of contempt towards the Prussians. +The word is derived, says Michel, from the gypsy <i>prusiatiñi</i>, which Borrow translates by pistol. Formerly the French called ‘the behind’ by the +name of a Parisian church, <i>Saint-Jean le Rond</i>); <i lang="fr">démurger</i> (thieves’: to leave a place; to be set at liberty); <i lang="fr">désarrer</i> (thieves’: ‘to guy’; to make beef); <i lang="fr">gagner les gigoteaux</i> (also <i lang="fr">gagner au trot</i>, <i lang="fr">au pied</i>, <i lang="fr">gagner le camp</i>, <i lang="fr">la colline</i>, <i lang="fr">le taillis</i>, <i lang="fr">la guérite</i>, etc.); <i lang="fr">se faire une paire de mains courantes à la mode</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">fendre l’ergot</i> (lit. ‘to split the spur,’ an allusion to the toes being pressed to the ground, and +thus naturally <span class="pageNum" id="pb51">[<a href="#pb51">51</a>]</span>parted); <i lang="fr">filer son nœud</i>, or <i lang="fr">son cable</i> (sailors’ and popular: lit. ‘to cut the ropes’ or ‘cable’); <i lang="fr">se défiler</i> (popular, but derived from the military term, signifying to go off parade: might +be translated ‘to leg it’); <i lang="fr">s’écar-bouiller</i> (popular: properly ‘to crush’; compare with the English synonym ‘crush’); <i lang="fr">esballonner</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">filer son cable par le bout</i> (sailors’); <i lang="fr">faire chibis</i> (thieves’: ‘to escape from prison’); <i lang="fr">déraper</i> (common); <i lang="fr">fouiner</i> (popular: this is, in reality, no more slang than the English ‘to sneak away’); <i lang="fr">se la fracturer</i> (popular: properly a surgical term, meaning ‘to fracture’); <i lang="fr">jouer des gambettes</i> (popular: may be translated ‘to leg it’; ‘to stir one’s stumps’; <i lang="fr">gambettes</i> is from the old French <i lang="fr">gambe</i>, a leg); <i lang="fr">s’esbigner</i> (popular: properly ‘to give the slip’); <i lang="fr">ramoner ses tuyaux</i> (popular: lit. ‘to sweep one’s chimney’; <i lang="fr">ramoner</i>, in its primary cant signification of ‘to mutter’ or ‘to mumble,’ is an allusion +to the rumbling noise produced by sweeping a chimney. <i lang="fr">Se faire ramoner</i> is ‘to go to confession,’ or ‘to take a purgative’—the one a moral, and the other +a physical cleansing. Hence <i lang="fr">ramoner ses tuyaux</i>, ‘to run away,’ in reference to the speedy locomotion consequent upon the process +of purging); <i lang="fr">foutre le camp</i> (popular: equivalent to ‘hook it’; a coarse expression); <i lang="fr">tirer le chausson</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">se vanner</i> (thieves: Michel derives this from the Italian <i lang="it">vannare</i>, ‘to flap the wings,’ but another authority refers it to the motions of the body +and arms of a winnower; the word in literary French signifying ‘to sift’ or ‘to winnow.’ +Others trace it to the old French <i lang="fr">vanoyer</i>, ‘to disappear.’ In all cases, however, it would seem to be equivalent to the English +‘come shake yourself! be off!’); <i lang="fr">ambier</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">chier du poivre</i> (popular: ‘to abscond,’ or ‘to fail to be at hand when needed’); <i lang="fr">se débiner</i>, or <i lang="fr">se débiner des fumerons</i> (popular: ‘to stir one’s stumps’); <i lang="fr">caleter</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">attacher une gamelle</i> (popular and thieves’); <i lang="fr">camper</i> (low); <i lang="fr">affuter ses pincettes</i> (thieves’: lit. ‘to sharpen the pins’ or ‘to leg it’); and many others. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">German Synonyms.</span> <i lang="de">Abbaschen</i> (from <i lang="de">paschen</i>, ‘to smuggle’); <i lang="de">abbauen</i> (literally ‘to remove, or finish’ [a building]); <i lang="de">abfocken</i>; <i lang="de">abhalchen</i> (from Hebrew <i lang="und">holach</i>, ‘to go’); <i lang="de">schefften</i>; <i lang="de">abschnurren</i> (a beggar-musicians’ term; also to beg through a lane, town, or district. [M.H.G., +<i lang="de">snurren</i>, <i lang="de">schnurren</i>, <i lang="de">schnurrant</i>]); <i lang="de">abtarchenen</i>; <i lang="de">abtippeln</i> (to run away secretly); <i lang="de">alchen</i> (from Hebrew <i lang="und">holach</i>, ‘to go’); <i lang="de">aschween</i> (Hanoverian: according to Thiele <i lang="de">hascheweine</i>—probably corrupted from <i lang="de">schuw</i>; <i lang="de">heschiw</i>, ‘to turn round’); <i lang="de">blättern</i> (corrupted from <i lang="de">plettern</i>—Hebrew <i lang="und">pleto</i>); <i lang="de">caball</i> (from Latin <i lang="la">caballus</i>, ‘a horse’; hence, to fly quickly as if on horseback); <i lang="de">dippeln</i> (a Viennese thieves’ term) <i lang="de">fucken</i> or <i lang="de">focken</i>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Italian Fourbesque.</span> <i lang="it">Sbignare</i> or <i lang="it">svignare</i> (these words though given as cant by the author of the <i lang="it">Nuovo Modo</i> are now received words); <i lang="it">comprare</i> (lit. ‘to buy’); <i lang="it">comprar viole</i>; <i lang="it">allungare il muro</i> (lit. ‘to lengthen the wall’); <i lang="it">balzare</i> (lit. ‘to caper,’ ‘to skip,’ ‘to bounce’); <i lang="it">batter <span class="pageNum" id="pb52">[<a href="#pb52">52</a>]</span>la calcosa</i> (lit. ‘to beat the earth.’ <i>Cf.</i>, American ‘to cut dirt’); <i lang="it">dare a lata</i>; <i lang="it">scoscare</i>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Spanish Germania.</span> <i lang="es">Piñarse</i> (an old and now obsolete term); <i lang="es">alar</i>; <i lang="es">alarse</i>; <i lang="es">alolargo</i> (lit. ‘at large’); <i lang="es">picar</i> (lit. ‘to use the spurs’); <i lang="es">safarse</i> (lit. ‘to escape’ or ‘save oneself’ [from arrest]). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Amuse</b>, <i>verb.</i> (old cant).—To fling dust or snuff in the eyes of a person intended to be robbed. +Also, to invent some plausible tale, to delude shop-keepers and others, thereby to +put them off their guard, and so to obtain an opportunity of robbing them. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Amusers</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant and American thieves’).—A certain class of thieves’ accomplices who throw +snuff, pepper, and other noxious substances in the eyes of the person they intend +to rob, a confederate then, while apparently coming to the rescue, completing the +operation. In this, as in much of the slang of the criminal classes, there runs a +vein of brutal cynicism. Though obsolete in England the term survives in America amongst +the criminal classes. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anabaptist</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old slang).—A pickpocket caught in the act, and punished with the discipline of +the pump or horse-pond.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anchor.</b> <span class="sc">To come to an anchor</span>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (nautical and common).—To stop; to sit down; to rest. [From the operation of bringing +ships to a standstill by casting anchor.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anchorage</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—An abode; where one dwells. Of nautical origin (<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Anchor</span>). For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Diggings</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ancient Mariners</b>, <i>subs</i>. (Univ. Oxford).—A term applied to rowing dons. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>And Don’t You Forget It</b>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—A senseless string of words employed indiscriminately in season and out +of season. Like ‘Who’s your hatter?’ ‘How’s your poor feet?’ ‘Not for Joe!’ ‘Does +your mother know you’re out?’ ‘What! again! so soon?’ and many others, which every +now and then have caught the ‘fancy’ of the streets of our large towns, the phrase +under consideration has run an almost riotous course through the large centres of +population in America. In most cases these strings of words convey no special idea, +and can only be described as utterly vulgar, without the slightest <span class="corr" id="xd33e7926" title="Source: scintilation">scintillation</span> of wit or humour of any kind. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Boston Weekly Globe</i>, Feb. 29. There can be no two opposing opinions in that respect. Great capital demands +dividends. Dividends can be had only from a prosperous business. A prosperous business +must recognise the law of supply and demand, and if the public demand dirt the newspapers +will furnish dirt—<span class="sc">and don’t you forget it</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Detroit Free Press</i>, Oct. 6. ‘Did you see any Quakers in Philadelphia?’ was asked of a Detroiter who +lately returned from that city. +</p> +<p class="cit">‘Only one that I was sure of.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">‘Did he ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ you?’ +</p> +<p class="cit">‘He did. He got down off his hack and said: ‘If thee don’t pay me 2 dols. I’ll knock +thy blamed head off,’ and I paid, although I knew the regular fare was twelve shillings. +You don’t want to fool with those Quakers any, <span class="sc">and don’t you forget it</span>.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb53">[<a href="#pb53">53</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>And He Didn’t</b>, <i>phr.</i> (tailors’).—A phrase of the <span class="sc">all my eye</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) stamp, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘You tell me you have not; but for all that I think you have’—the action referred +to being generally of a discreditable character. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>And No Mogue?</b> <i>phr.</i> (tailors’).—Used in a variety of ways to signify doubt and uncertainty. It is equivalent +to the street gamin’s ‘no kid?’ when used interrogatively, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘there’s no mistake, is there?’ ‘Now, joking apart?’ Also used as a ‘set down’ to +narrators claiming descent from Baron Munchausen, in which case it is equivalent to +the ‘You don’t say so!’ of politer circles; in both cases the spokesman conveys the +idea that one’s credulity has been somewhat taxed. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>And No Whistle</b>, <i>phr.</i> (tailors’).—A kind of <i lang="la">tu quoque</i>; usually applied to a man by a listener desiring to convey to the speaker the idea +that no matter what others may think to the contrary, he [the listener] believes that +what has been said refers to the person speaking. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Andrew Millar</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—A curious cant name for a ship of war; sometimes simply <span class="sc">Andrew</span>. Its origin is quite unknown; but it has been pointed out that Antonio, in the <i>Merchant of Venice</i>, speaks of one of his vessels as his ‘wealthy <span class="sc">Andrew</span>’; and it has been conjectured that in this case the ship was named after the celebrated +Admiral Andrea Doria, who died in 1560. But to trace any connection between this <span class="sc">Andrew</span>, however general the use of the name may have become, and the <span class="sc">Andrew Millar</span> of modern sailors’ slang, would be difficult. +</p> +<p class="cit">1598. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Merchant of Venice</i>, i., i., 27. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">But I should think of shallows and of flats, </p> +<p class="line">And see my wealthy <span class="sc">Andrew</span> dock’d in sand. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">Among Australian smugglers the term still survives for a revenue cutter. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Angel</b> or <b>Flying Angel</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Explained by quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">James Greenwood</span>, <i>Seaside Insanity</i> in <i>Odd People in Odd Places</i>, p. 45. It is at this point when the one day excursionist, who, as well as his wife, +has an olive-branch or two with him, finds his fortitude suddenly collapse. With the +youngest but one (his good lady, of course, carries the baby) bestriding his shoulder, +he puts his best foot foremost from the beach to the town so as to be in good time +at the station. He is hot and fagged, and his temper is not improved by the knowledge +that the cherub to whom he is giving a ‘<span class="sc">flying angel</span>’ is smearing his Sunday hat with the seaweed with which its little fists are full. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Angelicas.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Angelics</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Angelics</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Unmarried young ladies. Now <span class="sc">Angelicas</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, p. 5. (Dicks’ ed., 1889.) <i>Jerry.</i> You think the cut of my clothes rather too rustic—eh? <i>Tom.</i> Exactly; dress is the order of the day. A man must have the <i>look</i> of a gentleman, if he has nothing else. We must assume a style if we have it not. +This, what do you call it?—this cover-me-decently, was all very well at Hawthorn Hall, +I daresay; but here, among the pinks in Rotten Row, the ladybirds in the Saloon, the +<span class="sc">angelics</span> at Almack’s, the top-of-the-tree heroes, the legs and levanters at Tattersall’s, +nay, even among the millers at the Fives, it would be taken for nothing less than +the index of a complete flat. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb54">[<a href="#pb54">54</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Angeliferous</b>, <i>adj.</i> (American).—Angelic; also super-excellent; a factitious word. It is interesting to +note that ‘angelification,’ ‘angelify,’ and ‘angelified,’ were in use in the seventeenth +century, but never to any great extent. [From <span class="sc">angel</span> + <span class="sc">iferous</span>, a spurious form based on the model of ‘auriferous.’] It is said to have been first +used by Bird in his novel, entitled <i>Nick of the Woods</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Angels Altogether</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (West Indian).—A sobriquet applied to habitual drunkards. It originated about the +year 1876, and was, in the first instance, a <i>bon-mot</i> of a well-known sugar planter on the East Coast Demerara. A negro hand, notorious +for his hard drinking, applied for a holiday, and the manager having a suspicion that +Quashie wanted it simply to go ‘on the drink,’ bantered him as follows:—‘John! you +were drunk on Sunday?’ ‘Yes, massa!’ ‘Monday too?’ ‘Yes, massa!’ and on the question +being repeated as regards Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, it elicited similar +responses, whereupon the ‘boss’ quietly, but pointedly said, ‘But John, you can’t +be an <span class="sc">angel altogether</span>, you know!’ The story got abroad, caught on, and in a short time the whole colony +rang with the expression. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Angel’s Footstool</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (nautical).—Yankee skippers, given to high falutin’, aver that their craft carry +far more canvas than any vessel afloat of ‘foreign’ origin (the term ‘foreign’ including +British bottoms, as well as those of nations other than Anglo-Saxon). Imaginary sails +are crowded on their craft, among these being one which they jokingly call an <span class="sc">angel’s footstool</span>. It is pretended to be a square sail, and is supposed to top the <span class="sc">skyscrapers</span>, <span class="sc">moon-sails</span>, and <span class="sc">cloud cleaners</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Angel’s Gear</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (nautical).—It is thus that ‘jolly tars’ sometimes speak of female attire. Jack is +notoriously most susceptible where a petticoat is concerned. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Angel’s-Oil</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A seventeenth century colloquialism for money used for bribery; sometimes +<span class="sc">oil of angels</span>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Actual</span>, and <span class="sc">Boodle</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Angel’s Suit</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (tailors’).—A ‘combination’ garment for males. The coat and waistcoat were made in +one, and the ‘unmentionables’ buttoned on to it. Neither garment nor name was extensively +adopted. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Angel’s Whisper</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (military).—A name given to the call to defaulter’s drill. Needless to say it is, +as Artemus Ward would express it, ‘wrote sarcastic.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anglers</b>, <b>Hookers</b>, or <b>Starrers</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Pilferers or petty thieves, who, with a stick having a hook at the end, steal +goods from shop windows, etc. So far Grose; but Duncombe adds that <span class="sc">starrers</span> are an order of thieves who break show glasses in jewellers’ windows <span class="pageNum" id="pb55">[<a href="#pb55">55</a>]</span>and, in the consequent confusion steal the goods. The term is a very ancient one. +Dekker in <i>English Villanies</i> [1632], thus describes an ‘<span class="sc">angler</span> for duds’:—‘He carries a short staff in his hand, which is called a filch, having +in the nab or head of it a ferme (that is to say a hole) into which, upon any piece +of service, when he goes a filching, he putteth a hooke of iron, with which hook he +angles at a window in the dead of night for shirts, smockes, or any other linen or +woollen.’ It would appear from this that modern thieves are both much more daring +and expert. It is not an uncommon thing for a crack thief, in the broad daylight, +in the most crowded streets of London, to break a jeweller’s window, snatch some valuables, +and make off with them. An iron instrument is used for the purpose which is concealed +by the coat sleeve.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Area sneak</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Angling Cove</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A receiver of stolen goods.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Fence</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Angling for Farthings</b>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (old thieves’).—Begging out of a prison window with a cap or box, let down at the +end of a long string<span>.</span>—<i>Grose</i>. Such a practice, it is needless to say, would be impossible nowadays.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Hooker</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anglomaniacs</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (American).—A club in Boston is thus self-styled. Its members are opposed to anything +British in every shape and form. The term is of course a contradiction, and should, +to express the policy of its members, be <i>Anglophobists</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Angry Boys.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bloods</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Angular Party</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (common).—A term given to any gathering of people of which the number is odd; say +three, seven, thirteen, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Animal</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A new arrival at the United States Military Academy at West Point. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Snooker</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To go the whole animal</span> (American).—A variant of ‘to go the whole hog.’ In the West Indies it is varied by +‘to go the whole dog.’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Hog</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1838. <span class="sc">C. Dickens</span>, <i>Nicholas Nickleby</i>, p.… Opposing all half measures, and preferring <span class="sc">to go the extreme animal</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">G. A. Sala</span>, <i>Twice Round the Clock</i>, p. 62.… that they had much better pay first-class, and <span class="sc">go the entire animal</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Animules</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—This expression is very generally used in the South-western territories, +and in California, as a substitute for ‘mules.’ A witty play upon ‘animals’ and ‘mules.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1834(?) <i>Centre-Pole Bill, in Overland Monthly.</i> ‘Ten miles to town! Waal, stranger, I guess I’ll stake out here to-night. Them <span class="sc">animules</span> is too beat to do that. Where’s yer water?’ ‘It’s all around you to-night; but you +can turn your mules into the corral.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ankle.</b> <span class="sc">To sprain one’s ankle</span>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (old).—When a girl has been seduced she is said to have <span class="sc">sprained her ankle</span>. Both French and German slang have analogous expressions; in the former, <i lang="fr">elle a mal aux genoux</i> is said of a woman who is pregnant, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘she has a bad knee.’ <span class="pageNum" id="pb56">[<a href="#pb56">56</a>]</span>In German, ladies so placed ‘lose a shoe’; but of synonyms there are plenty.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Leg</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ankle-Beaters</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—A class of boys who attended cattle markets for the purpose of driving to +the slaughter-house the animals purchased by the butcher. They were called <span class="sc">ankle-beaters</span> from their driving the animals with long wattles, and beating them on the legs to +avoid spoiling or bruising the flesh. Also called <span class="sc">penny-boys</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), because they received one penny per head as remuneration. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anne’s Fan</b>, properly <b>Queen Anne’s Fan</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (common).—Putting the tip of the thumb of either hand to the nose, and then spreading +the fingers in the shape of a fan. A gesture of contempt often intensified either +by twiddling the digits when in the position named, or by similarly placing the other +hand in an extended line. It is also called <span class="sc">taking a sight</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), and <span class="sc">biting the thumb</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Annex</b>, <i>verb.</i> (American).—To steal; in England the wise it call ‘convey.’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bone</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anodyne</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—A euphemism for death. From the figurative sense of the word—anything +that soothes wounded or excited feelings, or that lessens the sense of misfortunes. +<i>Cf.</i>, Old English slang term for a halter, <span class="sc">Anodyne necklace</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i> (American thieves’).—To kill. <i>Cf.</i>, foregoing; also <span class="sc">To cook one’s goose</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anodyne Necklace</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—A halter. An <i>anodyne</i> is that which allays or extinguishes pain, and the hangman’s rope may indeed be regarded, +from one point of view, as a cure for all pains. The expression is old, being traced +back to 1639. During the period when the death penalty was inflicted for all kinds +of comparatively trivial offences—for sheep stealing, and even highway robberies of +not more than forty shillings value—synonyms equally grim and sententious were numerous. +According to Wilyam Bullein, an <span class="sc">anodyne necklace</span> was that which ‘light fellows merrily will call … neckweede, or <span class="sc">Sir Tristam’s knot</span>, or <span class="sc">St. Andrew’s lace</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).’ Other terms for the hangman’s noose were <span class="sc">hempen cravat</span>, <span class="sc">horse’s nightcap</span>, <span class="sc">Tyburn tippet</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1639. <span class="sc">F. Beaumont</span>, <i>Bloody Brother</i>, Act iii., Sc. 2. [Speaks of the hangman’s halter as a ‘necklace.’] +</p> +<p class="cit">1766. <span class="sc">Oliver Goldsmith</span>, <i>Vicar of Wakefield</i> [works, Globe ed., chap. xx., p. 43.<span class="corr" id="xd33e8422" title="Not in source">]</span> [George Primrose’s cousin exclaims] ‘May I die by an <span class="sc">anodyne necklace</span>, but I’d rather be an under-turnkey in Newgate [than an usher in a boarding-school<span class="corr" id="xd33e8427" title="Source: ’]">]’</span>. +</p> +<p>The water poet (John Taylor, a Thames waterman, 1580–1654), explaining the virtue +of hemp, says:— +</p> +<div class="lgouter"> +<p class="line">Some call it neck-weed, for it hath a tricke </p> +<p class="line"><i>To cure the necke</i> that’s troubled with the crick. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">An <span class="sc">anodyne necklace</span> was also the name of a quack amulet, which, for a long period, was a household word. +This famous remedy occupied as prominent a position in the advertising columns of +the journals of the middle of the <span class="pageNum" id="pb57">[<a href="#pb57">57</a>]</span>eighteenth as Holloway’s pills in the latter part of the nineteenth century. This +necklace was of beads artificially prepared, small, like barleycorns, and cost five +shillings. For foreign synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Horse’s nightcap</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anoint</b>, <i>verb.</i> (familiar).—To beat soundly; to thrash; humorously derived from the proper meaning +of the word, ‘to smear’ or ‘rub over with oil or other unctuous substances.’ In the +North of England the saying is somewhat more analogous—‘to <span class="sc">anoint</span> with the sap of a hazel rod.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1175. <i>Rom. of Partenay</i> (<span class="sc">Skeat</span>), 5653. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Then thay put hym hout, the kyng away fly, </p> +<p class="line">Which so well was <span class="sc">anoynted</span> indede, </p> +<p class="line">That no slene ne pane had he hole of brede. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1703. <span class="sc">Fuller’s</span> <i>Trip to Bridewell</i>, quoted in Ashton’s <i>The Fleet</i>, p. 211. The whipper began to <span class="sc">noint</span> me with his instrument, that had, I believe, about a dozen strings notted at the +end. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Rod. Random</i>, ch. v. ‘I’ll bring him to the gangway, and <span class="sc">anoint</span> him with a cat-and-nine-tails.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1824. <span class="sc">W. Irving</span>, <i>Tales of a Trav.</i>, II., 287. Seize a trusty staff and <span class="sc">anoint</span> the back of the aggressor. +</p> +<p>There seems to be some connection, too, between this sense of <span class="sc">to anoint</span>, and the depraved use of <span class="sc">anointed</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) to signify great rascality. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Strap oil</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anoint</b> or <b>Grease the Palm</b>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (common).—To bribe. The Scotch say ‘to creesh the luif.’ The expression is very old. +</p> +<p class="cit">1584. <span class="sc">Knox</span>, <i>Hist. of Reformation</i>, <i>works</i> [1846] I., 102. Yea, the handis of our Lordis so liberallie were <span class="sc">anoynted</span>. +</p> +<p><i>See</i> <span class="sc">Grease the palm</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anointed</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (old).—1. Used in a depraved sense to signify eminence in rascality. The most probable +derivation appears to be that suggested by Prof. Skeat [<i>N. and Q.</i>, 3 S., ix., 422]. In a French MS., <i>Romance of Melusine</i>, is an account of a man who had received a thorough and severe beating, which is +thus referred to:—<i lang="fr">Qui anoit este si bien oignt</i>. The English version [Early English Text Society] translates this, ‘which so well +was <span class="sc">anoynted</span> indeed.’ From this it is clear that to <span class="sc">anoint</span> a man was to give him a sound drubbing, and that the word was so used in the fifteenth +century. Thus, an <span class="sc">anointed</span> rogue means either one who has been well thrashed or who has deserved to be. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">To anoint</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1769. <span class="sc">Robertson</span>, <i>Hist. of Reign of Charles V.</i> Many assumed the clerical character for no other reason than that it might screen +them from the punishment which their actions deserved. The German nobles complained +loudly that their <span class="sc">anointed</span> malefactors, as they called them, seldom suffered capitally even for the most enormous +crimes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1825. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>St. Ronan’s Well</i>, ch. xxxvii. ‘But, not being Lord Etherington, and an <span class="sc">anointed</span> scoundrel into the bargain, I will content myself with cudgelling him to death.’ +</p> +<p>2. Knowing; ripe for mischief.—<i>Duncombe.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anonyma</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A lady of the demi-monde; generally, though not invariably, applied to +one of the better class. Women of this status were also called by the <i>Times</i> <span class="sc">pretty horsebreakers</span>, a notorious <span class="sc">anonyma</span> (<i>circa</i> 1868) having been a good horsewoman. Another and earlier name <span class="pageNum" id="pb58">[<a href="#pb58">58</a>]</span>was <span class="sc">Incognita</span>; this as well as <span class="sc">anonyma</span> had reference to the unrecognised position these ladies hold in what is called ‘Society,’ +which tries to shut its eyes to a product of its own vice. The French <i>cocotte</i> best corresponds to the English term. For synonyms generally, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack hack</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">G. A. Sala</span>, <i>Quite Alone</i>, ch. i. Is that <span class="sc">anonyma</span> driving twin ponies in a low phaeton, a parasol attached to her whip, and a groom +with folded arms behind her? Bah! there are so many <span class="sc">anonymas</span> nowadays. If it isn’t the Nameless One herself, it is Synonyma. +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <span class="sc">Ouida</span>, <i>Strathmore</i>, ch. vi. ‘I’m getting tired of Mondes, one confounds so easily with Demi-monde, and +aristocrats that are so near allied to <span class="sc">anonyma</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <span class="sc">Doran</span>, <i>In and about Drury Lane</i>, vol. II., p. 159. Those <span class="sc">anonymas</span>, who dress with such exquisite propriety lest they should be mistaken for modest +women. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Modern Society</i>, July 13, p. 852. ‘Christopher’s Honeymoon,’ by Mr. Malcolm Watson, produced at the +Strand, on Wednesday, is not wholly bad, but it is <i>too thin</i>. The honeymooner is surprised at his wedding breakfast by the news that a former +wife, whom he thought dead, is still alive. Matters are still further complicated +when his mother-in-law mistakes his buxom laundress for a fair <span class="sc">anonyma</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Another.</b> <span class="sc">You’re another</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—A retort—in usage hardly courteous or suave. Generally spoken in anger +or resentment. The quotations which follow specify clearly the manner of use. It is +interesting to note how very old is this common rejoinder—nearly 350 years; it is, +moreover, an example which fully illustrates the value of the historical method in +dealing with slang words and phrases. +</p> +<p class="cit">c. 1534. <span class="sc">N. Udall</span>, <i>Roister Doister</i>, III., v., p. 58 (Arber). <span class="sc">R. Royster.</span> If it were another but thou, it were a tenane. <span class="sc">M. Mery.</span> <span class="sc">Ye are an other</span> your selfe, sir. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1750. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, bk. IX., ch. vi. ‘You mistake me, friend,’ cries Partridge, ‘I did not mean to abuse +the cloth; I only said your conclusion was a <i lang="la">non-sequitur</i>.’ ‘<span class="sc">You are another</span>,’ cries the Serjeant, ‘an’ you come to that. No more a <i lang="la">sequitur</i> than yourself.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Pickwick</i>, ch. xv., p. 123. ‘Sir,’ said Mr. Tupman, ‘you’re a fellow.’ ‘Sir,’ said Mr. Pickwick, +‘<span class="sc">you’re another</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <span class="sc">Sir W. Harcourt</span>, <i>Speech at Eighty Club</i>, Feb. 21. You know the little urchins in the street have a conclusive argument. They +say ‘<span class="sc">you’re another</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Another Acrobat</b>, <i>phr.</i> (music-hall).—Another drink—<span class="sc">acrobat</span> being a play upon the word ‘tumbler,’ <i>i.e.</i>, a glass. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Another Guess</b>, <i>adj.</i>, or <b>Another Guess Sort of Man</b>, <i>phr.</i> (old). A cute man; one who is, in modern lingo, <span class="sc">up to snuff</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). ‘Guess’ suggests an erroneous derivation; the word is really a corruption of ‘<span class="sc">another-gates</span>’ [according to Murray the original genitive case ‘of another-gate, <i>i.e.</i>, of another way, manner, or fashion’]. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Another Lie Nailed to the Counter</b>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—A detected slander. The practice of nailing spurious coins to shop counters +is, even yet, not an obsolete custom in country districts; and hence, probably, is +derived this colloquialism. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Texas Siftings</i>, Oct. 20. ‘Who employed you last?’ ‘A Republican speaker, who had me back up his +declaration that Cleveland was in the habit of beating his wife!’ ‘But that <span class="sc">lie was nailed</span> a good while ago.’ ‘I know it,’ chuckled the <span class="sc">C.L<span>.</span></span>, ‘but it’s easy enough to pull out the nail.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb59">[<a href="#pb59">59</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Antagonise</b>, <i>verb.</i> (sporting).—This, ‘to act as an opponent,’ sounds very like slang; but, as a matter +of fact, so long as the antagonising forces are of the same kind the word is legitimate +enough. It has been so used from 1634 downwards, by Herbert, Keats, John Stuart Mill, +and others. Only when (as for example in America a person in political phraseology +is said to <span class="sc">antagonise</span> a measure when it is meant that he opposes it) the word is used in connection with +antagonistic forces <i>not</i> of a kind can it be regarded as partaking of slang. In the quotation by Barrère from +the <i>Saturday Review</i> (no date given: refer, however, to <i>Sat. R.</i>, Dec. 18, 1886, p. 799) the word is used in a perfectly correct manner. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Saturday Review</i> on Sporting Slang, 18 Dec, p. 799, col. 1. Dingley Dell sent Jones and Robinson to +the wickets, where they were antagonised with the leather by Alf and the Young Phenomenon. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anthony</b>, or <b>To Cuff Anthony</b>, <i>verb.</i> (old).—To knock one’s knees together from an infirmity. Also called <span class="sc">to cuff Jonas</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Antony</span>, or <span class="sc">Anthony Cuffin</span>, <i>subs.</i>—A knock-kneed man. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anthony</b>, or <b>Tantony Pig</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Tantony pig</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1787. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. The favourite or smallest pig in the litter; to follow like a tantony pig, <i>i.e.</i>, St. Anthony’s pig, signified to follow close at one’s heels. St. Anthony, the hermit, +was a swine herd, and is always represented with his bell and pig. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Antimony</b>, <i>subs.</i> (printers’).—Type; so called from one of its component parts. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anyhow.</b> <span class="sc">Anyhow you can fix it</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—A slang expression of acquiescence as, <i>e.g.</i>, ‘I don’t know if you’ll succeed, but <span class="sc">anyhow you can fix it</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Any Other Man!</b> <i>phr.</i> (American).—A call to order addressed to prosy, discursive speakers when they give +themselves over to the use of synonymous terms. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Any Racket</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming slang).—A penny faggot. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anything.</b> <span class="sc">Like</span>, or <span class="sc">as anything</span>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (common).—A vulgarism rather than slang. Used in the same manner, as are <span class="sc">like one o’clock</span>; <span class="sc">like old boots</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), when a person is at a loss for a simile.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Winkey</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1542. <span class="sc">Udall’s</span> <i>Erasmus Apoph.</i>, p. 32. The young maiden, where the lokers on quaked and trembled for feare, daunced +without any feare at all emong sweardes and kniues, beyng as sharpe <span class="sc">as anythyng</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1740. <span class="sc">Richardson</span>, <i>Pamela</i>, ii., 57. O my dear father and mother, I fear your girl will grow as proud <span class="sc">as anything</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>I. L.</i> (<i>Misadv. at Margate</i>). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The tear-drop in his little eye again began to spring, </p> +<p class="line">His bosom throbb’d with agony, he cried <span class="sc">like anything</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1878. <span class="sc">Carroll</span>, <i>Through a Looking Glass</i>, iv., 73. They wept <span class="sc">like anything</span> to see such quantities of sand. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anythingarian</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A contemptuous term for one who is apathetic as regards his political or +religious creed, or other matters upon which mankind generally hold decided views. +[From <span class="sc">anything</span> + <span class="sc">arian</span>, after <i>trinit</i>-<span class="sc">arian</span>, <i>unit</i>-<span class="sc">arian</span>.] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb60">[<a href="#pb60">60</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1717. <i>Entertainer</i>, Nov. 6 [quoted in N. & Q., 7 S., vi., 66]. Nor, which is ten times worse, Free-thinkers, +Atheists, <span class="sc">Anythingarians</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1738. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Polite Conversation</i> (conv. i.). +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Lady Sm.</i> What religion is he of? +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Lady Sp.</i> Why, he is an <span class="sc">anythingarian</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Lady Ans.</i> I believe he has his religion to chuse, my lord. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">C. Kingsley</span>, <i>Alton Locke</i>, ch. xxii. They made puir Robbie Burns an <span class="sc">anythingarian</span> with their blethers. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anythingarianism</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—The creed or doctrine of an Anythingarian.—[<i>See</i> preceding]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">C. Kingsley</span> (<i>Life</i>, i., 215). Schiller’s ‘Gods of Greece’ expresses, I think, a tone of feeling very +common, and which finds its vent in modern Neo-Platonism—<span class="sc">Anythingarianism</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anything Else.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Not doing anything else</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Anywhere Down There!</b> (tailors’).—If, in a workroom or elsewhere where tailors congregate, an article is +dropped upon the floor, <span class="sc">anywhere down there!</span> is used as a kind of catch-phrase. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apartments.</b> <span class="sc">To have apartments to let</span>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (popular).—1. To take rank in the estimation of one’s fellows as an idiot; ‘a born +fool’—one who is empty-headed, not furnished with brains. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> To be dotty; to have a screw loose; to be balmy; to have a bee in one’s bonnet (Scotch); +to be off one’s chump; to have no milk in the cocoa-nut; to be touched; to be balmy +in one’s crumpet; to be wrong in the upper storey; to have rats in the upper storey; +to have a tile loose; to be half baked. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Avoir une écrevisse dans la tourte</i>, or <i lang="fr">dans le vol-au-vent</i> (popular: that is ‘to have a crawfish in the pie,’ or ‘in the head.’ <i>Cf.</i>, ‘to have rats in the upper storey’); <i lang="fr">avoir la boule détraquée</i> (popular: lit. ‘to have one’s ball turned’); <i lang="fr">avoir le coco félé</i> (popular: lit. ‘to have one’s cocoa nut cracked.’ In English slang the head is also +called a ‘cocoa-nut’); <i lang="fr">avoir le trognon détraquée</i> (popular: ‘to have a bee in one’s bonnet.’ <i lang="fr">Trognon</i> is also a slang term for the head or ‘noddle’); <i lang="fr">avoir un asticot dans la noisette</i> (popular: lit. ‘to have a maggot in one’s nut.’ In English slang the head is likewise +‘the nut.’ <i>Cf.</i>, also the expression ‘a worm in the bud’); <i lang="fr">avoir un bœuf gras dans le char</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">avoir un cancrelat dans la boule</i> (popular: lit. ‘to have a cockroach in one’s ball’—‘ball’ here <span class="corr" id="xd33e9105" title="Source: refering">referring</span> to the head or ‘nut.’ <i lang="fr">Cancrelat</i> is properly <i>kakerlac</i> or American cockroach); <i lang="fr">avoir un hanneton dans le reservoir</i> (popular: lit. ‘to have a May-bug’ or ‘cockchafer in one’s cistern’ or ‘well.’ This +seems to be on all fours with ‘a bee in one’s bonnet.’ The phrase sometimes runs <i lang="fr">avoir un hanneton dans le plafond</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, to have a cockchafer in one’s ceiling, and here the analogy between the two phrases +is more clearly marked); <i lang="fr">avoir un moustique dans la boite au sel</i> (popular: lit. ‘to have a mosquito in the salt-box or cellar’); <i lang="fr">avoir un voyageur dans l’omnibus</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">avoir une araignée dans le plafond</i> (popular: lit. ‘to have a spider in<span id="xd33e9131"></span> the head<span>’</span>; <i lang="fr">plafond</i>, ‘a ceiling,’ be it noted is a slang term for ‘the <span class="pageNum" id="pb61">[<a href="#pb61">61</a>]</span>head’); <i lang="fr">avoir une grenouille dans l’aquarium</i> (popular: lit: ‘to have a frog in one’s aquarium’); <i lang="fr">avoir une hirondelle dans le soliveau</i> (popular: ‘to have a swallow in the head’); <i lang="fr">avoir une Marseillaise dans le Kiosque</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">avoir une punaise dans le soufflet</i> (popular: ‘to have a bug in one’s brain’); <i lang="fr">avoir une sardine dans l’armoire à glace</i> (popular: ‘to have a sardine in the head or brain.’ <i lang="fr">Armoire à glace</i> = the head); <i lang="fr">avoir une trichinne dans le jambonneau</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">jambonneau</i>, the head); <i lang="fr">avoir une sauterelle dans la guitare</i> (popular: lit. ‘to have a grasshopper in the guitar’). +</p> +<p>For other synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Tile loose</span>. +</p> +<p>2. A widow is said <span class="sc">to have apartments to let</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ape-leader</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—An old maid. Leading apes in hell was the employment jocularly assigned to +those who neglected to assume marital functions while living. +</p> +<p class="cit">1581. <span class="sc">Lyly</span>, <i>Euphucs</i> (Arb.), 87. Rather thou shouldest leade a lyfe to thine owne lyking in earthe, than +… <span class="sc">leade apes in hell</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1605. <i>Lond. Prodigal</i>, I., 2. ’Tes an old proverb, and you know it well, that women dying maids <span class="sc">lead apes in hell</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1717. <span class="sc">Mrs. Centlivre</span>, <i>Bold Stroke</i>, II., 1. Poor girl; she must certainly <span class="sc">lead apes</span>, as the saying is. +</p> +<p class="cit">1830. <span class="sc">General P. Thompson</span>, <i>Exerc.</i> (1842), I., 198. Joining with other old women, in <span class="sc">leading their apes</span> in Tartarus. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>There are several proverbial sayings in which the ape plays an important part. <span class="sc">To say an ape’s paternoster</span> is to chatter with cold; this corresponds with the French, <i lang="fr">dire des patenôtres de singe</i>. <span class="sc">To put an ape into one’s hood</span> or <span class="sc">cap</span>, to make a fool of one, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apes</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Stock Exchange).—Atlantic and North-Western Railway first mortgage bonds. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apostles</b>, or <b>The Twelve Apostles</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (Cambridge Univ.).—Formerly, when the Poll, or ordinary B.A. degree list was arranged +in order of merit, the last twelve were nicknamed <span class="sc">The Twelve Apostles</span>. They were also called <span class="sc">The Chosen Twelve</span>, and the last, St. Poll or St. Paul—a punning allusion to 1 Cor. xv., 9, ‘For I am +the least of the Apostles, that am not meet to be called an Apostle.’ The list is +now arranged alphabetically and in classes. Hotten suggests that <span class="sc">Apostles</span> is a corruption of <i lang="la">post alios</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘after the others.’ It may perhaps also be mentioned that in one American University +at least, Columbia College, D.C., the last twelve on the B.A. list actually receive +the personal names of the Apostles. +</p> +<p class="cit">1795. <i>Gentleman’s Magazine</i>, Jan., p. 19. [The last twelve names on the Cambridge list are here called <span class="sc">The Twelve Apostles</span>.] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Manœuvering the Apostles</span>, a variant of the familiar expression, ‘to rob Peter to pay Paul’; <i>i.e.</i>, to borrow from one person to pay another. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apostle’s Grove</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The London district known as St. John’s Wood. Also called <span class="sc">grove of the evangelist</span>. Both names are applied sarcastically in allusion to the large numbers of the demi-monde +<span class="pageNum" id="pb62">[<a href="#pb62">62</a>]</span>who live in that quarter of town. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apothecary.</b> <span class="sc">To talk like an apothecary</span>, <i>verb phr.</i> (old).—To talk nonsense; from the pseudo gravity and affectation of knowledge often +assumed by these gentlemen at a time when their status was not legally held under +examination and license of the Apothecaries’ Company. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Apothecaries’ bill</span>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A long bill. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Apothecaries’</span>, or <span class="sc">raw Latin</span>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Now called <span class="sc">dog-Latin</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apple Cart</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common). 1. The human body. A slang term similar to ‘<span class="sc">potato trap</span>,’ ‘<span class="sc">bread-basket</span>,’ ‘<span class="sc">bellows</span>,’ ‘<span class="sc">blue plumb</span>,’ ‘<span class="sc">bacon</span>,’ and ‘<span class="sc">beer-barrel</span>’ (all of which see). There are numerous variations in usage; <i>e.g.</i>, if two men are quarrelling, and a friend of one interferes saying ‘I will upset +his <span class="sc">apple cart</span>’ it means, ‘while you are parleying with the enemy I will knock him down.’ Again, +if a child falls down, says W. W. Skeat (referring to his early Kentish remembrance +of the word), you first enquire if he is much hurt. If he is merely a little frightened +you say, ‘Well, never mind, then; you’ve only upset your <span class="sc">apple cart</span> and spilt the gooseberries.’ The child laughs and all is well again. +</p> +<p>2. Also employed in a figurative sense. <span class="sc">To upset an apple cart</span> sometimes means, not so much to knock a man down, as to prevent him from doing what +he wants to do by the upsetting as it were, of an imaginary <span class="sc">apple cart</span>; <i>i.e.</i>, to thwart; to disarrange; to overthrow; to ruin an undertaking. Sometimes the expression +is varied by <span class="sc">to upset the old woman’s apple cart</span>. Barrère’s reference of the genesis of the phrase to the costermonger’s imaginative +powers is ‘all conjecture and fancy’; as also is his American derivation of the expression +in its more figurative sense. In the first place <span class="sc">apple carts</span> are perfectly familiar objects in all country districts; and, in the second, the +phrase is too old a provincialism to need deriving from the peripatetic vendors in +question. Further, though <span class="sc">to upset his apple cart and spill the peaches</span> may be an American variation for the second sense, as it appears to have been so +used, dialectically, throughout England, the weight of assumption must be given to +its English origin, and subsequent transference to America. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> Beer-barrel; bacon. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Acabit</i> (literally, quality); <i lang="fr">cylindre</i> (popular: lit. ‘a cylinder,’ or ‘barrel.’ <i>Cf.</i> with English ‘beer barrel’); <i lang="fr">grosse caisse</i> (popular: lit. ‘a large case,’ or ‘box’); <i lang="fr">paillasse</i> (popular: lit. ‘a straw mattress’); also <i lang="fr">place d’armes</i>; <i lang="fr">casaquin</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apple Dumpling Shop</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (common).—A woman’s bosom. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Dairies</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apple-Monger.</b>—The same as <span class="sc">apple-squire</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apple-Pie Bed</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (common).—A practical joke, which consists in making up a bed with the sheets doubled +half way <span class="pageNum" id="pb63">[<a href="#pb63">63</a>]</span>up, so as to prevent a person from stretching out at full length, and filling the +bag thus formed with brushes, soap-dishes, etc. So called, either from the apple-turnover, +in which the ‘paste’ is turned over the apples, or from the French, <i lang="fr">à plis</i>, folded. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <span class="sc">C. K. Sharpe</span>, in <i>Correspondence</i> (1888), i., 466. After squeezing myself up, and making a sort of <span class="sc">apple-pye bed</span> with the beginning of my sheet. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Saturday Review</i>, Nov. 3, p. 566, col. 2. Some ‘evil-disposed persons’ have already visited his room, +<span class="sc">made his bed into an apple-pie</span>, plentifully strewn with hair-brushes and razors. +</p> +<p>The French have an analogous phrase, ‘<i lang="fr">mettre un lit en portefeuille</i>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apple-Pie Day</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (Winchester Coll.)—The day on which Six-and-Six (<i>q.v.</i>) is played. It is the Thursday after the first Tuesday in December. So called because +hot apple-pies were served on <span class="sc">gomers</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) in College for dinner. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apple Pie Order</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (familiar).—Exact or perfect order. <span class="corr" id="xd33e9483" title="Source: Etymolygists">Etymologists</span> have long puzzled themselves concerning this expression, and many derivations have +been put forward in explanation. Some have found in it an allusion to the regular +order in which the component parts of some varieties of that toothsome delicacy, apple +pie, were formerly laid one on the top of, or side by side with each other. Others, +on the contrary, scout such a homely origin, and suggest that <span class="sc">apple pie order</span> is <i lang="fr">cap à pied</i> order. The authorities who incline to this view point out that <i lang="fr">cap à pied</i> in the sense of ‘perfectly appointed’ occurs in one of the scenes of <i>Hamlet</i>. Though orthographically the transition from one to the other, at first sight, would +appear to be somewhat lame and halting, yet phonetically the difference is much less +marked. It has further been suggested that <span class="sc">apple pie order</span> is a corruption of ‘Alpha-beta’ <i>i.e.</i>, alphabetical order, but this would seem rather far-fetched, as also is the reference +of it to the nursery rhyme of ‘A was an apple pie; B bit it; C cut it; D divided it,’ +and so on, the allusion being to the regular order in which the letters of the alphabet +occur. Probably the weight of evidence is on the side of the derivation from <i lang="fr">cap à pied</i>, more especially as that phrase was once very familiar. +</p> +<p class="cit">1813. <span class="sc">Scott</span> in Lochart, <i>Life</i>, IV. (1839), 131. The children’s garden is in <span class="sc">apple pie order</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Jacob Faithful</i>, viii., 29. Put the craft a little into <span class="sc">apple pie order</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>I. L.</i> (<i>Old Woman in Grey</i>). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">I am just in the <i>order</i> which some folks—though why, </p> +<p class="line">I am sure I can’t tell you—would call <i>apple pie</i>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Apples.</b> <span class="sc">How we apples swim!</span> <i>phr.</i> (common).—<i>i.e.</i>, ‘What a good time we are having.’ This expression, a very old one, is synonymous +with pleasureable experience coupled with brisk action. +</p> +<p class="cit">1697–1764. <span class="sc">Hogarth</span> (Works by J. Ireland and J. Nichols, London, 1873), III., p. 29. And even this, little +as it is, gives him so much importance in his own eyes, that he assumes a consequential +<span class="pageNum" id="pb64">[<a href="#pb64">64</a>]</span>air, sets his arms akimbo, and strutting among the historical artists cries, ‘<span class="sc">how we apples swim</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <i>Cornhill Mag.</i> (D. Mallett, <i>Tyburn</i>), Dec., p. 737. While tumbling down the turbid stream, Lord, love us, <span class="sc">how we apples swim</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apples and Pears</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (rhyming slang).—A pair of stairs. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apple-Squire</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A harlot’s attendant, or <span class="sc">fancy man</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); these gentry are now commonly called ‘<span class="sc">bullies</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>). Nares gives ‘<span class="sc">squire of the body</span>’ as a synonymous term; also <span class="sc">apron-squire</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1500. (<i>circa</i>) <i>Way to Spyttel Hous</i>, 832 in Hazl. <i>E. P. P.</i>, iv., 60. [Here given as <span class="sc">applesquyers</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">[1580–1654] <span class="sc">Taylor</span>, <i>Discourse by Sea</i> (works II., 21). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Are whoremasters decai’d, are bawds all dead, </p> +<p class="line">Are pandars, pimps, and <span class="sc">apple-squires</span> all fled? [<span class="asc">N.</span>] </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1738. <i>Poor Robin</i>.… Little truth will be found amongst cut-purses, liars, bawds, whores, pimps, pandars, +and <span class="sc">apple-squires</span>; only the pimp pretends to something more of truth than the other, for if he promise +to help you to a whore, he will be sure that she shall not be an honest woman. [<span class="asc">N.</span>] +</p> +<p>For synonyms, ancient and modern, and also foreign equivalents, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Fancy man</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apron.</b> <span class="sc">Green apron</span>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A contemptuous term for a lay preacher.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bible-pounder</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1654. <span class="sc">Warren</span>, <i>Unbelievers</i>, 145. It more befits a <span class="sc">green-apron</span> preacher, than such a Gamaliel. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1705. <span class="sc">Hickeringill</span>, <i>Priestcraft</i> I. (1721). 21. Unbeneficed Noncons. (that live by Alms and no Paternoster, no Penny, +say the <span class="sc">green-aprons</span>). [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1765. <span class="sc">Tucker</span>, <i>Lt. Nat.</i>, II., 451. The gifted priestess amongst the Quakers is known by her <span class="sc">green apron</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aproneer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A shop-keeper; a tradesman. Murray states that the term was used contemptuously +of the Parliamentary party during the Civil Wars. +</p> +<p class="cit">1659. <span class="sc">Gauden</span>, <i>Tears of Church</i>, 238. Some prating sequestrator, or some surly <span class="sc">aproneer</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1690. <span class="sc">D’urfey</span>, <i>Collin’s Walk</i>, c. iii., p. 107. But every sturdy <span class="sc">aproneer</span>, arm’d with battoon, did straight appear. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apron-Rogue</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A labourer; a mechanic. +</p> +<p class="cit">1663. <span class="sc">Killegrew</span>, <i>Parson’s Wedding</i> in Dodsley’s Old Plays (1780), XI., 382. <span class="sc">Apron-rogues</span> with horn hands. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apron-Squire.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Apple-squire</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apron-String Hold</b> or <b>Tenure</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (familiar).—An estate held by a man during his wife’s life; or by virtue of her right. +</p> +<p class="cit">1647. <span class="sc">Ward</span>, <i>Simp. Cobler</i>, 67. <span class="sc">Apron-string tenure</span> is very weak. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1753. <span class="sc">Richardson</span>, <i>Grandison</i>, iv., 23. He cursed the <span class="sc">apron-string</span> tenure, by which he said he held his peace. [<span class="sc">d.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1804. <span class="sc">Mrs. Barbauld</span>, <i>Richardson</i> I., 160. All her fortune in her own power—a very <span class="sc">apron-string tenure</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Apron-Strings.</b> <span class="sc">To be tied to</span> or <span class="sc">always at a woman’s apron-strings</span>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (common).—Under petticoat government; to dangle after a woman. Formerly said only +of children; later of all who follow a woman subserviently. +</p> +<p class="cit">1712. <i>Spectator</i>, No. 506. The fair sex are so conscious to themselves, that they have nothing in +them which can deserve entirely to ingross the whole man, that they heartily despise +one, who, to use their own expression, is always <span class="sc">hanging at their apron-strings</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb65">[<a href="#pb65">65</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">Miss Edgeworth</span>, <i>Helen</i>, ch. viii. A homebred lordling, who, from the moment he <span class="sc">slipped his mother’s apron-strings</span>, had fallen into folly. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Macaulay</span>, <i>History of England</i>, II., 649. He could not submit to be <span class="sc">tied to the apron-strings</span> even of the best of wives. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aqua</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—Water. From the Latin. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aqua Pompaginis</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—Pump water [Dog-Latin; from L., <span class="sc">aqua</span>, water + English, <span class="sc">pump</span> + simulated Latin termination, <i lang="la">aginis</i>]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Aqua Pompaginis</span>.… Apothecaries’ Latin. +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Jack Sheppard</i> [1889], p. 13. ‘Exactly my sentiments,’ rejoined Blueskin. ‘I wouldn’t force him +for the world; but if he don’t <i>tip the stivers</i>, may I be cursed if he don’t get a taste of the <span class="sc">aqua pompaginis</span>. Let’s have a look at the <i>kinchen</i> that ought to have been throttled,’ added he, snatching the child from Wood. ‘My +stars! here’s a pretty <i>lullaby-cheat</i> to make a fuss about—ho ho!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Jack Sheppard</i> [1889], p. 15. ‘He shall go through the whole course,’ replied Blueskin, with a ferocious +grin, ‘unless he comes down to the last grig. We’ll lather him with mud, shave him +with a rusty razor, and drench him with <span class="sc">aqua pompaginis</span>.’ +</p> +<p>For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Adam’s ale</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aquatics</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Eton college).—The particular game of cricket in which men in the boats play. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aqua-Vitæ</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Formerly an alchemic term; but, after a while, popularly received as a generic +name for ardent spirits, such as brandy, whiskey, etc. [From L. = water of life. <i>Cf.</i>, French <i lang="fr">eau-de-vie</i>, and Irish <i>usquebaugh</i>.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arabs</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Nicknames for young street vagrants are numerous. They are ‘Bedouins,’ +‘Street Arabs,’ and ‘Juvenile Roughs’ in London; they are ‘Gamins’ in Paris; ‘Bowery +Boys’ in New York; ‘Hoodlums’ in San Francisco; and ‘Larrikins’ in Melbourne. This +last phrase is an Irish constable’s broad pronunciation of ‘larking,’ applied to the +nightly street performances of these young scamps, there, as elsewhere, a real social +pestilence.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Street Arab</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">Guthrie</span>, <i>Plea for Ragged Schools</i>. [In this work the homeless wanderers and children of the streets were spoken of +as <span class="sc">Arabs of the City</span>, and City Arabs.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arbor Vitæ</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The penis. [Latin; = the Tree of Life]. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Creamstick</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arch.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Ark</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arch-Cove</b> or <b>Arch-Rogue</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—The chief or leader of a gang of thieves. [From Greek, <i>archo</i> to be first, to command, to rule + <span class="sc">cove</span>, a slang term for a man.] Formerly also <span class="sc">dimber damber</span>, <span class="sc">upright man</span>.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Cove</span> and <span class="sc">Area sneak</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Archdeacon</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Oxford Univ.).—Merton strong ale. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arch-Dell</b> or <b>Arch-Doxy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The wife or female companion of an <span class="sc">arch-cove</span>.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Dell</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Archduke</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old slang).—A buffoon; an eccentric person. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb66">[<a href="#pb66">66</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Arch Gonnof.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Dimber damber</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ard</b>, <i>adj.</i> (American thieves’).—Hot; a corrupted form of ‘ardent.’ Formerly ‘a foot.’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Creepers</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Area-Sneak</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A thief who lurks about areas for the purposes of theft. +</p> +<p class="cit">1838. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Nicholas Nickleby</i>, ch. lix., p. 480. ‘Why wasn’t I a thief, swindler, housebreaker, <span class="sc">area-sneak</span>, robber of pence out of the trays of blind man’s dogs?’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <i>English Mechanic</i>, 14 May, p. 181, col. 1. [They] would invariably become pickpockets or <span class="sc">area-sneaks</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <b>Daily Telegraph</b>, June 13, p. 7, col. 3. The <span class="sc">area-sneak</span>, too, may find his occupation partially gone through the strictness of the rules +which encompass the trade of the second-hand dealer. +</p> +<p>Among other names for thieves may be mentioned:— +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English and American.</span> Beak or beaker-hunter (a poultry thief); bug-hunter (speciality—breast pins, studs, +etc.); buz-faker (a pickpocket); buttock and file (a shoplifter); bouncer (one who +steals while bargaining with a tradesman; a shoplifter); bridle-cull (a highwayman); +cracksman (a burglar); crossman (an old term. Literally a man ‘on the cross,’ or who +gets his living surreptitiously); cross-cove (<i>see</i> foregoing); conveyancer (a pickpocket); dancer (a thief who gains entrance to houses +from the roof); flash-cove (a sharper); flashman (a prostitute’s bully who pretends +to catch the victim <i lang="la">in flagrante delicto</i> with his <i>wife</i>, and thus makes an excuse for robbery and extortion); finder (a thief who confines +his depredations to meat-markets and butchers’ shops); gun (a contraction of <span class="sc">gonnof</span>, which <i>see</i>); gleaner, hooker, or angler (these are petty thieves, who work with hooks and rods); +lob-sneak; lully-prigger (one who steals clothes when they are hanging out to dry); +snakesman or sneaksman (a shoplifter; a petty thief); sneeze-lurker (this kind work +by first blinding victims with pepper, etc.); moucher (a prowling thief); mill-ben +(an old cant term, which <i>see</i>); prig; prop-nailer (a ‘prop’ is a scarf pin); palmer (a thief who ‘rings the changes’; +but <i>see</i> under <span class="sc">Palmer</span>); pudding-snammer (an eating-house thief); drummer or drammer (these gentry stupify +their victims prior to robbing them); stook-hauler (speciality—pocket-handkerchiefs); +tooler (a pickpocket); toy-getter (a watch thief). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Un droguiste</i> (corresponds to the English ‘hawk’ or ‘rook’); <i lang="fr">un chêne affranchi</i> (a ‘flash cove’); <i lang="fr">un careur</i>, or <i lang="fr">voleur à la care</i> (thief who robs money-changers while pretending to offer old coins for sale); <i lang="fr">un enfant de la matte</i> (‘a child of folly.’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Family man</span>); <i lang="fr">un tiretaine</i> (a country thief); <i lang="fr">un garçon de cambrouse</i> (a highwayman); <i lang="fr">un garçon de campagne</i> (same as example last quoted); <i lang="fr">un frère de la manicle</i>; <i lang="fr">un philantrope</i> (a peddlar’s term); <i lang="fr">un bonjourier</i> or <i lang="fr">voleur au bonjour</i> (an early morning thief, but <i>see</i> under <span class="sc">Thieves</span>); <i lang="fr">un philibert</i> (of the sharper stamp); <i lang="fr">un philosophe</i> (lit. ‘a philosopher’); <i lang="fr">un enfant de minuit</i> (formerly, says Cotgrave, <i lang="fr">enfants de la messe de minuit</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, companions of the midnight <span class="pageNum" id="pb67">[<a href="#pb67">67</a>]</span>mass, not for devotion, but for robbery and abuse); <i lang="fr">ramastiqueur</i> (one who swindles by means of pocket-book dropping, etc.—a variety of the confidence +trick); <i lang="fr">un jardinier</i>, <i lang="fr">un Americain</i> (‘confidence trick’ men); <i lang="fr">un tirebogue</i> (a watch thief; in English slang a ‘toy-getter’); <i lang="fr">un friauche</i>; <i lang="fr">un grinchisseur de bogues</i> (a watch thief); <i lang="fr">un mion de boule</i> (equivalent to the English ‘prig’); <i lang="fr">un fil de soie</i>; <i lang="fr">un doubleur</i> (= English ‘prig’; <i lang="fr">un doubleur de sorgue</i>, ‘a night thief’); <i lang="fr">un voleur à la tire</i> (a pickpocket); <i lang="fr">un tireur</i> (a pickpocket; literally ‘one who draws out’); etc. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">German Synonyms.</span> <i lang="de">Broschem-blatter</i>; <i lang="de">cochem</i> (a thieves’ accomplice; from Hebrew <i lang="und">chochem</i>, wise, instructed); <i lang="de">erntemackener</i> (thieves who steal from houses while the owners are away harvesting. From <i lang="de">erndte</i>, harvest + <i lang="de">machen</i>, to make); <i lang="de">anstiebler</i> (one who plans robberies; an instigator to theft. A corrupted form of <i lang="de">anstifter</i>, an instigator); <i lang="de">achbrosch</i> (also <i lang="de">achberosch</i>, <i lang="de">achperosch</i>, <i lang="de">achprosch</i>, <i lang="de">approsch</i>, an infamous thief or robber, a rogue, a sharper. Not so much from the Chaldean <i lang="und">achbero</i>, a mouse + <i lang="und">rosch</i>, head, as from the passage <i>Jer. Baba. Mez.</i> 8., <i lang="und">achberi reschii</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘the mice are vile.’ Hence applied primarily to a notorious thief. Thiele says the +expressions have not been so much in use since the suppression of the famous Rhenish +robber gang; the words, however, particularly <i lang="de">achbrosch</i>, are not by any means obsolete, being very much in use by cattle and horsedealers, +and sharpers generally); <i lang="und">ganof</i> (Hebrew, ‘a thief’; from <i lang="und">gonaw</i>, ‘to steal’); <i lang="de">achelpeter</i> (an inactive lazy old thief who sponges upon his confederates. From Hebrew <i lang="und">ochal</i>, to eat + <i lang="de">putzen</i>, from O.H.G., <i>bizan</i>, <i>pizzan</i>, ‘food’); <i lang="de">golehopser</i> (a thief who jumps on a loaded cart or other vehicle whilst in motion to steal boxes +or small packages. In English slang this kind of thief is called a ‘dragsman’); <i lang="de">goleschàchter</i> (the same as preceding, but instead of making off bodily with the booty, the packages +are cut open, and the contents thrown down for an accomplice to secure); <i lang="de">bihengst</i> (a thief who steals bees); <i lang="de">baldower</i> (a principal, or leader of a gang of thieves; one who advises and plans robberies. +<i lang="de">Balhoche</i> is also a man who has an opportunity for theft; <i lang="de">balspiess</i><span id="xd33e10313">,</span> the host of an inn, frequented by thieves and rogues); <i lang="de">brenner</i> (a thief who preys upon others of his kind, by demanding, under threats of exposure, +a share of a successful robbery, without having taken part in it. From <i lang="de">brennen</i>, ‘to claim’; literally ‘to burn’; or it may be from <i lang="de">berennen</i>, ‘to run against or blockade’); <i lang="de">chalfan</i> (also <i lang="de">chalfen</i>, <i lang="de">chalfener</i>, <i lang="de">chilfer</i>, legitimately ‘a money changer,’ but amongst German thieves the name of the rogue +who, in changing money, commits theft. <i>Cf.</i>, English, ‘ringing the changes’); <i lang="de">chawer</i> (Hebrew: literally an associate; <i lang="de">chaweress</i> [<i>fem.</i>], a thief’s confederate; a comrade. <i lang="de">Chawrusse</i>, <i lang="de">kabruse</i>, a gang or confederation of thieves; <i lang="de">chawrusse melochenen</i>, to form a gang of thieves; <i lang="de">chenneter</i>, a thief who knows how to conduct himself with tact and address in good society. +From <span class="pageNum" id="pb68">[<a href="#pb68">68</a>]</span>the Hebrew <i lang="und">chono</i>, gentle, kind, affable); <i lang="de">chessenspiess</i>, <i>fem.</i>, <i lang="de">chessenspiesse</i> (the landlord or mistress of an inn frequented by thieves—a place where they may +find refuge without fear of discovery. From the Hebrew); <i lang="und">chechom</i> (also <i lang="und">chochem</i>, <i lang="de">chochemer</i>,—more frequently spelled with ‘K’—from the Hebrew, the wise one. A prudent, cunning +thief. <i lang="und">Chochem lehorre</i>, a dangerous thief, one prepared for the worst; of a similar meaning is <i lang="und">chochem mechutten</i>, a dangerous companion, a rogue of the worst type); <i lang="de">bahnherr</i> (also <i lang="de">bohnherr</i> and <i lang="de">Herr</i> by itself: literally ‘a road-master’; a burglar—one who prepares a robbery); <i lang="de">diffler</i> (a thoroughly dexterous thief; from <i lang="de">tupfel</i>, ‘a point’); <i lang="de">drängler</i> (a thief, who, to divert the attention of people from his intention, causes a crowd +to assemble); <i lang="de">paddendrücker</i> (a pickpocket—one whose speciality is purses: <i lang="de">drücker</i> is a corrupted form of <i lang="de">trecken</i>, ‘to draw’ or ‘steal’ quickly and adroitly. <i lang="de">Drücker</i>, like <i lang="de">drücken</i>, ‘to steal’ is never used by itself, but always with the object of the theft; hence +<i lang="de">paddendrücker</i>, a purse thief; <i lang="de">luppendrücker</i>, a watch thief; <i lang="de">torfdrücker</i>, a generic name for a pickpocket); <i lang="de">eintreiber</i> (a confederate who entices a victim to play so that his comrade may swindle him); +<i lang="de">erefschieber</i> (a thief who goes out at evening time to commit robberies. Also <i lang="de">erefhalchener</i>, <i lang="de">erefgänger</i>, <i lang="de">erefhändler</i>. <i lang="und">Eref</i> = evening); <i lang="de">fichtegänger</i> (a night thief or burglar); <i lang="de">fiesel</i> (supposed to be derived from <i lang="de">faser</i>, ‘a birch,’ ‘rod,’ or ‘fibre.’ In Vienna, the scum of society is meant by <i lang="de">fiesel</i>—the commonest thief, professional vagabond, a protector of brothels and whores of +the most repulsive kind. These thieves are of great daring, utterly unscrupulous, +and are consequently much dreaded. Some feign to carry on the business of a rag and +bone-picker, what in the <i lang="de">fiesellange</i> or Viennese thieves’ lingo is termed, ‘going out for profit.’ In the sense of ‘a +rod,’ <i lang="de">fiesel</i> is applied to the <i lang="la">membrum genitale masculi</i>; hence fiesel as synonymous with strength, <i>i.e.</i>, pertaining to the stronger sex. It was formerly used in connection with many other +words; <i>e.g.</i>, <i lang="de">mädchenfiesel</i>, ‘one who habitually runs after women,’ ‘a molrower,’ a ‘loose fish.’ <i lang="de">Fiesel</i>-language means the language of the strong, of those belonging to the fellowship of +thieves, burglars, and rowdies); <i lang="de">freikäufer</i> (a thief whose speciality it is to steal at fairs and markets); <i lang="de">freischupper</i> (a card sharper; a gambling cheat who carries on his business in crowded places of +public resort); <i lang="de">gacheler</i> (also <i lang="de">gachler</i>, <i lang="de">gackler</i>, <i lang="de">kachler</i>, <i lang="de">kakler</i>, <i lang="de">kegler</i>: a pantry thief; one who steals eatables and plate from kitchens whilst servants +are attending at table); <i lang="und">gannew</i> (from Hebrew <i lang="und">gonaw</i>, ‘to steal’); <i lang="de">gaslan</i> (from Hebrew <i lang="und">gosal</i>, ‘to rob’); <i lang="de">glitscher</i> (gypsy: <i>glitschin</i>, ‘the key<span>’</span>: a thief who works by means of skeleton keys); <i lang="und">godler chochem</i> (from Hebrew <i lang="und">godol</i>, great, strong, celebrated + Hebrew <i lang="und">chochem</i>, the wise one; hence, a clever rogue, a thief who thoroughly understands his business); +<i lang="und">goi gomur</i> (an utterly <span class="pageNum" id="pb69">[<a href="#pb69">69</a>]</span>unreliable confederate. <i lang="und">Goi</i>, plural <i lang="und">gojim</i> is applied to those not Jews, to Christians; in the plural, especially, in the sense +of ignorant people, suspicious or two-faced characters; also used as a synonym for +Philistine—a man of whom one has to be careful. <i lang="und">Goje</i> [<i>fem.</i>] is almost always used contemptuously for a female); <i lang="de">götte</i> (also <i lang="de">götti</i>, <i lang="de">göde</i>, <i lang="de">göttling</i> [O.H.G., <i lang="de">gataling</i>] a confederate, a relative—especially used to denote one who has been doing good +business); <i lang="de">gutenmorgenwünscher</i> (literally ‘good morning wisher’: thieves who break into rooms early in the morning +for purposes of robbery. The French have an analogous expression in <i lang="fr">bonjourier</i>, or <i lang="fr">voleur au bon jour</i>). For other synonyms, see <span class="sc">Thieves</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Italian Synonyms</span> (Fourbesque). <i lang="it">Quadro</i> (a cut-purse. In the Germania or Spanish argot, <i lang="es">quadro</i> is used in the sense of ‘a poignard,’ and <i lang="it">quadrata</i> in that of ‘purse.’ Possibly the Fourbesque <i lang="it">quadro</i> is derived from one of these words. In Italian it is literally ‘a square’ or ‘a rule’); +<i lang="it">granchetto</i> (also ‘one who speaks gibberish’); <i lang="it">lavorante di scarpe</i> (a pickpocket or cut-purse: lit. ‘working shoes’); <i lang="it">camuffo</i>; <i lang="it">fiadetto</i> (also ‘a dolt,’ ‘a duffer’); <i lang="it">carpione</i>; <i lang="it">truccante</i> (also ‘a beggar’). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Spanish Synonyms</span> (Germania). <i lang="es">Aquila</i> (a sharper: lit. ‘an eagle’); <i lang="es">bolador</i> (thought to be derived from the French <i lang="fr">voleur</i>); <i lang="es">comendadores de bola</i> (thieves who work principally at fairs and markets); <i lang="es">gerifalte</i> (lit. ‘a gerfalcon’—one of the ‘hawk’ species); <i lang="es">lince</i> (lit. ‘a lynx.’ This class of thief varies robbery with begging); <i lang="es">piloto</i> (a thief who directs others to the place of rendezvous, <i>i.e.</i>, where a robbery has been planned; lit. ‘a pilot’); <i lang="es">trabajar</i> (lit. ‘a traveller<span>’</span>).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Thieves</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Portuguese Synonyms</span> (<span id="xd33e10665">Calão</span>). <i lang="pt">Pai</i> (a captain of thieves—an Aaron or arch-cove); <i lang="pt">maguino</i> (a highwayman). +</p> +<p>For exhaustive and comparative description of all classes of thieves, both English +and foreign, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Thieves—their names and methods</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arf</b>, <i>adj.</i> (vulgarism).—Half; <i>e.g.</i>, ‘’arf an ’our,’ <i>i.e.</i>, half an hour. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">’Arf and ’arf.</span>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Four-half</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Argal.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Argol-bargol</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Argol-Bargol</b>, <i>subs.</i> and <i>verb.</i> (old).—<span class="sc">Argol</span>, sometimes <span class="sc">argal</span>, is a corrupt pronunciation of Latin <i lang="la">ergo</i>, therefore; hence, from that word being frequently used in conversation, a clumsy, +unsound piece of reasoning or cavilling; and verbally, to bandy words. Hotten says +<span class="sc">argol-bargol</span> is Scotch, but <span class="sc">argal</span> is found in <i>Hamlet</i>, v. i., and the fuller form is probably <span class="corr" id="xd33e10735" title="Source: onamatopoetic">onomatopoetic</span> like ‘shilly-shally,’ ‘hocus-pocus,’ etc., unless it comes from the Hebrew through +the Yiddish <i lang="und">bar-len</i> ‘to talk or speak’ [anyhow]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1596. <span class="sc">Shakspear</span>, <i>Hamlet</i> v. i., 21., <i>1st Clown.</i> Here lies the water; good: here stands the man; good: If the man go to this water, +it is, will he, nil he, he goes; mark you that: but if the water come to him, he drowns +not himself: <span class="sc">argal</span>, he that is not guilty of his own death, shortens not his own life. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb70">[<a href="#pb70">70</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1823. <span class="sc">J. Galt</span>, <i>The Entail</i>, i., 53. ‘Weel, weel,’ said the laird, ‘dinna let us <span class="sc">argol-bargol</span> about it; entail your own property as ye will, mine shall be on the second son.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <i>Times</i>, 23 Aug. Mr. Buckle’s argument [is] as absurd an <span class="sc">argal</span> as ever was invented by <span class="corr" id="xd33e10772" title="Source: philsopher">philosopher</span> or gravedigger. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Argol-Bargolous</b>, <i>adj.</i> (old).—Quarrelsome.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Argol-bargol</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">J. Galt</span>, <i>The Provost</i>, p. 194. No doubt his <span class="sc">argol-bargolous</span> disposition was an inheritance accumulated with his other conquest of wealth from +the mannerless Yankees. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Argufy</b>, <i>verb.</i> (vulgar).—A corrupted form of ‘to argue,’ usually associated with cavilling or a +bandying of words; also, ‘to signify’; <i>e.g.</i>, ‘It doesn’t much <span class="sc">argufy</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1758. <span class="sc">A. Murphy</span>, <i>The Upholsterer</i>, Act i. Well, it does not signify <span class="sc">argifying</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Lytton</span>, <i>Ernest Maltravers</i>, bk. IV., ch. vii. ‘Lord! how I should like to have you on the roadside instead of +within these four gimcrack walls. Ha! ha! the <span class="sc">argufying</span> would be all in <i>my</i> favour then.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aristippus</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A diet drink or decoction of sarsaparilla and other drugs, sold at the +coffee-houses, and drank as tea.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p>2. Also a cant name for canary wine. +</p> +<p class="cit">1627. (<i>circa</i>) <span class="sc">Middleton</span>, <i>Wks.</i> (Halliwell), II., 422. Rich <span class="sc">aristippus</span>, sparkling sherry. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arkansas Toothpick</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A grimly facetious name for a folding bowie knife of large dimensions. +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <span class="sc">Sir Theo. Martin</span> (with Prof. Aytoun), <i>Bon Gaultier Ballads</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">‘Straightway leaped the valiant Slingby </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Into armor of Seville, </p> +<p class="line">With a strong <span class="sc">Arkansas toothpick</span>, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Screwed in every joint of steel.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1881. <span class="sc">A. B. Greenleaf</span>, <i>Ten Years in Texas</i>, p. 27. All these (men) irrespective of age, size, or condition in life, could be +seen with a Navy six-shooter and an <span class="sc">Arkansas toothpick</span> suspended to a raw-hide belt tucked around their waists. Supplement the above equipment +with a sore-backed mustang pony, an old army saddle-tree and rope bridle, and you +have an exact picture and entire possession of the fifteenth constitutional amendment. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Detroit Free Press</i>, Aug. It is not good form to use a <span class="sc">toothpick</span> in <span class="sc">Arkansas</span> now. A big revolver is the thing in the best society. +</p> +<p>For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Chive</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ark-Floater</b>, <i>subs.</i> (theatrical).—An actor well advanced in years. [From an allusion to the proverbial +saying concerning anything ancient, ‘He, or it, must have come out of Noah’s <span class="sc">ark</span>,’ + <span class="sc">floats</span>, the footlights.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arkman</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A Thames waterman. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Ackman</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ark-Ruff</b>, or <b>Ark-Ruffian</b>.—The same as <span class="sc">ack-man</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Armour.</b> <span class="sc">To be in armour</span>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (old).—To be pot-valiant; ‘primed’; full of Dutch courage.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Screwed</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Armpits.</b> <span class="sc">To work under the armpits</span>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (old).—To sail so far to the windward of the law in petty larceny, that, if caught +and tried, the punishment would not amount to more than transportation. On the passing +of Sir Samuel Romilly’s Act, capital punishment was abolished for highway robberies +under 40s. in value. Hence, formerly, <span class="sc">to work under the armpits</span> was to avoid the halter <span class="pageNum" id="pb71">[<a href="#pb71">71</a>]</span>or <span class="sc">neck-squeezer</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), which is applied <i>above</i> the armpits. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arm-Props</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Crutches; otherwise <span class="sc">wooden legs</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1825. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act ii., Scene 6. <i>Beggar</i>: You did quite right; vell, vile I can get fifteen bob a day by gammoning a maim, +the devil may vork for me. If any lady or gemman is inclined for a dance, I’ll nash +my <span class="sc">arm-props</span> in a minute. +</p> +<p class="right">(<i>Throws down his crutches.</i>) +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arms and Legs</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (common).—Poor, weak beer, because there is no body in it!—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Swipes</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Armstrong.</b> <span class="sc">To come Captain Armstrong.</span>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Captain Armstrong</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arrow</b> (vulgarism).—A corruption of ‘e’er, a,’ or ‘ever a.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1750. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, bk. V., ch. viii. ‘I don’t believe there is <span class="sc">arrow</span> a servant in the house ever saw the colour of his money.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1771. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Humphrey Clinker</i>, i., 126. ‘I now carries my head higher than <span class="sc">arrow</span> private gentlewoman of Vales.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>’Arry</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The Christian name Harry without the aspirate. A popular embodiment of +the vulgar, rollicking, yet on the whole good-tempered ‘rough’ of the great metropolis. +His ‘get-up’ is, as he would himself put it, ‘immense’; he is seen to most advantage—his +own—on Sundays and bank holidays; his ‘young woman’—generally <span id="xd33e11057">‘</span>’Arriet’—is <i>en suite</i>; taken altogether he is a lively, jovial, but ill-bred ‘cuss.’ <i>Mr. Punch</i> in an inimitable series of sketches has ‘hit off’ his man ‘to a T.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Millikin</span>, <i>Punch’s Almanac</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter"> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">January!</span> Tailor’s bill comes in. </p> +<p class="line">Blow that blooming snip! I’m short of tin. </p> +<p class="line">Werry much enjoyed my autumn Caper, </p> +<p class="line">But three quid fifteen do look queer paper. </p> +<p class="line">Want another new rig out, wuss luck, </p> +<p class="line">Gurl at Boodle’s bar seems awful struck. </p> +<p class="line">Like to take her to pantermime; </p> +<p class="line">That and oysters after <i>would</i> be prime. </p> +<p class="line">Fan’s a screamer; this top coat would blue it, </p> +<p class="line">Yaller at the seams, black ink wont do it. </p> +<p class="line">Wonder if old snip would spring another? </p> +<p class="line">Boots, too<span id="xd33e11092">,</span> rayther seedy; beastly bother! </p> +<p class="line">Lots o’ larks that empty pockets ‘queer.’ </p> +<p class="line">Can’t do much on fifty quid a year. </p> +</div> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">Febrywary!</span> High old time for sprees! </p> +<p class="line">Now’s yer chance the gals to please or tease. </p> +<p class="line">Dowds to guy and pooty ones’ to wheedle, </p> +<p class="line">And give all rival chaps the needle. </p> +<p class="line">Crab your enemies,—I’ve got a many, </p> +<p class="line">You can pot ’em proper for a penny. </p> +<p class="line">My! them walentines do ’it ’em ’ot. </p> +<p class="line">First-rate fun: I always buy a lot. </p> +<p class="line">Prigs complain they’re spiteful, lor’ wot stuff! </p> +<p class="line">I can’t ever get ’em strong enough. </p> +<p class="line">Safe too; no one twigs your little spree, </p> +<p class="line">If you do it on the strict Q.T. </p> +<p class="line">If you’re spoons, a flowery one’s your plan, </p> +<p class="line">Mem. I sent a proper one to Fan. </p> +</div> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">March!</span> I’m nuts upon a windy day, </p> +<p class="line">Gurls do get in such a awful way. </p> +<p class="line">Petticoats yer know, and pooty feet; </p> +<p class="line">Hair all flying,—tell you it’s a treat. </p> +<p class="line">Pancake day. Don’t like ’em—flabby, tough, </p> +<p class="line">Rayther do a pennorth o’ plum-duff. </p> +<p class="line">Seediness shows up as Spring advances, </p> +<p class="line">Ah! the gurls do lead us pretty dances. </p> +<p class="line">Days a-lengthening, think I spotted Fan </p> +<p class="line">Casting sheep’s eyes at another man. </p> +<p class="line">Quarter-day, too, no more chance of tick, </p> +<p class="line">Fancy I shall ’ave to cut my stick. </p> +<p class="line">Got the doldrums dreadful, that is clear, </p> +<p class="line">Two <i>d</i> left!—must go and do a beer! </p> +</div> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">April!</span> All Fools’ Day’s a proper time, </p> +<p class="line">Cop old gurls and guy old buffers prime. </p> +<p class="line">Scissors! don’t they goggle and look blue, </p> +<p class="line">When you land them with a regular ‘do?’ </p> +<p class="line">Lor! the world would not be worth a mivvey, </p> +<p class="line">If there warn’t no fools to cheek and chivy. </p> +<p class="line">Then comes Easter. Got some coin in ’and, </p> +<p class="line">Trot a bonnet out and do the grand. </p> +<p class="line">Fan all flounce and flower; fellows mad, <span class="pageNum" id="pb72">[<a href="#pb72">72</a>]</span></p> +<p class="line">Heye us henvious; nuts to me, my lad. </p> +<p class="line">’Ampstead! ’Ampton! Which is it to be? </p> +<p class="line">Fan—no flat—prefers the Crystal P. </p> +<p class="line">Nobby togs, high jinks, and lots o’ lotion, </p> +<p class="line">That’s the style to go it, I’ve a notion! </p> +</div> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">May!</span> The month o’ flowers. Spooney sell! </p> +<p class="line">‘Rum ’ot with,’ is wot <i>I</i> likes to smell. </p> +<p class="line">Beats yer roses holler. A chice weed, </p> +<p class="line">Licks all flowers that ever run to seed. </p> +<p class="line">Nobby button ’oler very well, </p> +<p class="line">When one wants to do the ’eavy swell; </p> +<p class="line">Otherwise don’t care not one brass farden, </p> +<p class="line">For the best ever blowed in Covent Garden. </p> +<p class="line">Fan, though, likes ’em, costs a pretty pile, </p> +<p class="line">Rayther stiff, a tanner for a smile. </p> +<p class="line">Blued ten bob last time I took ’er out, </p> +<p class="line">Left my silver ticker up the spout. </p> +<p class="line">Women are sech sharks! If I don’t drop ’er, </p> +<p class="line">Guess that I shall come a hawful cropper! </p> +</div> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">June!</span> A jolly month; sech stunning weather! </p> +<p class="line">Fan and I have lots of outs together: </p> +<p class="line">Rorty on the river, sech prime ’unts, </p> +<p class="line">Foul the racers, run into the punts. </p> +<p class="line">Prime to ’ear the anglers rave and cuss, </p> +<p class="line">When in quiet ‘swims’ we raise a muss. </p> +<p class="line">Snack on someone’s lawn upon the quiet, </p> +<p class="line">Won’t the owner raise a tidy riot </p> +<p class="line">When he twigs our scraps and broken bottles? </p> +<p class="line">Cheaper this than rusty-rongs or hottles. </p> +<p class="line">Whitsuntide ’ud be a lot more gay </p> +<p class="line">If it warn’t so near to Quarter-day. </p> +<p class="line">Snip turns sour, pulls ‘county-courting’ faces, </p> +<p class="line">Must try and land a little on the races. </p> +</div> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line">At <span class="sc">July</span>! just nicked a handy fiver, </p> +<p class="line">(Twenty-five to one on old ‘Screw-driver’!<span class="corr" id="xd33e11208" title="Not in source">)</span> </p> +<p class="line">New rig-out. This mustard colour mixture </p> +<p class="line">Suits me nobly. Fan appears a fixture. </p> +<p class="line">Gurls like style, you know, and colour ketches ’em, </p> +<p class="line">But good show of ochre,—that’s what fetches ’em. </p> +<p class="line">Wimbledon! <i>I’m</i> not a wolunteer, </p> +<p class="line">Discipline don’t suit this child—no fear! </p> +<p class="line">But we ’ave fine capers at the camp, </p> +<p class="line">Proper, but for that confounded scamp: </p> +<p class="line">Punched my ’ead, because I guyed his shooting. </p> +<p class="line">Fan I fancied rather ’igh faluting; </p> +<p class="line">Ogled the big beggar as he propped me, </p> +<p class="line">Would ’a licked ’im if <i>she</i> ’adn’t stopped me. </p> +</div> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">August!</span> Time to think about my outing. </p> +<p class="line">No dibs yet, though, so it’s no use shouting. </p> +<p class="line">Make the best of the Bank ’Oliday. </p> +<p class="line">Fan ‘engaged’! Don’t look too bloomin’ gay. </p> +<p class="line">Drop into the bar to do a beer. </p> +<p class="line">Twig her talking to that volunteer. </p> +<p class="line">Sling my ’ook instanter sharp and short, </p> +<p class="line">Took Jemimer down to ’Ampton Court, </p> +<p class="line">Not <span>’</span>arf bad that gurl. Got rather screwed, </p> +<p class="line">Little toff complained as I was rude. </p> +<p class="line">’It ’im in the wind, he went like death; </p> +<p class="line">Weak, consumptive cove and short o’ breath. </p> +<p class="line">Licked ’im proper, dropped ’im like a shot’— </p> +<p class="line">Only wish that Fan had seen <i>that</i> lot. </p> +</div> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line">’Ere’s <span class="sc">September</span>! ’Oliday at last! </p> +<p class="line">Off to Margit—mean to go it fast. </p> +<p class="line">Mustard-coloured togs still fresh as paint, </p> +<p class="line">Like to know who’s natty, if <i>I</i> ain’t. </p> +<p class="line">Got three quid; have cried a go with Fan, </p> +<p class="line">Game to spend my money like a man. </p> +<p class="line">But stickin’ tight to one gal ain’t no fun,— </p> +<p class="line">Here’s no end of prime ’uns on the run </p> +<p class="line">Carn’t resist me somehow, togs and tile </p> +<p class="line">All A1—make even swell ones smile. </p> +<p class="line">Lor! if I’d the ochre, make no doubt </p> +<p class="line">I could cut no end of big pots out. </p> +<p class="line">Call me cad? When money’s in the game, </p> +<p class="line">Cad and swell are pooty much the same. </p> +</div> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line">Now <span class="sc">October</span>! Back again to collar, </p> +<p class="line">Funds run low, reduced to last ’arf dollar. </p> +<p class="line">Snip on rampage, boots a getting thin, </p> +<p class="line">’Ave to try the turf to raise some tin. </p> +<p class="line">Evenings getting gloomy; high old games; </p> +<p class="line">Music ’alls look up the taking names. </p> +<p class="line">Proper swells them pros! If I’d had my choice, </p> +<p class="line">There’s <i>my</i> mark. Just wish I’d got a voice; </p> +<p class="line">Cut the old den to-morrow, lots o’cham, </p> +<p class="line">Cabs and diamonds—ain’t that real jam? </p> +<p class="line">Got the straight tip for the Siezerwitch, </p> +<p class="line">If I <i>honly</i> land it, I’ll be rich. </p> +<p class="line">Guess next mornin’ wouldn’t find me sober— </p> +<p class="line">Allays get the blues about October. </p> +</div> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line">Dull <span class="sc">November</span>! Didn’t land that lot. </p> +<p class="line">Fear my father’s son is going to pot. </p> +<p class="line">Fan jest passed me, turned away ’er eyes, </p> +<p class="line">Guess she ranked me with the <i>other</i> guys. </p> +<p class="line">Nobby larks upon the Ninth, my joker </p> +<p class="line">But it queers a chap to want the ochre. <span class="pageNum" id="pb73">[<a href="#pb73">73</a>]</span></p> +<p class="line">Nothing like a crowd for regular sprees, </p> +<p class="line">Ain’t it fine to do a rush, and squeeze? </p> +<p class="line">Twig the women fainting! oh, it’s proper! </p> +<p class="line">Bonnet buffers when the blooming copper </p> +<p class="line">Can’t get near yer nohow. Then the fogs! </p> +<p class="line">Rare old time for regular jolly dogs. </p> +<p class="line">If a chap’s a genuine ’ot member, </p> +<p class="line">He <i>can</i> keep the game up in November! </p> +</div> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line">Dun <span class="sc">December</span>! Dismal, dingy, dirty. </p> +<p class="line">Still short commons—makes a chap feel shirty. </p> +<p class="line">Snip rampageous, drops a regular summons. </p> +<p class="line">Fan gets married; ah! them gurls is rum ’uns! </p> +<p class="line">After all the coin I squandered on ’er! </p> +<p class="line">Want it now. A ’eap too bad, ’pon honour. </p> +<p class="line">Snow! ah, that’s yer sort though, and no error, </p> +<p class="line">Treat to twig the women scud in terror. </p> +<p class="line">Hot ’un in the eye for that old feller; </p> +<p class="line">Cold ’un down ’is neck, burst his umbreller. </p> +<p class="line">Ha! ha! then Christmas,—’ave a jolly feast! </p> +<p class="line">The Boss will drop a tip,—’ope so, at least. </p> +<p class="line">If I don’t land some tin, my look-out’s queer. </p> +<p class="line">Well, let’s drink, boys—‘Better luck next year!’ </p> +</div> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Arse</b>, <i>subs.</i> (low).—The posterior; the breech; the fundament. Once in polite use, but now considered +very vulgar. As Grose in his <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i> [1785] prints the word thus, ‘a—e,’ it is evident that it had then fallen into disfavour. +Murray traces the word back to about <span class="asc">A.D.</span> 1000. [A.S., <i lang="ang">ears</i>, <i lang="ang">œurs</i>; Icelandic and Swedish, <i lang="sv">ars</i>; Danish, <i lang="da">arts</i>, and German, <i lang="de">arsch</i>]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1000 (<i>circa</i>). <span class="sc">Ælfric</span>, <i>Glossary</i> in Wright, 44·2 [<i>Nates</i>, <span class="sc">ears</span>-lye]. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1480. <span class="sc">Caxton</span>, <i>Chronicles of England</i>, ccxxvi., 233. They lete hange fox tailles … to hele and hyde her <span class="sc">arses</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1663. <span class="sc">Butler</span>, <i>Hudibras</i> I., iii., 964. Then mounted both upon their Horses, But with their Faces to the <span class="sc">arses</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1704. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Battle of the Books</i> (1711), 235. Do you think I have nothing else to do but to mend and repair after +your <span class="sc">arse</span> [<i>i.e.</i>, behind you, in your rear]. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Heavy-arse</span>, a hulking, lazy fellow; a sluggard. +</p> +<p class="cit">1530. <span class="sc">Palsgrave</span>, 436, 2. What up, <span class="sc">heavy-arse</span>, cannest thou nat aryse? [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To hang the arse</span>, to hang or hold back; to be afraid to advance. +</p> +<p class="cit">1633. <span class="sc">Massinger</span>, <i>Guardian</i>, V., v. Nay, no <span class="sc">hanging an arse</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Arse-upwards</span> in good luck. +</p> +<p class="cit">1600 (<i>circa</i>). Timon I., 5 (1842), 20. This man this daye rose with his <span class="sc">arse upwards</span>: To daye a fidler, and at night a noble. +</p> +<p>Also such forms as <span class="sc">arse-board</span>, the tail board of a cart—this is still dialectical; <span class="sc">arse-gut</span>, the rectum; <span class="sc">arse-long</span>; <span class="sc">arse-push</span>, a heavy backward fall; <span class="sc">arse-ropes</span>, the intestines. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arse-Cooler</b>, <i>subs.</i> (low).—A bustle or dress-improver. [From <span class="sc">arse</span>, <i>see</i> preceding + <span class="sc">cooler</span>; in reference to the manner in which this article of feminine attire extends the +dress, and prevents it clinging to the part of the body referred to.] +</p> +<p>For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Bird-cage</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ars-Musica</b>, <i>subs.</i> (low).—The <i>podex</i> when used as a noisy vent.—A play upon words. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arst</b> (vulgarism).—A mispronunciation of ‘asked.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arsy-Varsy</b> or <b>Arsy-Versy</b>, <i>adv.</i> and <i>adj.</i> (low).—Topsy-turvy; topside t’other way; heels over head; or ‘the cart before the +horse.’ [From <span class="sc">arse</span> + Latin <i lang="la">versus</i> ‘to turn,’ following model <span class="corr" id="xd33e11545" title="Source: onamatopoetic">onomatopoetic</span> compounds like ‘hirdie-girdie,’ ‘higgledy-piggledy,’ etc.] Once in polite use, but +now confined to the low and vulgar. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb74">[<a href="#pb74">74</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1539. <span class="sc">Taverner</span>, <i>Erasm. Prov.</i> (1552), 62. Ye set the cart before the horse … cleane contrarily, and <span class="sc">arsy-versy</span> as they say. +</p> +<p class="cit">1728. <span class="sc">Bailey</span>, <i>Dictionary</i>. <span class="sc">Arsy-versey</span>, topsy-turvy, preposterously, perversely, without order. +</p> +<p>Still dialectical. <i>See</i> English Dialect Society’s Glossaries, <i>e<span>.</span>g.</i>, <i>West Somerset Word Book</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arter</b> (vulgarism).—An incorrect pronunciation of ‘after.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Artesian</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Australian).—In Gippsland, Victoria, a well-known and popular brew of beer is manufactured +with water obtained from an artesian well at Sale—and hence <span class="sc">artesian</span> as a common nickname for all Colonial beer.—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Cascade</span>. +</p> +<p>English synonyms for beer will be found under <span class="sc">Swipes</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Artful Dodger</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming and thieves’ slang).—1. A lodger. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>New York Slang Dictionary.</i> <span class="sc">Artful dodgers</span>, fellows who dare not sleep twice in the same place for fear of arrest. +</p> +<p>2. An expert thief. The <span class="sc">artful dodger</span> in Dickens’ ‘Oliver Twist’ will occur to mind in this connection. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Arthur.</b> <span class="sc">King Arthur</span> (old).—A sailor’s game, thus described, in effect, by Grose. When near the line, +or in a hot latitude, a man who is to represent King Arthur, is ridiculously dressed, +having a large wig made out of oakum, or some old swabs. He is seated on the side, +or over a large vessel of water, and every person in turn is ceremoniously introduced +to him, and has to pour a bucket of water over him, crying out, ‘Hail, King Arthur!’ +If during the ceremony the person introduced laughs or smiles (to which his majesty +endeavours to excite him by all sorts of ridiculous gesticulations), he changes places +with, and then becomes King Arthur, till relieved by some brother tar who has as little +command over his muscles as himself.—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Ambassador</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Artichoke</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—An aged prostitute of the lowest type. For general synonyms, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack hack</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Article</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. A term of contempt for a worthless or insignificant person or animal—‘A +pretty <span class="sc">article</span> he is.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1843. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Martin Chuzzlewit</i>, ch. xxvi., p. 268. You’re a nice <span class="sc">article</span>, to turn sulky on first coming home! +</p> +<p>2. A woman. In this sense generally current at the beginning of the century—‘a prime +<span class="sc">article</span>,’ a handsome girl, or, as the <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum</i> [1811] has it, ‘a hell of a goer.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">A. Trollope</span>, <i>Three Clerks</i>, ch. xxxi. ‘She’d never have done for you, you know; and she’s the very <span class="sc">article</span> for such a man as Peppermint.’ +</p> +<p><i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Sappy</span> for English and foreign synonyms. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Articles</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A suit of clothes. Formerly current in England [<i>circa</i> 1780–1825]; now surviving principally amongst American thieves. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Articles of Virtue</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (popular).—Virgins. A play upon the word ‘virtue,’ in <span class="pageNum" id="pb75">[<a href="#pb75">75</a>]</span>allusion to the absence of defloration; and also upon <i>vertu</i> in its special English usage. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Artist</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—An adroit rogue; a skilful gamester.—<i>N.Y.S.D.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>As … as They Make ’Em</b>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—Generally employed with such adjectives as ‘hot,’ ‘drunk,’ ‘bad,’ etc.; +<i>e.g.</i>, <span class="sc">as bad as they make ’em</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Bird o’ Freedom</i>, Aug. 17, p. 3. On reaching the party it was evident that one of the Frenchmen was, +not to put too fine a point on it, about <span class="sc">as drunk as they make ’em</span>. He opened the campaign by asking us to have a drink with him. Of course, he spoke +in French. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Asia Minor</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—The Kensington and Bayswater districts in London, on account of the many +Anglo-Indians who, on their retirement, take refuge therein. The nickname, however, +is a double-barrelled one, inasmuch as this quarter is also the headquarters of the +Greek community in the metropolis. Sobriquets of the kind are not infrequent. The +district between Maida Vale and St. Peter’s Park, Paddington, is called ‘the New Jerusalem,’ +because of the large number of Jews who live there; and the same reason has given +an exactly identical appellation to Brighton, while Cheltenham is nicknamed ‘the Black +Hole’ from its numerous Anglo-Indian residents. +</p> +<p>A sketch appeared under the title of ‘The Ladies in Parliament’ in <i>Macmillan’s Magazine</i> [Nov., 1866], wherein Tyburnia was described as ‘the pension’d Indian’s undisturbed +retreat.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Daily News</i>, 9 Feb., p. 2, col. 5. The Ladbroke Hall, Notting-hill … is in the centre of a district +where Indians in the British metropolis mostly congregate, a circumstance which has +acquired for this part of London the nickname of <span class="sc">Asia Minor</span>, by which it is sometimes called. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ask Bogy!</b> <i>phr.</i> (old nautical slang).—An evasive reply. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Askew</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—A cuppe.—<i>Harman</i> [1567]. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Asquirm.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Squirm</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <span class="sc">W. D. Howells</span>, <i>Venetian Life</i>, ch. xviii. It is wet and slimy underfoot, and the innumerable gigantic eels, writhing +everywhere, set the soul <span class="sc">asquirm</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ass</b>, <i>subs.</i> (printers’).—A compositor, so nicknamed by pressmen, who, in turn, are called <span class="sc">pigs</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). Ass is sometimes varied by <span class="sc">donkey</span>. In French printing offices compositors are called <i lang="fr">mulets</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘mules.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Assay It!</b> <i>intj.</i> (American thieves’).—Commence! try it! Obviously from the verb ‘to assay,’ and probably +introduced by counterfeit coiners. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Assig.</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—An assignation.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aste</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—Nares quotes this as an old cant term for money. For modern synonyms, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Actual</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1612. <i>The Passenger of Benvenuto.</i> These companions, who in the phisionomie of their forehead, eyes, and nose, carry +the impression and marke of the pillerie galley, and of the halter, they call the +purse a leafe, and a fleece; money, cuckoes, and <span class="sc">aste</span>, and crowns. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Astronomer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A horse which carries its head high. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb76">[<a href="#pb76">76</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Athanasian Wench</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A forward, abandoned woman, of obliging disposition—one who practises prostitution +from libidinous desire rather than for gain. Also <span class="sc">Quicunque vult</span>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack hack</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Atlantic-Ranger</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A herring. The derivation is too obvious to need particularization. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Good Words</i>, p. 378. Peas-pudding, and hard-boiled eggs, rubbing shoulders, as it were, with +<span class="sc">Atlantic rangers</span> (<i>i.e.</i>, red herrings). +</p> +<p>Among other curious synonyms for this fish may be mentioned <span class="sc">Billingsgate pheasant</span>; <span class="sc">two-eyed steak</span>; <span class="sc">Yarmouth capon</span>; <span class="sc">sea rover</span>; and <span class="sc">Glasgow magistrate</span>, all of which <i>see</i>. A very common request at Lockhart’s coffee-houses in London is for ‘a door step +and a sea rover,’ <i>i.e.</i>, a halfpenny slice of bread and butter and a herring. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Atmosphere</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—By the <span class="sc">atmosphere</span> of a thing, whether book, church, or individual, is meant its tone or influence. +<span class="sc">Atmosphere</span> is one of the most recent introductions into the canting-slang phraseology of ‘Culchaw, +don’t you know!’ It belongs to the same category as that which employs <i>awfully</i> and <i>dreadfully</i> for ‘very’; or <i>lovely</i> for anything pleasing, etc. The number of legitimate words perverted from their legitimate +meanings and used in senses oftentimes ludicrous is much larger than most people would +care to admit. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Atomy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—1. A diminutive, or deformed person. [From a jocular pronunciation of +‘anatomy.’] As will be seen from the historical examples which follow, this expression +has been in the mouths of the English people for at least 300 years. +</p> +<p class="cit">1595. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>, iv., i., 57. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">… I see, Queen Mab hath been with you. </p> +<p class="line">She is the fairies’ midwife; and she comes </p> +<p class="line">In shape no bigger than an agate-stone </p> +<p class="line">On the forefinger of an alderman, </p> +<p class="line">Drawn with a team of little <span class="sc">atomies</span>, </p> +<p class="line">Athwart men’s noses as they fall asleep. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1598. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, 2 <i>Henry IV.</i>, v., 4, 33. <i>Host.</i> Thou <span class="sc">atomy</span>, thou! +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Dot.</i> Come, you thin thing, come, you rascal. +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>The Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. iii. ‘He was an <span class="sc">atomy</span> when he came up from the North, and I am sure he died … at twenty stone weight.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <span class="sc">Sala</span>, <i>Gaslight and Daylight</i>, ch. ix. A miserable little <span class="sc">atomy</span>, more deformed, more diminutive, more mutilated than any beggar in a bowl. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Cornhill Magazine</i>, May, p. 478. ‘And <span class="sc">atomy</span> scarecrow and <span class="sc">atomy</span>, what next will you call me? Yet you want to marry me!<span>’</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Mohawks</i>, ch. xxii. ‘How lovely his young wife looks to-night; lovely enough to keep that +poor old <span class="sc">atomy</span> in perpetual torment.’ +</p> +<p>2. (American thieves’).—Amongst the fraternity <span class="sc">atomy</span> has the special meaning of an empty-headed person, and not necessarily one deformed +or of small, mean stature. +</p> +<p>For synonyms, in first sense, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Sappy</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Attack</b>, <i>verb.</i> (common).—A jocular rendering of the legitimate word; to commence operations, not +necessarily, however, with the idea of force, which is always associated with the +proper usage. Also as a <i>subs.</i> +<span class="pageNum" id="pb77">[<a href="#pb77">77</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">Combe</span> (Dr. Syntax), <i>Pictur.</i> xvii., 62. The Doctor then … pronounced the grace … The fierce <span class="sc">attack</span> was soon begun. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Pendennis</i>, ch. i. It was a double letter, and the Major commenced perusing the envelope before +he <span class="sc">attacked</span> the inner epistle. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>At That</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (American and Australian).—An intensitive phrase tacked on to the end of an assertion +or statement already made. ‘He’s a slick ’cute rascal, and a pretty demon <span class="sc">at that</span>,’ <i>i.e.</i>, he is a rascal of rascals, an adept at villainy. It is a purely cant phrase, and +has achieved a degree of popularity quite out of proportion to its merits—if any. +Proctor suggests that the expression is an abbreviation of ‘added to that,’ but others +regard it as the German <i lang="de">dazu</i>, a theory which is not improbable, in view of the large German element in the States. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">Pinkerton’s</span> <i>Mollie Maguires and Detectives</i>. A miner from Wadesville, was spoken of as an ancient Mollie—Cooney being actually +what the detective assumed to be, and a sharp one <span class="sc">at that</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Forest and Stream</i>, March 15. Worth a year’s subscription, and cheap <span class="sc">at that</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>New York Herald</i>, July 22. Who would have supposed that the self-contained Mr. French, the icily regular +T. Henry French, with a disposition as undemonstrative as the Alpine edelweiss, would +suffer his temper to go away because of the loss of a hat—aye, and of an old hat <span class="sc">at that</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Attic</b> or <b>Attic-Storey</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The head, from its being the highest or crowning member, the body being +figuratively regarded as a house. Sometimes <span class="sc">upper-storey</span>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Crumpet</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Alford</span>, in <i>Life</i> (1873), 467. Tolerably well all day, but the noise in the <span class="sc">attic</span> unremoved<span>.</span> +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Queer in the attic</span>, etc. Drunk; also weak-minded, or ‘cracked.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Attic-Salt</b>, <i>subs.</i> (literary).—Well-turned phrases spiced with wit and humour. A reference to the peculiar +style and idiom of the Greek language as used by the Athenians, and, says Hotten, +‘partly a sly hit at the well-known poverty of many writers.’ Whether so, or not, +the phrase is one of long standing. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.) In <i>Philology</i>, we say <span class="sc">attic-salt</span>, for a delicate, poignant kind of wit and humour after the <i>Athenian</i> manner, who were particular in this way. +</p> +<p class="cit">1779. <span class="sc">Sheridan</span>, <i>The Critic</i>, Act i., Sc. 2. I have the plot from the author, and only add—characters strongly +drawn—highly coloured—hand of a master—fund of genuine humour—mine of invention—neat +dialogue—<span class="sc">attic-salt</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">Jas. Hannay</span>, <i>King Dobbs</i>, ch. ix., p. 129 (1856). ‘If you joke in that style, we’ll lose the day,’ said Dobbs<span id="xd33e12146">,</span> who had some quiet homely superstitions. ‘What? is it unlucky to spill <span class="sc">attic-salt</span>, as well as the ordinary kind?’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Attleborough</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—Sham jewelry; used in precisely the same manner as ‘Brummagem,’ and as +widely applied to men and things. It has passed from the classics of thiefdom into +general use, and is applied to anything of a sham, pinchbeck, insincere, or doubtful +character. Attleborough is a town celebrated for its manufacture of trashy jewelry. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Attorney</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A drumstick of goose, or turkey, grilled and devilled. [From <span class="pageNum" id="pb78">[<a href="#pb78">78</a>]</span><span class="sc">devil</span> = a lawyer who does routine work for another = attorney.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1828. <span class="sc">G. Griffin</span>, <i>Collegians</i>, ch. xiii. ‘I love a plain beef steak before a grilled <span class="sc">attorney</span>.’ +</p> +<p>(Thieves’).—A shrewd, and often not over honest or scrupulous man who, possessing +some knowledge of the law, acts in the capacity of legal adviser to those of the ‘crooked +craft’ unfortunate enough to need assistance. Such men are generally solicitors and +others whose names have been struck off the rolls, as also, occasionally, solicitors’ +clerks who have otherwise failed in life. Their practices are shady, but their fees +are low. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Attorney-General’s Devil.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Devil</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Auctioneer.</b> <span class="sc">To tip</span> or <span class="sc">give the auctioneer</span>.—A phrase borrowed from the sale room, and signifying ‘to knock a man down.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <span class="sc">G. A. Sala</span>, <i>Breakfast in Bed</i>, Essay I., p. 4 (1864). And who, in return for a craven blow, can <span class="sc">deliver the auctioneer</span> well over the face and eyes. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Audit-Ale</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Cambridge Univ.).—A special brew of ale, peculiar to Trinity College, made in the +first instance for draught on audit days, whence its name. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>Ingoldsby Legends</i> (Lay of S. Dunstan). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line xd33e5088">To be sure the best beer </p> +<p class="line xd33e5088">Of all did not appear, </p> +<p class="line">For I’ve said ’twas in June, and so late in the year </p> +<p class="line">The ‘Trinity <span class="sc">audit ale</span>’ is not come-at-able, </p> +<p class="line">As I’ve found to my great grief when dining at that table. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1876. <span class="sc">Trevelyan</span>, <i>Life of Macaulay</i> (1884), ch. iv., p. 127. A glass of the <span class="sc">audit ale</span>, which reminded him that he was still a fellow of Trinity. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Audley.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">John Audley</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aufe.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Oaf</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Auger</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—A person given to prosiness is so called; a bore. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aught</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vulgarism).—A common illiteracy for ‘naught’ when naming the cipher—‘o’. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Auld Hornie</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—One of the numerous nicknames given to the devil. Others are, old nick; +old scratch; old Harry; skipper; old gentleman; deuce; dickens; ruffian, etc.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Skipper</span> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Auld Reekie</b> (popular).—A sobriquet for the old town of Edinburgh. It means ‘old smoky.’ Of late +years it has been applied to the whole city. +</p> +<p class="cit">1806. <span class="sc">Miss Pitman</span>, in C. K. Sharpe’s <i>Correspondence</i> (1888), i., 271. We are within two hours-and-a-half of <span class="sc">Auld Reeky</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1816. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Antiquary</i>, ch. vi. ‘And what news do you bring us from Edinburgh, <span class="corr" id="xd33e12306" title="Source: Montkbarns">Monkbarns</span>?’ said Sir Arthur; ‘how wags the world in <span class="sc">Auld Reekie</span>?’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Colonies and India</i>, July 24, p. 10, col. 1. The Australasian Colony in <span class="sc">Auld Reekie</span> is prospering apace, and it may soon be necessary to plant some gum trees along Princes +Street to meet the growing demands of the population. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Auly-Auly</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Win. Coll.).—A game formerly played in ‘Grass Court’ on Saturday afternoons after +chapel. It consisted in throwing an india-rubber ball at one another, and <span class="pageNum" id="pb79">[<a href="#pb79">79</a>]</span>everybody was obliged to go down and join in it. ‘Haul ye, call ye,’ is the supposed +derivation; but, as the game, though in vogue in 1830, was not played as late as 1845, +there is some difficulty in defining it in detail. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aunt</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Applied, especially during the Elizabethan period, to either a procuress, +a prostitute, or a concubine. It survived till the commencement of the present century +and then gradually died out. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Mother</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1608. <span class="sc">Middleton</span>, <i>Trick to Catch the Old One</i>, II., i. Was it not then better bestowed upon his uncle than upon one of his <span class="sc">aunts</span>?—I need not say bawd, for everyone knows what <span class="sc">aunt</span> stands for in the last translation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1623. <span class="sc">Shakspear</span>, <i>Winter’s Tale</i>, iv., 3. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Summer songs for me and my aunts, </p> +<p class="line">While we lie tumbling in the hay. </p> +</div> +<p class="first"><span class="sc">To go and see one’s aunt</span> (common).—To go to the W.C.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Mrs. Jones</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Aunt Sally</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—A well-known game, common to race-courses and fairs, which consists in +throwing short staves at a wooden head mounted on a stick, placed upright in the ground, +and forming a kind of target. In the mouth of the image is placed a clay pipe, and +the object of the player, who stands at say twenty or thirty yards distance, is to +demolish this. The amusement is not unlike the more popular ‘three shies a penny.’ +The origin of <span class="sc">Aunt Sally</span> is wrapped in mystery; nor is it known whether she is any relation to the black lady +whose effigy some few years since was frequently to be met with suspended outside +the shops of rag and ‘marine store’ dealers. A writer in <i>Notes and Queries</i> [2 S., x., 117] affirms that <span class="sc">Aunt Sally</span> is the heroine of a popular negro melody, in which the old lady meets with several +ludicrous adventures, but evidence in support of this theory is at present wanting. +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <span class="sc">G. A. Sala</span>, <i>Gaslight and Daylight</i>, ch. i., p. 11. They will go to Epsom by the rail, and create disturbances on the +course, and among the ‘sticks’ and <span class="sc">aunt sallies</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Punch</i>, June 2, p. 264, col. 1. The average number of ‘chucks’ at cocoa-nuts before achieving +success is six, and of ‘shies’ at <span class="sc">aunt sally</span>, four. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Au Reservoir!</b> <i>intj. phr.</i> (common).—<i lang="fr">Au revoir.</i> A mere play upon sounds. Common in America, where it originated, and now often heard +in England. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Australian Flag</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Anglo-Australian).—The tail of a shirt, when, after exertion, it rucks up in folds +between the trousers and the waistcoat—an ‘up-country’ phrase.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Cornstalk</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Australian Grip</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Australian).—A hearty shake of the hands. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Autem</b>, <b>Autum</b>, <b>Autom</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—A church. The term first appears in Harman’s <i>Caveat</i> [1573]; again in Rowland’s <i>Martin Mark-all</i> [1610]; in Head’s <i>English Rogue</i> [1665]; in Cole’s <i>English Dictionary</i> [1724]; in Grose’s <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i> [1785], and in Duncombe’s <i>Sinks of London Laid Open</i> [1848].—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Autem mort</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i>—Married. So quoted in <span class="pageNum" id="pb80">[<a href="#pb80">80</a>]</span>Cole’s <i>English Dictionary</i>, whence <span class="sc">autem mort</span>, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Autem-Bawler</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—A parson. [From <span class="sc">autem</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), a church + <span class="sc">bawler</span>, a speaker.] For modern English and foreign synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Gospel shark</span>. Other ancient expressions for a clergyman are <span class="sc">autem-jet</span>, <span class="sc">autem-cackler</span>, and <span class="sc">autem-pricker</span>; the last two named, however, apply, as a rule, only to Dissenters. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Autem-Cackler</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—A Dissenter; sometimes specially applied to Dissenting ministers. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 260. ‘On one occasion a Jew was selling cocoa-nut, when the <span class="sc">autem-cackler</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, Dissenting minister, came and wanted to impart to the Israelite the sin he committed +in carrying on his vocation on such a day [Sunday]. The Jew half listened to what +the other said, but kept on calling out “Cocoa-nut a half-penny a slice, a very nice +cocoa-nut—cocoanut!” ’ +</p> +<p>2. A married woman.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Autem</span>. In this sense it is used in a canting song in the <i>New York Slang Dictionary</i>, first published in 1881, and which, as a specimen of the verse affected by the light-fingered +fraternity, it may not be out of place to give entire. It should be read in connection +with the remarks On <span class="sc">canting songs</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<h4>‘A HUNDRED STRETCHES (1) HENCE.’</h4> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line">‘Oh! where will be the culls of the bing (2) </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">A hundred stretches hence? </p> +<p class="line">The bene morts (3), who sweetly sing, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">A hundred stretches hence? </p> +<p class="line">The <span class="sc">autumn-cacklers</span>, autumn-coves (4), </p> +<p class="line">The jolly blade who wildly roves; </p> +<p class="line">And where the buffer (5), bruiser (6), blowen (7), </p> +<p class="line">And all the cops (8) and beaks (9) so knowin’ </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">A hundred stretches hence? </p> +</div> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line">‘And where the swag (10), so bleakly (11) pinched (12), </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">A hundred stretches hence? </p> +<p class="line">The thimbles (13), slang (14), and danglers (15) filched, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">A hundred stretches hence? </p> +<p class="line">The chips (16), the fawneys (17), chatty-feeders (18), </p> +<p class="line">The bugs (19), the boungs (20), and well-filled readers (21); </p> +<p class="line">And where the fence (22) and snoozing-ken (23), </p> +<p class="line">With all the prigs (24) and lushing men (25), </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">A hundred stretches hence? </p> +</div> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line">‘Played out they lay, it will be said </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">A hundred stretches hence; </p> +<p class="line">With shovels they were put to bed (26) </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">A hundred stretches since! </p> +<p class="line">Some rubbed to wit had napped a winder (27), </p> +<p class="line">And some were scragged (28) and took a blinder (29), </p> +<p class="line">Planted the swag and lost to sight, </p> +<p class="line">We’ll bid them, one and all, good-night, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">A hundred stretches hence.’ </p> +</div> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1, <i>Stretch</i>, a year; 2, <i>culls of the bing</i><span id="xd33e12580">,</span> innkeepers, publicans; 3, <i>bene morts</i>, pretty girls or women; 4, <i>autumn cove</i>, married men; 5, <i>buffer</i>, smuggler, rogue, or cheat; 6, <i>bruiser</i>, prostitute’s bully or prize-fighter; 7, <i>blowen</i>, a showy prostitute; 8, <i>cop</i>, policeman; 9, <i>beak</i>, a magistrate; 10, <i>swag</i>, plunder, proceeds of robbery; 11, <i>bleakly</i>, cleverly, also handsome; 12, <i>pinched</i>, stolen; 13, <i>thimble</i>, a watch; 14, <i>slang</i>, a watch chain; 15, <i>danglers</i>, a bunch of seals; 16, <i>chips</i>, money; 17, <i>fawney</i>, a ring; 18, <i>chatty-feeder</i>, a spoon; 19, <i>bug</i>, a breast pin; 20, <i>boung</i>, a purse; 21, <i>reader</i>, a pocket-book; 22, <i>fence</i>, a receiver of stolen goods; 23, <i>snoozing-ken</i>, a brothel; 24, <i>prig</i>, a thief; 25, <i>lushing-men</i>, drinking-men; 26, <i>put to bed with a shovel</i>, buried; 27, <i>to nap a winder</i>—<i>to nap</i>, to cheat, <i>winder</i>, a life sentence; 28, <i>scragged</i>, hanged; 29, <i>to take a blinder</i>, to drown oneself. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Autem Cackle Tub</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—The meeting house of Dissenters of every description. Also a pulpit. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Autem-Cove</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—A married man. [From <span class="sc">autem</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), a church + <span class="sc">cove</span>, a man.] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb81">[<a href="#pb81">81</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Autem-Dippers</b> or <b>Autem-Divers</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—1. Formerly a nickname for Baptists, from their practice of immersing +adult converts, as distinguished from infant sprinkling. +</p> +<p>2. Pickpockets who practised in churches were called <span class="sc">autem-divers</span>; also churchwardens and overseers of the poor who defrauded, deceived, and imposed +upon the parish. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Autem-Goglers</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—Pretended French prophets—<i>Grose</i>. Conjurors, fortune-tellers—<i>Duncombe</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Autem-Jet</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—A parson. [From <span class="sc">autem</span>, a church + <span class="sc">jet</span>, black, in allusion to the black garments usually worn by ‘the cloth.’] For some +curious synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Devil-dodger</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Autem</b>, or <b>Autem-Mort</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—A married woman, <i>i.e.</i>, one wedded in a church. [From <span class="sc">autem</span>, a church + <span class="sc">mort</span>, or <span class="sc">mot</span>, a woman.] The term belongs to the oldest cant, and is the subject of a long description +in Harman’s <i>Caveat</i>. (<i>See</i> quotation.) The old fraternity of vagabonds (for a full description of which, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cadgers</span>—<span class="sc">ancient and modern</span>) was divided into well marked classes, as also were the women who accompanied them +in their peregrinations. The men were not strict monogamists, either as regards lawful +companions or those of another grade— +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i> (1814), p. 49. These <span class="sc">Autem Mortes</span> be maried wemen, as there be but a fewe: For Autem in their language is a church, +so shee is a wyfe maried at the church, and they be as chaste as a cowe I have, that +goeth to bull eury moone, with what bull she careth not. These walke most times from +their husbands companye a moneth and more to gether, being asociate with another as +honest as her selfe. These wyll pylfar clothes of hedges; some of them go with children +of ten or xii years of age; yf tyme and place serue for their purpose, they will send +them into some house, at the window, to steale and robbe, which they call in their +language, Milling of the ken; and wil go with wallets on their shoulders, and slates +at their backes. There is one of these <span class="sc">Autem Mortes</span>, she is now a widow, of fyfty yeres old; her name is Alice Milson: she goeth about +with a couple of great boyes, the youngest of them is fast Upon xx yeares of age.… +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">Greene</span>, <i>Quip</i>, in <i>works</i> IX., 283. The pedler as bad or rather worse, walketh the country with his docksey +at the least, if he have not two, his <i>mortes dels</i>, and <span class="sc">Autem Mortis</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1610. <span class="sc">Rowlands</span>, <i>Martin Mark-all</i>, p. 7 (H. Club’s Reprint, 1874). Here another [complains] that they could not quietly +take their rest in the night, nor keepe his <span class="sc">autem</span>, or doxie sole vnto himselfe. +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">H. Ainsworth</span>, <i>Rookwood</i>, bk. III., ch. v. Morts, <span class="sc">autem-morts</span>, walking morts, dells, doxies with all the shades and grades of the canting crew, +were assembled. +</p> +<p>Toward the end of the eighteenth century <span class="sc">autem-mort</span> was used as synonymous with a female beggar alone; then another meaning crept into +the word—a prostitute.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Cadger</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Autem-Prickear.</b>—The same as <span class="sc">autem-cackler</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Autem-Quaver</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—A Quaker. [From <span class="sc">autem</span>, a church + <span class="sc">quaver</span>, referring to the shaking, peculiar to some of the religious exercises of the Society +of Friends.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Autem-Quaver-Tub</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old <span class="pageNum" id="pb82">[<a href="#pb82">82</a>]</span>cant).—A Quaker’s meeting-house; also a desk therein. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Author-Baiting</b>, <i>subs.</i> (theatrical).—Calling the author of an unsuccessful play before the curtain, and +then, wanting all sense of decency and feeling, to overwhelm him with every imaginable +source of annoyance—yelling, hooting, bellowing, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Avast!</b> <i>intj.</i> (nautical).—Hold on! Stop! Shut up! Stow it! etc., etc. No word perhaps has more +suggested derivations than <span class="sc">avast!</span> Webster writes it down as from the Italian <i lang="it">basta</i>, enough; literally, it suffices, from <i lang="it">bastare</i>, to suffice. He does not, however, seem to have been altogether certain, for he queries +whether it is not a worn-down form of the Dutch <i lang="nl">houd vast, hou’ vast</i>, hold fast! a derivation which Dr. Murray endorses as ‘probable’ in his <i>New Dictionary of the English Language</i>. Bearing in mind that <span class="sc">avast</span>, although used colloquially is first and foremost a sailor’s term, this derivation +does not seem far-fetched; for, the Dutch having been themselves one of the great +maritime nations of the past, it is not unlikely that the term should have come from +them, especially when it is borne in mind that a large proportion of nautical terms +are so derived. +</p> +<p>Such are boom; sprit; reef; schooner; skate; sloop; stiver; taffrail; yacht (<i lang="nl">jaghten</i>, ‘to chase’), etc. +</p> +<p>On the other hand, as regards the Italian <i lang="it">basta</i>, it is only fair to point out that French workmen use <i lang="fr">basta</i>, in the sense of enough! no more! The same term occurs also in the Spanish. +</p> +<p>Hotten connects it with the old cant <span class="sc">bynge a waste</span>, get out of the way! go hence! but though one cannot speak with certainty, this is +not, on the face of it, apparent. There seems no discoverable connection between the +two; moreover, the comparative and historical method of dealing with slang shows us +that <span class="sc">avast</span> in its present form and sense can be traced as far back as 1681, within about a hundred +years of the publication of Harman’s <i>Caveat</i> where <i>bynge a waste</i> first occurs. The probability therefore is that the two terms are distinct, and that +<span class="sc">avast</span> is derived from a different source to <span class="sc">bynge a waste</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) which, as Leland points out, has probably its origin in the Romany. +</p> +<p class="cit">1681. <span class="sc">Otway</span>, <i>Soldiers’ Fortune</i>, iv., i. Hoa up, hoa up; so <span class="sc">avast</span> there, sir. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Rod. Random</i>, ch. xli. ‘<span class="sc">Avast</span> there, friend: none of your tricks upon travellers.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1751. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Peregrine Pickle</i>, ch. xcvii. ‘And upon this scrap of paper—no, <span class="sc">avast</span>—that’s my discharge from the parish.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">W. C. Russell</span>, <i>Jack’s Courtship</i>, ch.<span id="xd33e12930"></span> xiv. But <span class="sc">avast</span> now! we’ve had enough of philosopherising. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Avoirdupois-Lay</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old thieves’ cant).—This is given by Grose as meaning the theft of brass weights +off shop counters. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Avuncular-Relation</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common<span class="corr" id="xd33e12947" title="Not in source">)</span>.—A pawnbroker—a facetious variant of <span class="sc">uncle</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), another name for the same individual. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb83">[<a href="#pb83">83</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Awake</b>, <i>adv.</i> (old, and modern American thieves’).—On the alert; vigilant. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">wide-awake</span>, a certain kind of hat, so called, by-the-bye, from its never having a ‘nap.’ For +synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Fly</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i> (Dicks’ ed., 1889), p. 6. +</p> +<p><i>Prime.</i> From the cut of the gentleman’s clothes, I presume he’s lately come from the Esquimaux +Islands. +</p> +<p><i>Tom.</i> Ha! ha! very good, Primefit; I say, Jerry—you see he’s down upon you. +</p> +<p><i>Jerry.</i> Yes, he’s up, <i>he’s</i> <span class="sc">awake</span>, <i>he’s fly</i>—Ha! ha! +</p> +<p class="cit">1838. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Nich. Nickleby</i>, ch. xxxix., p. 314. ‘If you hear the waiter coming, sir, shove it in your pocket +and look out of the window, d’ye hear?’ ‘I’m <span class="sc">awake</span>, father,’ replied the dutiful Wackford. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Awful</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A sensational newspaper, tale, or narration; <i>e.g.</i>, a penny <span class="sc">awful</span>. Sometimes called a <span class="sc">dreadful</span>; other names for this kind of mental <i>pabulum</i> are <span class="sc">blood and thunder tales</span>, and <span class="sc">gutter literature</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i>—Generally colloquial as an intensitive, conveying no more <i>awe-full</i> meaning than ‘very,’ ‘exceedingly,’ etc. Strange as it may appear this familiar usage +is very old, and was frequently heard north of the Tweed long prior to its use by +Southrons. An intermediate stage was its appearance across the Atlantic, whence its +re-introduction into the Mother Country may be traced. +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">Lamb</span>, <i>Gent. Giantess</i>, Misc. Wks. (1871), 363. She is indeed, as the Americans would express it, something +<span class="sc">awful</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>b.</i> 1789, <i>d.</i> 1880. <span class="sc">Planché</span>, <i>Good Woman in the Wood</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">‘A poor widow and her orphan chicks </p> +<p class="line">Left without fixtures, in an <span class="sc">awful</span> fix.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1883. <span class="sc">Hawley Smart</span>, <i>At Fault</i>, III., v., 82. ‘I’m <span class="sc">awful</span> glad you two have made acquaintance.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Awfully</span>, the adverbial form, is subjected to the same ill-treatment, as the following examples +will show. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Punch’s Pocket Book for 1878</i>, p. 165. You <i>should</i> have come with us. It’s too <span class="sc">awfully</span> nice, as I told you I thought it would be. +</p> +<p class="cit">1878. <span class="sc">M. E. Braddon</span>, <i>Cloven Foot</i>, ch. vii. ‘<span class="sc">Awfully</span>,’ was Miss Clare’s chief laudatory adjective [<i>sic</i>]; her superlative form of praise was ‘quite too <span class="sc">awfully</span>,’ and when enthusiasm carried her beyond herself she called things ‘nice.’ ‘Quite +too <span class="sc">awfully</span> nice,’ was her maximum of rapture. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Illustrated Bits</i>, July 13. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<h4><span class="sc">An Old Proverb Twisted.</span></h4> +<p class="line">‘The ham of the sandwich was <span class="sc">awfully</span> tough,’ </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">He said, for, oh, it was dry, </p> +<p class="line">As at first he tried to bite into the stuff, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">All in vain, how hard he would try. </p> +<p class="line">But at last, when fairly bit into the thing, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">He found that it was all right, </p> +<p class="line">And he said, as happy as any king, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">‘The bark was worse than the bite.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first">French equivalents are, <i lang="fr">bigrement</i>; <i lang="fr">jusqu’à la troisième capucine</i>; and <i lang="fr">pommé</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Awkward-Squad</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military and naval).—Recruits when commencing to learn their drill. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ax</b>, <b>Axe</b>, <i>verb.</i> (vulgar).—To ask. Though now looked upon as a vulgarism, <span class="sc">ax</span> is still largely dialectical, and is really the most correct form of the word. ‘Ask’ +is the northern gloss which has gradually supplanted <span class="sc">ax</span>. The latter, down to nearly 1600, says Dr. Murray, was the regular literary form. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1380. <span class="sc">Chaucer</span>, <i>Tale of Melibeus</i>. Seint Jame eck saith: If eny fellow have neede of sapiens, <span class="sc">axe</span> it of God. +</p> +<p class="cit">1474. <span class="sc">Caxton</span>, <i>Game of the Chesse</i>, bk. III., ch. viii. He must nedes begge and <span class="sc">axe</span> his breed. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb84">[<a href="#pb84">84</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1758. <span class="sc">A. Murphy</span>, <i>The Upholsterer</i>, Act i. An old crazy fool—<span class="sc">axing</span> your pardon, ma’am, for calling your father so. +</p> +<p class="cit">1763. <span class="sc">Foote</span>, <i>Mayor of Garratt</i>, Act ii., Sc. 2. <i>Mrs. Sneak.</i> Where is the puppy? <i>Sneak.</i> Yes, yes, she is <span class="sc">axing</span> for me. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">H. Kingsley</span>, <i>Ravenshoe</i>, ch. vi. ‘I <span class="sc">axed</span> her would she like to live in the great house, and she said no.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Echo</span>, Jan. 25, p. 2, col. 3. To <span class="sc">axe</span>, considered but a vulgarism, for to ask, is good Saxon. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Axe.</b> <span class="sc">An axe to grind</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—A much-used phrase of political origin. Men are said to have <span class="sc">axes to grind</span> when suspected of selfish or interested motives. From politics the expression has +passed into use among all classes of society. <i>The Chicago Daily Inter-Ocean</i> (Feb. 1888) spoke of certain politicians as ‘men with <span class="sc">axes to grind</span>.’ What we believe is right is more often so because it <span class="sc">grinds our axe</span> than otherwise. +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. (From Hoppe’s <i>Conversations Lexicon</i>). Miner. ‘Who’ll turn the grindstones?’ When I see a merchant over-polite to his +customers, begging them to taste a little brandy, and throwing half his goods on the +counter, thinks I, that man has an <span class="sc">axe to grind</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Detroit Free Press</i>, Sept. 22. William Black, the novelist, says the only <span class="sc">ax</span> a novelist has <span class="sc">to grind</span> is the climax. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Axe-My-Eye!</b> <i>subs.</i> (cheap jacks’).—One who is up to every trick; a cute fellow. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 232. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Stow your gab and gauffery, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">To every fakement I’m a fly; </p> +<p class="line">I never takes no fluffery, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">For I’m a regular <span class="sc">axe-my-eye</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Ayrshires</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Stock Exchange).—Glasgow and South-Western Railway Stock. +</p> +<p></p> +<div class="figure p1084width"><img src="images/p1084.png" alt="" data-role="presentation" width="153" height="154"></div><p> +<span class="pageNum" id="pb85">[<a href="#pb85">85</a>]</span> </p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div1 last-child letter"> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first"></p> +<div class="figure p1085width"><img src="images/p1085.png" alt="" data-role="presentation" width="500" height="140"></div><p> +</p> +<div class="figure floatLeft"><img src="images/initial-b.png" alt="B" width="120" height="128"></div> +<p class="first"><b></b> <span class="sc">Not to know b from a battledore</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To be entirely illiterate; very ignorant. This old cant phrase has several +variants, all of them alliterative in character. For example, <span class="sc">not to know b from a bull’s-foot</span>—<span class="sc">from a broomstick</span>—<span class="sc">chalk from cheese</span>, etc. Each and all indicate inability to distinguish between familiar objects that +differ. Battledore is an old name for the hornbook from which children used to learn +the alphabet. +</p> +<p class="cit">1401. <i>Pol. Poems</i>, II., 57. I know not an <span class="sc">a</span> from the wynd-mylne, ne a <span class="sc">b from a bole foot</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1609. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Guls-Hornebooke</i>, 3. You shall not neede to buy bookes; no, scorne to <span class="sc">distinguish a b from a battledore</span>; onely looke that your eares be long enough to reach our rudiments, and you are made +for ever. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846. <span class="sc">Brackenridge</span>, <i>Modern Chivalry</i>, 43. There were members who <span class="sc">scarcely knew b from a bull’s-foot</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>B</b> (fenian).—Mr. H. J. Byron, the playwright, in his annotated copy of the <i>Slang Dictionary</i>, mentions this as the title of a captain in the ‘army of the Irish Republican Brotherhood.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>B’s.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">B flat</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Babe</b>, <i>subs.</i> (parliamentary).—The last elected member of the House of Commons. The oldest representative +of the chamber is called the <span class="sc">father of the house</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p>(American).—The youngest member of a class at the United States Military College at +West Point. A term <i>sans</i> wit, <i>sans</i> point, <i>sans</i> almost everything. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Babe in the Wood</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—1. A victim of the law’s solicitude; in other words, a culprit sentenced to +the stocks or the pillory. Obsolete. +</p> +<p>2. Dice are also called <span class="sc">babes in the wood</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Babes</b>, <i>subs.</i> (auctioneers’).—A set of auction thieves, who attend sales for the express purpose +of blackmail. Their <i lang="la">modus operandi</i> is as follows. In consideration of a small bribe of money or beer, or both, they +<span class="pageNum" id="pb86">[<a href="#pb86">86</a>]</span>agree not to oppose the bidding of the larger dealers, who thus dishonestly keep down +the price of lots. The practice is generally worked in connection with <span class="sc">knock-outs</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p>(American).—A set of Baltimore rowdies are so-called; at various times they have also +received the names of <span class="sc">blood tubs</span> and <span class="sc">plug-uglies</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baboo-English</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Anglo-Indian).—A species of ‘<span class="sc">English as she is wrote</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>). Its main peculiarity is its grandiloquence, a feature born of an attempt to adapt +Western speech to Eastern imagery and hyperbole. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baby-Herder</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A nurse; a simile drawn from life on the plains, and worked out with +true cowboy humour. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Babylonitish</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A dressing gown. An abbreviated form of ‘Babylonitish garment.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baby-Pap</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A cap; part of the so-called <span class="sc">rhyming slang</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bacca.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Baccy</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bacca-Pipes</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Whiskers when curled in ringlets, a now obsolete fashion.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Mutton-chops</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baccare!</b> <b>Backare!</b> <i>intj.</i> (old cant).—Go back! [a humorous form of <span class="sc">back</span> + a simulated Latin termination]. In use from about 1553–1660. +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">Lyly</span>, <i>Midas</i>, V., 2. The masculine gender is more worthy than the feminine. Therefore, Licio. +<span class="sc">backare</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1593. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Taming of the Shrew</i>, ii.; +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray </p> +<p class="line">Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too; </p> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">Baccare!</span> you are marvellous forward. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit right">[<span class="asc">N.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baccy</b>, also <b>Bacca</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A corrupted form of ‘tobacco.’ Apparently of quite recent introduction. +An equivalent term in French is <i lang="fr">perlot</i>, from <i lang="fr">perle</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1833. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Peter Simple</i>, ch. ii. ‘You must larn to chaw <span class="sc">baccy</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Jas. Conway</span>, <i>Forays among Salmon and Deer</i>, p. 228. I lay on an Affghan goat-rug spread over fresh heather, with a pipe filled +with good <span class="sc">baccy</span> in my mouth. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bach</b> or <b>Batch</b>, <i>verb.</i> (American).—To live as a bachelor. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bachelor’s Baby</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—An illegitimate child. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Bye-blow</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bachelors-Fare</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—Bread and cheese and kisses—a humorous allusion to the real or alleged +‘short commons,’ generally assumed to be meted out to a man who is unattached. Like +many other proverbial sayings there is more sound than truth in it. +</p> +<p class="cit">1738. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Polite Conversation</i>, conv. i. <i>Lady Ans.</i> Colonel, some ladies of your acquaintance have promised to breakfast with you, and +I am to wait on them; what will you give us? <i>Col.</i> Why, faith, madam, <span class="sc">bachelor’s-fare</span>, bread and cheese and kisses. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back</b>, <i>verb.</i> (popular).—To bet or wager; to support by means of money, kind, or influence, on +the turf or elsewhere. From <span class="pageNum" id="pb87">[<a href="#pb87">87</a>]</span>the earlier and more legitimate meaning to support, maintain, or strengthen. Possibly +in the sense of to wager or support by betting, <span class="sc">back</span> can hardly nowadays be classed as slang; there seems too, to be long and constant +usage to support its claim as a regular dictionary word. +</p> +<p>(Uppingham School).—At football, to be ready for a chance. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To put</span> or <span class="sc">set up one’s back</span>, phr. (familiar).—To rouse oneself to antipathy; to get angry; to resist. The figure +presented is that of a cat, which, when irritated, arches or sets up its back. Also +used negatively as an exhortation to keep one’s temper. <span class="sc">Don’t get your back up!</span> For synonymous phrases, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Hold your hair on!</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1726. <span class="sc">Vanbrugh and Cibber</span>, <i>Provoked Husband</i>, V., iii., 112. O Lud! <span class="sc">how her back will be up</span> then when she meets me. +</p> +<p class="cit">1771. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Humphry Clinker</i>, ch. 66. My uncle’s <span class="sc">back was up</span> in a moment; and he desired him to explain his pretensions. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Newcomes</i>, ch. xvi. ‘I know she is flighty, and that; and Brian’s <span class="sc">back is up</span> a little. But he ain’t a bad fellow; and I wish I could see you and his wife better +friends.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Greenwood</span>, <i>Grandmother Cooper</i>, in <i>Odd People in Odd Places</i>, p 2. ‘You don’t know what you’re sayin’; therefore you don’t mean no harm. If so +be you think what you just now said, keep it to yourself, don’t say it to me. It <span class="sc">sets my back up</span>, and when my back’s set up I’m sometimes orkard.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To ride on one’s back</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To deceive successfully. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back and Belly</b>, <i>phr.</i> (vulgar).—1. Back and before; all over. +</p> +<p>2. <span class="sc">To keep one back and belly</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To feed and clothe. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Belly-timber</span> and <span class="sc">Back-timber</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back-Breaker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—One who sets, or that which is, an example of more than ordinary human +powers of endurance; <i>e.g.</i>, in pedestrianism or racing a man or horse whose pace is considerably over the average. +In sporting phraseology he or it is called a <span class="sc">scorcher</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) and the pace of such is also eloquently called ‘killing.’ <span class="sc">Back-breaking</span> is therefore synonymous with excessive exertion or effort of all kinds. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back-Cap.</b> <span class="sc">To give a back-cap</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—To expose; to reveal what one knows of another, in a detrimental sense. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Mark Twain</span>, <i>Life on the Mississippi</i>, p. 462. [A pretended converted thief is made to say]:—i told him all about my being +in prison and about you, and how i had almost done giving up looking for work and +how the Lord got me the job when i asked him … and then i felt better than ever i +had done in my life, for i had given Mr. Brown a fair start with me and now i didn’t +fear no one <span class="sc">giving me a back-cap</span> and running me off the job. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back-Cheat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—A cloak. Also called a <span class="sc">wrap-rascal</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back-Door.</b> <span class="sc">A gentleman of the back-door</span>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (common).—A sodomist; formerly a <span class="sc">backgammon player</span>. The vice itself is called <span class="sc">back-door work</span>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Usher</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Backdoor-Trot</b>, <i>subs.</i> (provincial).—Diarrhœa. The allusion is obvious. A more common term is <span class="sc">jerry-go-nimble</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +<span class="pageNum" id="pb88">[<a href="#pb88">88</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Back Down</b>, <i>verb</i>, (common).—To yield; to retreat from a position; to abandon a line of argument; to +eat one’s words. Originally an American turn of expression.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Back track</span> and <span class="sc">Back out</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Subs.</i>—Usually a <span class="sc">square back down</span>; a severe rebuff; sometimes, utter collapse. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Backed</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (old).—Dead—a figurative use of to ‘put on one’s back,’ <i>i.e.</i>, to place <i lang="fr">hors de combat</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back-End</b>, <i>subs.</i> (racing).—The last two months of the racing season. More technical than slang. +</p> +<p class="cit">1820. <i>Blackw. Mag.</i>, Oct., p. 3. When you did me the honour to stop a day or two at last <span class="sc">back-end</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Hawley Smart</span>, <i>Hard Lines</i>, ch. xxix. ‘Most of what I got over that steeplechase I dropped at the <span class="sc">back-end</span> over the October handicaps.’ +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i>—The meaning, <i lang="la">mutatis mutandis</i>, is the same as <span class="sc">back-end</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, April 30, p. 3, col. 6. And neither [horse] could beat Palermo on <span class="sc">back-end</span> form. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back-Gammon Player.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Back-door</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Backhand</b>, <i>verb.</i> (common).—To detain the decanter when it is passed round, and thus to drink more +than one’s share; a more recent phrase is ‘not drinking fair.’—<i>See</i>, however, <span class="sc">Backhander</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">G. A. Lawrence</span>, <i>Guy Livingstone</i>, ch. viii. ‘Livingstone, if you begin <span class="sc">backhanding</span> already, you’ll never be able to hold that great raking chestnut I saw your groom +leading this evening.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back-Handed Turn</b> (Stock Exchange).—An unprofitable bargain. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Backhander</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. A drink out of turn; also detention of wine at table so as to get an +extra share. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <span class="sc">Thackery</span>, <i>Newcomes</i>, ch. xliii. ‘Thank you, Mr. Binnie, I <i>will</i> take a <span class="sc">backhander</span>, as Clive don’t seem to drink.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1873. <i>Saturday Review</i>, p. 798. Long experience has shown us that to get small advantages over us gives +the Scotch so much pleasure, that we should not think of grudging them the mild satisfaction, +just as a kindly host affects not to notice a valued guest, who, he observes, always +helps himself to an innocent <span class="sc">backhander</span>. +</p> +<p>2. A blow on the face with the back of the hand. +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Midshipman Easy</i>, p. 11. ‘Go away, Sarah,’ said Johnny, with a <span class="sc">backhander</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <span class="sc">Farrar</span>, <i>St. Winifred’s</i>, ch. xxxiii. He administered a <span class="sc">backhander</span> to Elgood, as he spoke, and the next minute Charlie, roused beyond all bearing, had +knocked him down. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>. The doctor comes suddenly round a corner, and finds Tibbs [a fag] mopping the rosy +fluid from his nose with a rueful countenance, having just received a sharp <span class="sc">backhander</span> from one of his lords and masters. +</p> +<p>3. Hence, figuratively, a rebuke; a ‘setting down.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1850. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>Kate Coventry</i>, ch. i. I knew this was what John calls a <span class="sc">back hander</span> at me, but I can be so good-natured when I have anything to gain, therefore I only +said ——<span>.</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Backing and Filling</b>, <i>adj.</i> (colloquial).—A <span class="sc">backing and filling</span> policy is one that is shifty; irresolute; trifling. A figurative usage derived from +<span class="sc">backing and filling</span> a vessel, <i>i.e.</i>, keeping it in the middle of the stream of a narrow river by advancing <span class="pageNum" id="pb89">[<a href="#pb89">89</a>]</span>first to one shore, and then backing to the other, allowing the stream to make the +way, the wind blowing in an opposite direction to the stream. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Backing-On.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Turning-on</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Backings Up</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—The unconsumed ends of half-burned fagots. They are collected +and sometimes made into surreptitious fires by ‘Juniors.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back Jump</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A back window.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Jump</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Backmarked.</b> <span class="sc">To be backmarked</span>, <i>verb.</i> (pedestrian).—In handicapping to receive less start from ‘scratch’ than previously +given—even to being put back to ‘scratch.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back Out</b>, <i>verb.</i> (colloquial).—To retreat cautiously and tacitly; from stable phraseology; <i>e.g.</i>, the <span class="sc">backing out</span> of a horse. Very much the same as to <span class="sc">back down</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1817. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Rob Roy</i>, ch. viii. Jobson, however, was determined that Morris should not <span class="sc">back out</span> of the scrape so easily. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <span class="sc">A. Trollope</span>, <i>The Warden</i>, ch. xii. How was he to <span class="sc">back out</span> of a matter in which his name was already so publicly concerned? +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">L. Oliphant</span>, <i>Piccadilly</i>, pt. IV., p. 152. I am sure that he had done his best to spread the report of my +marriage with his sister for fear of my <span class="sc">backing out</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back Scuttle</b>, <i>verb.</i> (thieves’).—The same as <span class="sc">back-slang</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back-Seam.</b> <span class="sc">To be down on one’s back-seam</span>, <i>phr.</i> (tailors’).—To be down on one’s luck; to be unfortunate. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back Seat.</b> <span class="sc">To take a back seat</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—Figuratively, to retire into obscurity; it also sometimes implies a silent +confession of failure; an inability to accomplish what one has attempted. The colloquialism +has gained a world-wide currency; it received an immense ‘send off,’ as the Americans +say, from Andrew Johnson’s famous saying in 1868, that in the work of Reconstruction +traitors should <span class="sc">take back seats</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Society</i>, Feb. 7, p. 9. This great batting achievement must, however, <span class="sc">take a back seat</span> when compared with the enormous total recently scored by Shaw’s Eleven in Australia, +against a powerful Colonial team. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Daily News</i>, Feb. 24, p. 5, col. 2. Any form of art which is barred by its very nature from perfection +must <span class="sc">take</span> what the Americans call <span class="sc">a back seat</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Texas Siftings</i>, p. 426. Who will say the Britishers are not a forbearing and forgiving race, and +the inhabitants of Stratford-on-Avon don’t by any means <span class="sc">take a back seat</span> in that line? Ignatius Donnelly actually visited the birthplace of Shakespeare, and +wasn’t lynched! Far from it, he was hospitably received and entertained. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back-Slum</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial).—The lowest and most disreputable quarters of a town or city; generally +applied to the dens and rookeries of the criminal and ‘outcast’ classes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff’s</span> <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act ii., Scene 5. <i>Log.</i> Well, don’t grumble—every one must pay for his learning—and you wouldn’t bilk the +schoolmaster, would you? But, come, I’m getting merry; so if you wish for a bit of +good truth, come with me, and let’s have a dive among the cadgers in the <span class="sc">back slums</span>, in the Holy Land. <i>Jerry.</i> <span class="sc">Back slums</span>—Holy Land!—I’m at fault again. <i>Log.</i> Why, among the beggars in Dyot Street, St. Giles’s. <i>Tom.</i> Beggars! ah, we shall be very good figures for the part. +</p> +<p class="cit right">(<i>Turns out his pockets.</i>) +<span class="pageNum" id="pb90">[<a href="#pb90">90</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">M. E. Braddon</span>, <i>Joshua Haggard’s Daughter</i>, ch. xx. Not in fetid alleys and festering London <span class="sc">back-slums</span> only is man’s fight with difficulty a bitter and crushing battle. +</p> +<p>(Australian thieves’.)—A back room or entrance. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Backstaircase</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A bustle, or ‘dress improver.’ For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Birdcage</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Backstair Influence</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—Underhand dealing or persuasion; a stab in the dark; intrigue. [From +the use of the back or private stairs of a palace, etc., for other than state visitors; +hence, a secret mode of approach; and, attributively, applied to indirect, oblique, +and unfair intrigue.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1697. <span class="sc">Vanbrugh</span>, <i>Relapse</i>, II. He is like a <span class="sc">backstair</span> minister at Court, who, while the reputed favourites are sauntering in the bed-chamber, +is ruling the <span class="sic">roast</span> in the closet. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">Grenville Murray</span>, <i>Round about France</i>, p. 77. These men are the most indefatigable retailers of <span class="sc">backstairs</span> small talk to the little fry of journalism. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back-Stall</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—An accomplice who ‘covers’ the actual thief; especially used in relation +to garrote-robberies, in which the <span class="sc">back-stall</span> has two functions, first to screen his companion, and then, if necessary, to ‘make +off’ with the booty. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back Talk.</b> <span class="sc">No back talk!</span> <i>phr.</i> (common).— 1. A slang catch-phrase indicating that the matter in question is closed +to discussion; ‘there’s nothing more to be said.’ +</p> +<p>2. Underhand insinuation. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back Teeth.</b> <span class="sc">To have one’s back teeth well afloat</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—A facetiously brutal way of implying that the subject of such a remark +is well primed with liquor—even to the verge of drunkenness.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Screwed</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Missouri Republican</i>, 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 honour once more drank until, as +an onlooker put it, his <span class="sc">back teeth were well afloat</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back-Timber</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Clothes. A humorous term which dates back to the middle of the seventeenth +century. Other slang equivalents are <span class="sc">togs</span> and <span class="sc">toggery</span>; also <span class="sc">war-paint</span> in the sense of fine or showy garb. In French argot, <i lang="fr">alpague</i> is used synonymously. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>b.</i> 1574, <i>d.</i> 1656. <span class="sc">Bp. Hall</span>, <i>Works</i> V., 543. Was there ever more riot and excess in diet and clothes, in belly-cheer +and <span class="sc">back-timber</span>, than we see at this day? [<span class="sc">d.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back Tommy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (tailors’).—A piece of cloth used to cover the ‘stays’ at the waist. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back-Track.</b> <span class="sc">To take the back-track</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—To retreat from any assumed position; to <span class="sc">back out</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back Up</b>, <i>verb.</i> (Winchester College).—To call out. In ‘College’ various times are called out by Junior +in ‘Chambers,’ such as ‘Three quarters!’ ‘Hour!’ ‘Bells go single!’ ‘Bells down!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Back-Slang</b>, <i>subs.</i> (street and costermonger).—A species of <span class="pageNum" id="pb91">[<a href="#pb91">91</a>]</span>slang, in which every word, as far as possible, is pronounced backwards. <i>See</i> ‘A Comparative and Historical Study of Slang’ at the end of this work. +</p> +<p><i>verb.</i> 1. (thieves’).—To talk in the <span class="sc">back-slang</span> lingo. +</p> +<p>2. (thieves’).—To go or come stealthily from a place; to sneak by a roundabout way; +also, to go away quickly. +</p> +<p>3. (Australian).—Up country in Australia, as in most parts a little out of the beaten +tracks of civilization, a traveller is welcome at most of the homesteads in his way. +Though unknown to the inmates, and bearing no letter of introduction, it is a common +thing for a wayfarer to ride or drive up to a house, maybe call for help, and then +take up his quarters for the night. This, in Australia, is called <span class="sc">back-slanging it</span>, though how the phrase is derived is not quite clear, for there is no suggestion +of sneaking or proceeding stealthily in the question. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Backwardation</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Stock Exchange).—A penalty paid for an extension of time, by sellers, when unable +to deliver stock or shares which they have contracted to deliver by a certain date. +<span class="sc">Backwardation</span> is the reverse of <span class="sc">contango</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). Obviously this sometimes permits the purchase of stock cheaper on credit than for +cash. +</p> +<p class="cit">1850. <span class="sc">Keyser</span>, <i>Law of the Stock Exchange</i>. The term <span class="sc">backwardation</span> is employed when stock is more in demand than money, and a premium is given to obtain +the loan of stock against its value in money. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Daily News</i>, 14 Dec, p. 6, col. 1. The 1873 loan is, on balance, about ⅝ lower, at 94, after +being 93½. The <span class="sc">backwardation</span> on the stock went off at the close. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Backy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (tailors’).—A shop-mate who works behind another. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bacon</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—The human body. A reference probably to the fact that the flesh of the +pig forms the staple meat diet of the rural population, and lower classes generally. +Formerly, no doubt, the term was applied, at first ironically or contemptuously, to +a sleek, gross person; hence such compounds as ‘chaw-bacon,’ ‘bacon-brains,’ ‘bacon-face,’ +‘bacon-slicer,’ ‘bacon-picker,’ etc. A transference in sense, and a curtailment in +form, in which <span class="sc">bacon</span> came to signify the human body was, from this point, easy enough. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Apple-cart</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To save one’s bacon</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—To escape narrowly from loss, danger, or damage; to just get off. The +term is here an attributive usage of the slang sense, in which <span class="sc">bacon</span> signifies the human body. When it is said that a man has just <span class="sc">saved his bacon</span>, it refers to the individual himself. So also in the kindred phrase, ‘Oh, <span class="sc">spare my bacon</span>,’ the suppliant asks to be spared in his own person; and the same idea occurs in +‘<span class="sc">to sell one’s bacon</span>,’ <i>i.e.</i>, one’s flesh or body, as in the case of women of the town. Falstaff, in. <i>I. Henry IV.</i>, Act ii., Sc. 2. 93 [1596] thus applies <span class="sc">bacon</span> to human beings—‘On! Bacons, on!’ So far the general aspect of the question; in regard +to particulars, Mr. Thomas <span class="pageNum" id="pb92">[<a href="#pb92">92</a>]</span>Boys has some curious remarks upon the subject [N. and Q., 2 S., iv., 132] in effect +as follows. In connecting the phrase <span class="sc">to save one’s bacon</span> with its original meaning, we are carried back to times when imputed heresy was expiated +at the stake; and a man was said to have just <span class="sc">saved his bacon</span> (<i>i.e.</i>, from <i>frying</i>), who had himself narrowly escaped the penalty of being burnt alive. This connection +of the two ideas is thus shown. When a pig is killed, it is the custom in some of +the southern countries of Europe, as well as in many parts of England, to remove the +bristles from the dead pig’s hide, not by scalding but by <i>singeing</i>. This is an operation of some nicety; for too much singeing would spoil the bacon. +But practice makes perfect; and by the aid of ignited stubble, straw, or paper, the +object is effected. The bristles are all singed off, and the bacon remains intact. +This operation of singeing is in Portugal called <i lang="pt">chamuscar</i>, from <i lang="pt">chama</i> or <i lang="pt">chamma</i>, a flame or blaze. <i lang="pt">Chamuscar</i>, to singe, as pigs, to takeoff the hair (Moraes). Hence the noun <i lang="pt">chamusco</i>, which is <i>the smell of anything that has been singed</i>. Hence also the phrase <i lang="pt">cheira a chamusco</i> (he smells of singeing). This last phrase, however, <i lang="pt">cheira a chamusco</i>, was specially applied to any suspected <i>heretic</i>:—‘<i lang="pt">o que merece ser queimado, e faz per onde o seja, o que dizião por afronta aos Judeos +encobertos</i>.<span>’</span> That is ‘he who deserved to be burnt, and acted in a way that was very likely to +lead to it,’ was said to <i>smell</i> of singeing (‘<i lang="pt">cheirar a chamusco</i>’), <i>i.e.</i>, to smell of the fire. Consequently, the phrase was contumeliously addressed to anyone +who was secretly a Jew (Moraes). Thus the persecuted Israelite, who steadfastly adhered +to his forefathers’ creed, and lived in daily peril of the stake, was allusively but +threateningly and insultingly compared to the abhorred carcass, which, though not +yet roasted, boiled or fried, had already the smell of fire. If, after all, he was +actually burnt alive, the same allusion was carried out to the end; for he was then +said, ‘<i lang="pt">morrer frito</i>,’ to be <i>fried</i> to death (literally, ‘<i>to die fried</i>’). But even if not burnt he still had the <i lang="pt">chamusco</i>, or ‘smell of fire’; that is, he had only <span class="sc">just saved his bacon</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1691. <i>Weesils</i>, I., 5. No, they’l conclude I do’t to <span class="sc">save my bacon</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1705. <span class="sc">Ward</span>, <i>Hudibras Redivivus</i>, vol. I., pt. II., p. 12. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">For could their talent be forsaken, </p> +<p class="line">And they unite truth to <span class="sc">save their bacon</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1721. <span class="sc">Mrs. Centlivre</span>, <i>The Artifice</i>, v., ii. That pretence shan’t <span class="sc">save your bacon</span>, you old villain you. +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">M. Scott</span>, <i>Cringle’s Log</i>, ch. v. ‘You know I <span class="sc">saved your bacon</span> in that awkward affair, when through drunkenness you plumped the <i>Torch</i> ashore.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <span class="sc">C. Reade</span>, <i>Never Too Late</i>, ch. lii. Jem drew a long breath and said brutally, yet with something of satisfaction, +‘You have <span class="sc">saved your bacon</span> this time.’ +</p> +<p>The French equivalent it may be noticed is somewhat analogous—<i lang="fr">sauver son lard</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘to save one’s bacon.’ +</p> +<p>Possibly, however, most people will be inclined to take the phrase at its face value, +without resort to complicated argumentative derivation. In such a case the figurative +use <span class="pageNum" id="pb93">[<a href="#pb93">93</a>]</span>of bacon as signifying the body will suffice to explain its origin. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To pull bacon</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—An operation described by the immortal Ingoldsby in the line— +</p> +<p class="cit">He put his thumb unto his nose and spread his fingers out. +</p> +<p>In other words <span class="sc">to take a sight</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), or <span class="sc">to make Queen Anne’s fan</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Household Words</i>, Oct. 2, p. 453. [This] peculiar action has, I believe, almost invariably been described +as ‘taking a sight.’ A solicitor, however, in a recent police case at Manchester, +described it as <span class="sc">pulling bacon</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Leeds Evening News</i>, Sept. 15. <span class="sc">‘Pulling bacon’ at Leeds policemen.</span>—Before Mr. Goodman and Mr. Farrar Smith, at the Leeds Police Court to-day, George +Evans (50), coachman to the Earl of Mexborough, Mexborough Hall, near Methley, was +summoned under the Hackney Carriage Bye-laws for having driven on the wrong side of +the road. Police-constables Moody and Lockwood were on duty in Boar Lane on the 6th +inst., when they saw the defendant driving a pair of horses attached to a carriage +on the wrong side of the road for a distance of one hundred yards. The officers spoke +to him, when he put his fingers to his nose and <span class="sc">pulled bacon</span> at them. He had been previously cautioned, but had not taken the slightest notice. +Defendant said he had been a driver in London for eighteen years, and knew they had +policemen in the road there, but he did not understand the law of driving in Yorkshire. +He was fined 20s. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bacon-Faced</b>, <i>adj.</i> (colloquial).—With sleek, fat face; full faced. Otway in the <i>Atheist</i> [1684] speaks of one with a ‘<span class="sc">bacon face</span> like a cherubim.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bacon-Fed</b>, <i>adj.</i> (colloquial).—Fat or greasy. The expression occurs in Shakspeare’s <i>King Henry IV.</i>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bacon</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bacon-Slicer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A rustic.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Chawbacon</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1653. <span class="sc">Urquhart</span>, <i>Rabelais</i>, bk. I., ch. xv. (Bohn), I., 149. If he have not a better judgment, a better discourse, +and that expressed in better terms than your son, with a complete carriage and civility +to all manner of persons, account me for ever hereafter a very clounch, and <span class="sc">bacon-slicer</span> of Brene. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad</b>, <i>adj.</i> (popular).—Hard; difficult. Used as in quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">Hawley Smart</span>, <i>Post to Finish</i>, ch. xi. ‘I have heard you say over and over again that, when they are in the mood, +their very temper makes them <span class="sc">bad</span> to beat.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To go to the bad</span>, <i>phr.</i> (colloquial).—To be ruined; to become depraved. Virgil has a similar phrase <i lang="la">in pejus ruere</i>, ‘to go to the worse.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">M. E. Braddon</span>, <i>Aurora Floyd</i>, ch. xi. ‘A reckless man, ready <span class="sc">to go to the bad</span> by any road that can take me there; worthless alike to myself and to others.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">G. R. Sims</span>, <i>Ballads of Babylon</i> (<i>Beauty and Beast</i>). Let him <span class="sc">go to the bad</span> at his own mad pace. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To the bad</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, on the wrong side of the account; in deficit. +</p> +<p class="cit">1816. ‘Quiz,’ <i>Grand Master</i>, viii., 25. I’ve really <span class="sc">to the bad</span> some thousand of rupees to add. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Pall Mall G.</i>, 6 Feb., 4. He was between £70 and £80 <span class="sc">to the bad</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Want ’em</span> or <span class="sc">him bad</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—A humorous manner of expressing strong desire. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Daily Inter-Ocean</i>, March 9. Myers’ absence is seriously annoying to the defense, and does not appear +quite as funny as it did when the prosecution called for him on Saturday last. It +is not probable that the Court will very long suspend the trial if Myers does not +appear. As the case now stands, the defense want Myers, and <span class="sc">want him bad</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad ’Apenny.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bad halfpenny</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb94">[<a href="#pb94">94</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad-Bargain</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Formerly a worthless soldier; a malingerer. Nowadays the term is applied to +any worthless person or scapegrace. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad-Break</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A corruption of ‘bad outbreak,’ <i>i.e.</i>, riotous conduct, generally attributable to drink. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad Crowd Generally</b>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—Of Western origin, and equivalent to the English <span class="sc">no great shakes</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). ‘Crowd,’ it may be remarked, in America, signifies either <i>one</i> or more individuals. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad-Egg</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—A scoundrel; a blackguard; a ‘loose fish.’ In America the meaning attached +to the term does not necessarily involve such an idea of depravity as on this side +of the Atlantic. In the States the term is also applied to a worthless speculation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <span class="sc">Sala</span>, <i>Trip to Barbary</i>, p. 130. The man in black baize with the felt képi, and who had a hatchet face desperately +scarred with the small-pox, looked from head to heel a <span class="sc">bad egg</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. ii., p. 123. There is no doubt, but there are many of the officials of the convict +prisons who are what the Yankees call <span class="sc">bad eggs</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> Bad-lot; bad halfpenny; bad-hat. In Australia ‘ne’er-do-wells’ are termed sundowners; +dry hash; or, a stringy bark. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i>Malfrat</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">mauvais gobet</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">mauvais</i>, bad; <i lang="fr">gobet</i>, properly a mouthful, morsel, lump, or piece); <i lang="fr">ferlampier</i> or <i lang="fr">ferlandier</i> (thieves’: <i lang="fr">ferlampié</i> formerly signified a dunce); <i lang="fr">clique</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">mariasse</i> (popular). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad Form</b>, <i>subs.</i> (society).—He who, or that which fails to conform to the shifting fads and fancies +of Society, with a big S; and, in a more general sense, anybody or anything vulgar +or lacking polish. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Punch.</i> <span class="sc">Eton boy.</span> What an awful lot of energy you’ve got uncle! <span class="sc">Uncle</span>. Pretty well, my boy, for my time of life, I think! <span class="sc">e. b.</span> Yes! but energy’s such awful <span class="sc">bad form</span>, you know! +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Badge</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Used in the canting sense, for one branded in the hand. ‘He has got his <span class="sc">badge</span>, and piked’; <i>i.e.</i>, ‘he was burned in the hand, and is at liberty.<span>’</span>—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Badge-Cove</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A parish pensioner; also in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries +a licensed beggar or almsman. The remarks under <span class="sc">Abram man</span> and <span class="sc">Abram sham</span> are to the point in this connection. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Badger</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A river thief. A good account of these gentry appears in Harrison Ainsworth’s +<i>Jack Sheppard</i>. +</p> +<p>2. (American thieves’).—In the cant language of the American criminal classes a <span class="sc">badger</span> or <span class="sc">panel thief</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) is one who robs a man after a woman accomplice has enticed the victim into her den. +</p> +<p>3. (schoolboy).—A red haired individual. +</p> +<p>4. (harlotry).—A common prostitute.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Barrack-hack</span>. +</p> +<p>5. (nautical).—Sometimes <span class="sc">badger-bag</span>. The fictitious individual personating Neptune in the festivities incident to ‘crossing +the line.’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Ambassador</span> and <span class="sc">Arthur</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb95">[<a href="#pb95">95</a>]</span></p> +<p>6. (Wellington School).—A fellow who has got his ‘badge’ for play in the 2nd XV. at +football. +</p> +<p><i>verb.</i> (popular).—To tease; to annoy; to confound. +</p> +<p class="cit">1798. <span class="sc">O. Keefe</span>, <i>Wild Oats</i>, I., i. At home, abroad, you will still <span class="sc">badger</span> me. +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Pickwick</i>, ch. xxxiv., p. 299. Tracy Tupman, and Augustus Snodgrass, were severally called +into the box; both corroborated the testimony of their unhappy friend; and each was +driven to the verge of desperation by excessive <span class="sc">badgering</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Great Expectations</i>, ch. xviii., p. 82. ‘Which I meantersay,’ cried Joe, ‘that if you come into my place +bull-baiting and <span class="sc">badgering</span> me, come out!’ +</p> +<p>The popular French equivalent of <span class="sc">to badger</span> is <i lang="fr">aguigner</i>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To overdraw the badger</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—A figurative use of ‘drawing the badger’; to overdraw one’s banking account. +</p> +<p class="cit">1843–4. <span class="sc">Hood</span>, <i>Miss Kilmansegg</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">His cheeks no longer drew the cash, </p> +<p class="line">Because, as his comrades explain’d in flash, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">He had <i>overdrawn his badger</i>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Badger State</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A popular name for the State of Wisconsin, and so called because of the +<span class="sc">badgers</span> which once abounded there. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad Give-Away.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Give away</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad-Halfpenny</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A ne’er-do-weel; an allusion to the frequency with which, like bad coins, +they are always ‘turning up.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bad-egg</span>. +</p> +<p>(Australian).—A failing speculation; a risky venture. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad Hat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—The same as <span class="sc">bad egg</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Besant</span>, <i>They Were Married</i>, p. II., ch. ix., in <i>Captain’s Room, etc.</i> There may be one or two <span class="sc">bad hats</span> among eldest sons; but there is not one, I am sure—there cannot be one—who would +dare to take his wife’s salary and deprive her of her son. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad Lot.</b>—A term derived from auctioneering slang, and now generally used to describe a man +or woman of indifferent morals. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Pendennis</i>, ch. lx. ‘He’s a bad’un, Mr. Lightfoot—a <span class="sc">bad lot</span>, sir, and that you know.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Trail of the Serpent</i>, bk. I., ch. ii. ‘I am good for nothing,’ he said, ‘I am a <span class="sc">bad lot</span>. I wonder they don’t hang such men as me.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">M. E. Braddon</span>, <i>Dead Sea Fruit</i>, ch. i. ‘The impracticable Daniel has a certain kind of influence; and though he +rarely cares to use it on his own account—being so <span class="sc">bad a lot</span> that he dare not give himself a decent character—he will employ it to the uttermost +for a spotless nephew.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad Man</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A <span class="sc">bad man</span>, in the West, is a somewhat mixed character. The term is generally understood to +mean a professional fighter or man-killer, but who, despite this drawback, is said +by Roosevelt, in <i>Ranch Life in the Far West</i>, to be sometimes, according to his light, perfectly honest. These are the men who +do most of the killing in frontier communities; yet it is a noteworthy fact that the +men who are killed generally deserve their fate. These men are, of course, used to +brawling, and are not only sure shots, but, what is equally important, able to ‘draw’ +their weapon with marvellous quickness. They think nothing whatever of murder, and +are the dread and terror of their associates; yet they are very chary of taking the +life of a man of good standing, and will often ‘weaken’ <span class="pageNum" id="pb96">[<a href="#pb96">96</a>]</span>and ‘backdown’ at once if confronted fearlessly. With many of them their courage arises +from confidence in their own powers and knowledge of the fear in which they are held; +and men of this type often show the white feather when they get into a ‘tight place.’ +Others, however, will face any odds without flinching, and when mortally wounded, +have been known to fight with a cool ferocious despair that was terrible. During the +last two or three years, stockmen have united to put down these dangerous characters, +often by the most summary exercise of lynch law; and, as a consequence, many localities +once infested by <span class="sc">bad men</span> are now perfectly law-abiding. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad Match Twist</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (hairdressers’).—A man who has red, or carotty hair and black whiskers is said to +have a <span class="sc">bad match twist</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Badminton</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. A cooling drink; a kind of claret-cup, so called because invented at +the Duke of Beaufort’s seat of the same name. Composed of claret, sugar, spice, soda-water, +and ice. +</p> +<p class="cit">1845. <span class="sc">Disraeli</span>, <i>Sybil</i>, bk. I., ch. i. ‘Waiter, bring me a tumbler of <span class="sc">Badminton</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>Digby Grand</i>, ch. ix. An enormous measure of <span class="sc">Badminton</span>, that grateful compound of mingled claret, sugar, and soda-water. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Ouida</span>, <i>Under Two Flags</i>, ch. ix. Looking up out of a great silver flagon of <span class="sc">Badminton</span>, with which he was ending his breakfast. +</p> +<p>2. (pugilistic).—Blood; from the similarity in colour to the summer drink of the same +name. <span class="sc">Claret</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), for a like reason, is also, in the language of the prize-ring, synonymous with +blood. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad Record.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Record</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad Shot</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—An abortive attempt; a woman’s guess. +</p> +<p class="cit">1844. <span class="sc">Kinglake</span>, <i>Eothen</i>, viii., 137. I secretly smiled at this last prophecy as <span class="sc">a bad shot</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">Rev. E. Bradley</span> (‘Cuthbert Bede’) in <i>Notes and Queries</i>, 2 S., viii., p. 492. <span class="sc">A bad shot</span> is one of the worst exposures of his ignorance that a University man when up for +examination can make. +</p> +<p><i>See</i>, however, <span class="sc">Shot</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bad Slang</b>, <i>subs.</i> (circus and showmen’s).—Faked up monstrosities; spurious curiosities. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 206. Roderick Palsgrave was considered by all who knew him to be the best showman +of a <span class="sc">bad slang</span> that ever travelled. He would get hold of any black girl or woman, dress her up, +and then show her as one of the greatest novelties ever seen. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bag</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old slang).—1. A woman when <i>enceinte</i> was said ‘to have a <span class="sc">bag</span>.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">To bag</span>. Sense 3. +</p> +<p>2. (Westminster School).—Milk. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To empty the bag</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To tell, or disclose the whole truth; to wind up an argument or discussion. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To give the bag</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—1. Formerly used in varying senses. In the following quotation it conveys, +says Nares, the idea of chicanery and cheating. This, however, is doubtful, but compare +‘to give the bag to hold.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">Greene</span>, <i>Quip</i>, in <i>works</i> IX., 263. You shall be … lighte witted <span class="pageNum" id="pb97">[<a href="#pb97">97</a>]</span>upon every small occasion <span class="sc">to geue</span> your maister <span class="sc">the bagge</span>. +</p> +<p>2. In another respect <span class="sc">to give the bag</span> was used in a sense analogous to that conveyed in <span class="sc">to give the sack</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), <i>i.e.</i>, to dismiss a person from one’s employment, with this important difference that primarily +the ‘bag’ or ‘sack’ was not given by the master or mistress to the servant, but <i>vice versâ</i>, and, therefore, the expression meant ‘to leave without warning.’ This was the earliest +usage. +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <i>Defence of Conny Catching</i>, in Greene’s <i>works</i> XI., 86. If he meane to <span class="sc">giue her the bagge</span>, he selleth whatsoever he can, and so leaues hir spoild both of hir wealth and honestie. +</p> +<p class="cit">1647. <i>Speedy Hue and Crie</i>, I.… He being sometime an Apprentice on London Bridge … <span class="sc">gave his master the bag</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>Gradually the meaning of <span class="sc">to give the bag</span> changed to that which, even to-day, is dialectically current, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘to dismiss a person from one’s employment,’ though in large centres of population +<span class="sc">to give or receive the sack</span> is, at present, the more popular equivalent. While dealing with variations of this +kind, it is noteworthy that ‘bag’ was, in the seventeenth century, varied by ‘canvas,’ +as Shirley has it—— +</p> +<p class="cit">1652. <span class="sc">Shirley</span>, <i>The Brothers</i>, Act ii. I have promis’d him as much as marriage comes to, and I lose my honour, +if my don <span class="sc">receive the canvas</span>. +</p> +<p>Gifford and Dyce in a note say ‘the phrase is taken from the practice of journeymen +mechanics who travel in quest of work, with the implements of their profession. When +they are discharged by their masters, they are said to <span class="sc">receive the canvas</span>, or <span class="sc">the bag</span>; because in this their tools and necessaries are packed up, preparatory to their +removal.’ This suggested derivation would possibly pass muster were it not that, treated +historically, the phrase though identical in form is shown to have had an earlier +usage, and one, moreover, of an entirely antagonistic character; unless indeed, in +the first instance, it was customary for employers to find ‘bags’ of tools and working +implements for their employees, in which case the workman or servant in leaving his +work would naturally <span class="sc">give</span> the master <span class="sc">the bag</span>. The transition in sense which the phrase has undergone would then become perfectly +clear, as far as the why and wherefore of the change is concerned. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Sack</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To give one the bag to hold</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To leave in the lurch; to engage a person’s attention in order to deceive. +<i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">To give the bag</span>, sense 1. +</p> +<p class="cit">1793. <span class="sc">T. Jefferson</span>, <i>Writings</i> (1859), iv., 7. She will <span class="sc">leave</span> Spain <span class="sc">the bag to hold</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1823. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Peveril of the Peak</i>, vii. She <span class="sc">gave me the bag</span> to hold and was smuggling in a corner with a rich old Puritan. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">In the bottom of the bag</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—An expression equivalent to what, in modern slang, is termed ‘having a trump +card in reserve’; something in hand as a last resource or expedient. +</p> +<p class="cit">1659. <span class="sc">Reynolds</span>, in Burton <i>Diary</i> (1828), iv., 447. If this be done which is <span class="sc">in the bottom of the bag</span>, and must be done, we shall … be able to buoy up our reputation, [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb98">[<a href="#pb98">98</a>]</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">To let the cat out of the bag</span>, <i>phr.</i> (familiar).—To disclose a trick or secret.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Cat</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To put one in a bag</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—Usage and derivation explained, as far as known, in quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1662. <span class="sc">Fuller</span>, <i>Worthies, Cardigan</i> (ii., 579). They (the Welsh) had a kind of play wherein the stronger who prevailed +put the weaker into a sack; and hence we have borrowed our English by-word to express +such, betwixt whom there is apparent odds of strength. ‘He is able to <span class="sc">put him up in a bagge</span>.’ [<span class="sc">d.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1676. <span class="sc">Earl of Rochester</span>, <i>Hist. of Insipids</i>, st. 14. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Had haughty <i>Holms</i> but call’d in <i>Spragg</i>, </p> +<p class="line"><i>Hans</i> had been <span class="sc">put into a bag</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first"><span class="sc">To put or get one’s head in a bag</span>, <i>phr.</i> (printers’).—A ‘bag’ here signifies a pot of beer; hence, to drink. Also in use +amongst seafaring men. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Sat. Review</i>, 14 May, p. 700. It is slang, and yet purely trade slang, when one printer says of +another that he has <span class="sc">got his head in the bag</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To turn to bag and wallet</span> (old).—To become a beggar. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i> (popular).—1. To secure for oneself. Most probably a mere extension of the colloquial +sporting usage of to bag (properly, to put or enclose in a bag), in the sense of to seize, capture, entrap, +or otherwise bring within one’s reach. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Mortimer Collins</span>, <i>Thoughts in my Garden</i>, vol. I., p. 163. The word <i>beggar</i> itself is from <i>bag</i>—meaning a man who carries a bag; and modern commercial slang reproduces the phrase, +saying of a clever man of business that he has <span class="sc">bagged</span> a good thing. +</p> +<p>2. To steal; or to catch (a thief or man). Sometimes rendered by <span class="sc">to collar</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit"><span class="corr" id="xd33e15434" title="Source: 1881">1818</span>. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Fudge Family in Paris</i>, VI. Who can help <span class="sc">to bag</span> a few, When Sidmouth wants a death or two? +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <span class="sc">Farrar</span>, <i>St. Winifred’s</i>, ch. xxxv. They would not call it stealing but <span class="sc">bagging</span> a thing, or, at the worst, ‘cribbing it’—concealing the villainy under a new name. +</p> +<p>3. (old).—To beget; to conceive; to breed. Also <span class="sc">to be bagged</span>. This usage dates from about <span class="asc">A.D.</span> 1400, and was colloquial until about the middle of the seventeenth century. Warner +[in <i>Alb. Eng. VI.</i>, 148] has the line +</p> +<p class="cit">Well, Venus shortly <span class="sc">bagged</span>, and ere long was Cupid bred. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To get baggy</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—Said of clothes when loosened by the stretching which arises from wear +and tear. Trousers get <span class="sc">baggy</span> at the knees. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bag and Baggage</b>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To clear one out <span class="sc">bag and baggage</span> is to get quit of one entirely. A deprecatory expression indicating complete riddance. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bag and Bottle</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—Food and drink. The former from being carried in a bag as by beggars and vagrants; +the latter also being of similar derivation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">Eachard</span>, <i>Observations</i>. An ill-contriving rascal that in his younger years should choose to lug the <span class="sc">bag and the bottle</span> a mile or two to school; and to bring home only a small bit of Greek or Latin most +magisterially construed. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baggage.</b> <span class="sc">Heavy baggage</span>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—1. Women and children.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p>2. <span class="sc">Baggage</span> is also a familiar <span class="pageNum" id="pb99">[<a href="#pb99">99</a>]</span>colloquialism for a pert, saucy, young woman; like ‘wench,’ ‘rogue,’ ‘gypsy,’ it is +often used endearingly. +</p> +<p class="cit">1693. <span class="sc">Congreve</span>, <i>Old Batchelor</i>, I., iii. I believe the <span class="sc">baggage</span> loves me. +</p> +<p class="cit">1732. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>The Miser</i>, Act i., Sc. 9. Here’s a <span class="sc">baggage</span> of a daughter, who refuses the most advantageous match that ever was offered. +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <span class="sc">Alex. Smith</span>, <i>Dreamthorpe</i>, p. 12. And Beauty, who is something of a coquette … goes off in a huff. Let the +<span class="sc">baggage</span> go! +</p> +<p>3. (old).—A whore or strumpet; a woman of loose morals. +</p> +<p>4. (old).—Rubbish; ‘rot.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1575. <i>Touchstone of Complexions</i>, p. 118. For throughe cruditye and lacke of perfect concoction in the stomacke is +engendered great abundance of naughty <span class="sc">baggage</span> and hurtful phlegme. +</p> +<p class="cit">1576. <span class="sc">Gascoigne</span>, <i>The Steele Glas</i>, p. 79. When brewers put no <span class="sc">bagage</span> in their beere. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i> (old).—Used contemptuously of individuals and things. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Baggage</span>—a worthless, good-for-nothing woman. +</p> +<p class="cit">1593. <span class="sc">G. Harvey</span>, <i>Pierees Superero</i>, in <i>works</i> (Gresart) II., 273. Bibbing Nash, <span class="sc">baggage</span> Nash, swaddish Nash, rogish Nash, the bellweather of the scribling flocke. +</p> +<p class="cit">1692. <span class="sc">Hacket</span>, <i>Life of Williams</i>, ii., 128. For four cellars of wine, syder, ale, beer, with wood, hay, corn, and +the like, stored up for a year or two, he gave not account of sixpence, but spent +it upon <span class="sc">baggage</span>, and loose franions. <i>Ibid<span>.</span></i>, p. 123. Booth himself confest, in the hearing of those witnesses, that Pregion had +nothing to do with that <span class="sc">baggage</span> woman. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baggage-Smasher</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—1. A railway porter. The why and wherefore of this nickname is abundantly +apparent from the following quotations. +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <span class="sc">De Vere</span>, <i>Americanisms</i>, p. 358. The <span class="sc">baggage-smasher</span>, as the porter is commonly called, handles his burdens with appalling recklessness, +and responsibility there is none. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>New <span class="corr" id="xd33e15630" title="Source: Viginians">Virginians</span></i>, i., 37. ‘Called <span class="sc">baggage-smashers</span>.<span>’</span> [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Texas Siftings</i>, Nov. 3. Fashionable people who have spent the summer at the watering places or at +the seaside, but have now returned to the cities, assert that the <span class="sc">baggage-smasher</span> has become more destructive than ever. The <span class="sc">baggage-smasher</span> is indeed a terror. In fact there are two of them: the one who flits from station +to station and dumps your poor dumb trunk with force enough to drive piles in a government +breakwater, and the one who loiters around the depôt watching for his chance to shatter +your baggage. The depôt baggageman is the most culpable of the two species. In his +long and dark career of smashing trunks, he has, evidently, knocked the hoops off +his conscience, and there is no remorse brave, foolhardy and reckless enough to tackle +his heart-strings and play on them. +</p> +<p>2. Also a thief who hangs about ‘depôts,’ with a view to robbery of luggage. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <i>New York Tribune</i>, Nov. 23. Gamblers, ticket-swindlers, emigrant robbers, <span class="sc">baggage-smashers</span>, and all the worst classes of the city. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bagged</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (American).—A term used to signify imprisonment and victimization—probably only an +extension of the idea of capture as derived from sport, through the slang ‘to bag,’ +<i>i.e.</i>, to steal. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">To bag</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bagging</b>, <i>subs.</i> (provincial slang).—In the first instance, food taken between regular meals; now +generally applied, especially in Lancashire, to what is known in the South of England +as ‘high tea.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1750. <span class="sc">J. Collier</span>, in <i>Lancashire Glossary</i> (E.D.S.). Hoo’l naw cum agen till <span class="sc">baggin’ time</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <i>Chambers’ Journal</i>, Oct., p. 661. Lancashire adopts the whole-board or partial-board system very extensively. +The local term of <span class="sc">bagging</span> implies bread and cheese, or pies; and there are all <span class="pageNum" id="pb100">[<a href="#pb100">100</a>]</span>the varieties of board and lodging, dinner of potatoes and bacon with buttermilk, +<span class="sc">bagging</span> in the forenoon and afternoon, dinner and lunch, and rations allowed for women. +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. In <i>Temple Bar Mag.</i>, 4 Jan. <span class="sc">Baggin’</span> is not only lunch, but any accidental meal coming between two regular ones. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bagging the Over.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Jockeying the over</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bagman</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. A commercial traveller. Formerly of respectable usage; now only employed +contemptuously. +</p> +<p class="cit">1765. <span class="sc">Goldsmith</span>, <i>Essays</i>, I. The <span class="sc">bagman</span> was telling a better story. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Paris Sketch Book</i>, p. 20. When all the rest of mankind look hideous, dirty, peevish, wretched, after +a forty hours’ coach-journey, a <span class="sc">bagman</span> appears as gay and spruce as when he started. +</p> +<p>The term <span class="sc">bagman</span> took its rise in the saddle-bags in which the commercial traveller of the past century +carried his patterns and goods. These saddle-bags being of larger dimensions than +those usually carried by travellers on horseback, would designate the commercial traveller +<i lang="fr">par excellence</i> as <i>the</i> <span class="sc">bagman</span>. +</p> +<p>2. In sporting slang, a ‘bag-fox.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <span class="sc">Stonehenge</span>, <i>Brit. Sports</i>, I., II., iv., § 5. If … wild cubs cannot be found, a <span class="sc">bagman</span> or two must be obtained. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bagnio</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A brothel. [From Italian <i lang="it">bagno</i>, a bath, properly a hot bath; whence an application as in the case of <span class="sc">stew</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), for a house of prostitution.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1624. <span class="sc">Massinger</span>, <i>Parliament of Love</i>, II., ii. To be sold to a brothel or a common <span class="sc">bagnio</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>English Humour</i>, V. (1858), 243. How the prodigal drinks and sports at the <span class="sc">bagnio</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Wright</span>, <i>Domestic Manners in England during the Middle Ages</i>, 491. They were soon used to such an extent for illicit intrigues, that the name +of a hothouse or <span class="sc">bagnio</span> became equivalent to that of a brothel. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bag of Bones</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (familiar).—A lean, attenuated person; sometimes called a ‘walking skeleton.’ The +French have <i lang="fr">un sac à os</i> (often contracted into <i lang="fr">sacdos</i>)—a literal translation. The term is quite modern, being traced by Murray no further +back than 1838, when Dickens used it [in <i>Oliver Twist</i>, iv., 64]. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bag o’ Moonshine</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (common).—Nonsense.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">All moonshine</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bag of Nails</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (American thieves’).—A state of confusion or topsy-turveydom. [Qy. from ‘bacchanals.’] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bag of Tricks</b>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—Generally, <span class="sc">the whole bag of tricks</span>; <i>i.e.</i>, every expedient. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bagpipe</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A windy talker; a senseless chatter-box. The derivation is obviously from +the musical instrument of the same name. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i> (old).—A lascivious practice; too indecent for explanation. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bags</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—An ironical nickname for trousers, thought by some to be of University +origin, and borrowed from ‘the variegated bags’ of Euripides—<span class="trans" title="tous thylakous tous poikilous"><span lang="grc" class="grek">τους θυλάκους τους ποικίλους</span></span> (Cyclops., 182). +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Rev. E. Bradley</span> (‘Cuthbert Bede’), <i>Adventures of Verdant Green</i>, p. <span class="pageNum" id="pb101">[<a href="#pb101">101</a>]</span>51. Just jump into a pair of <span class="sc">bags</span> and Wellingtons. <i>Ibid<span>.</span></i>, p. 5. His black go-to-meeting <span class="sc">bags</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <i>Chambers’ Journal</i> (Christmas Number). ‘But, holloa!’ he cried, as he caught sight of his legs. ‘Parsons +don’t wear light tweed <span class="sc">bags</span>!’… Jack had to unpack his portmanteau and get out his evening inexpressibles. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">M. Collins</span>, <i>Frances</i>, ch. xv. His well-shapen hip and calf were hidden in loose-fitting <span class="sc">bags</span> of corduroy. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Punch</i>, Jan. 10, p. 6. <span class="sc">The spread of education and liberal ideas.</span>—<i>His Grace the Duke of Poplar and Bermondsey.</i> ‘Just look at these <span class="sc">bags</span> you last built me, Snippe! J’ever see such beastly <span class="sc">bags</span> in your life? I shall always be glad to come and dine with you, old man; but I’ll +be hanged if you shall ever measure me for another pair of <span class="sc">bags</span>!’ <i>Mr. Snippe</i> (<i>of Snippe and Son, St. James’s Street</i>). ‘You’ve <i>always</i> grumbled about your <span class="sc">bags</span>, as you call ’em, ever since you were my fag at Eton; and at Christchurch you were +just as bad, even though my poor dear old governor used to come all the way down and +measure you himself. It ain’t the fault of the <span class="sc">bags</span>, my dear Popsy—it’s the fault of the legs inside ’em! So, shut up, old Stick-in-the-mud, +and let’s join the ladies—the duchess has promised to give us “Little Billee.” ’ +</p> +<p>When made of startling material, or ‘cut’ in an exaggerated style of fashion they +become <span class="sc">howling bags</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> Dittoes; kicks; kicksies; bum-bags; sit-upons; unmentionables; continuations; hams; +inexpressibles; abridgements; drumstick-cases; and ducks (when made of white material). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Dalzar</i>; <i lang="fr">falzar</i>. +</p> +<p><i>Intj.</i> (schoolboy).—<span class="sc">Bags!</span> or <span class="sc">bags I!</span> is frequently used to assert a claim to some article or privilege. Analogous schoolboy +slang is <span class="sc">fains</span> or <span class="sc">fain it</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) for demanding a truce during the progress of a game, and which is always granted +by the opposing party. In other schools <span class="sc">pike I</span> or <span class="sc">prior pike</span> serve to lay claim to anything, or for asserting priority of claim. Also <span class="sc">bar!</span> <i>e.g.</i>, ‘He wanted me to do so and so, but I <i>barred</i> not.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Fain</span>, <span class="sc">Pike</span>, and <span class="sc">Bar</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To have the bags</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—This phrase is erroneously given by Hotten (and Barrère has followed suit), +as <span class="sc">to have the bags</span> <i>off</i>. The meaning is to be of age, and thus to possess all the rights and privileges of +adultship; also to have plenty of money. Obviously an allusion to the transition from +child’s attire to the garments of manhood. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Bags of mystery</span>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (common).—Sausages and saveloys are so called—from the often mysterious character +of their compounds. Presumably composed of minced ‘meat,’ but so highly flavoured +and seasoned that no man can tell whereof they are made. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To take the bags</span> (athletic).—To act as ‘hare’ in ‘Hare and Hounds,’ a game too well known to need +description in this place. +</p> +<p>(Stock Exchange).—<i>B</i>uenos <i>A</i>yres <i>G</i>reat <i>S</i>outhern Railway Bonds.—Formed from the initial letters, thus <i>B-A-G-S</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baijan.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bejan</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bail.</b> <span class="sc">Straw-bail</span> or <span class="sc">straw-shoes</span>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A nickname for a person willing for a consideration, to give evidence, +or act as bail. Formerly men were much more ostentatious in plying <span class="pageNum" id="pb102">[<a href="#pb102">102</a>]</span>a vocation of perjury than is now happily possible. It was no uncommon thing for such +openly to perambulate the entrances to the law-courts ready for any chance customer. +They made known their occupation by wearing a piece of straw just sticking out of +their shoes. The <i>Quarterly Review</i> (xxxiii., 344) points out that the practice is a very ancient one, Athens having +abounded in straw-shoes. The <i lang="la">modus operandi</i> was much the same then as in later days. When it was ‘desirable’ to season Attic +testimony with bribery and perjury, the scene outside a Greek court of justice might +be thus described. An advocate or lawyer who wanted a convenient witness knew by these +signs [the straws in the sandals] where to find one, and the colloquy between the +parties was brief. ‘Don’t you remember’ said the advocate—(the party looked at the +fee and gave no sign: but the fee increased and the powers of memory increased with +it). ‘To be sure I do!’ ‘Then come into the court and swear it.’ And <span class="sc">straw-shoes</span> went into the court and swore it. As <span class="sc">b.c.</span>, so <span class="asc">A.D.</span> 1754—before and after. +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Jonathan Wild</i>, book I., chap. ii. Charity took to husband an eminent gentleman whose name I cannot +learn; but who was famous for so friendly a disposition, that he was <span class="sc">bail</span> for above a hundred persons in one year. He had likewise the remarkable honour of +walking in Westminster Hall with a straw in his shoe. +</p> +<p>At present lawyers use <span class="sc">straw-bail</span> to designate insufficient bail. Closely allied to this term, and used much in the +same manner, is ‘a man of straw.’ The figure is the effigy of a man, stuffed with +straw; hence, ‘a man of straw,’ the semblance of a man—a person of neither substance +nor responsibility; or one put forward to screen a real delinquent. A curious usage, +akin to the foregoing, is also sometimes heard among sailors. For example, a strike +for wages having taken place amongst the crew of a ship, ‘<span class="sc">blacklegs</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>), or ‘straw-yarders’ as they were called in nautical phraseology, took the place +of the strikers. On the meaning of the expression being asked, it was explained that +a ‘straw-yarder’ was a man about the docks who had never been to sea, and knew little +or nothing of the duties of a seaman. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To give or take leg-bail</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To escape, either from arrest, or from prison; literally, to be indebted +to one’s legs for flight. For exhaustive list of synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Amputate</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1775. <span class="sc">Adair</span>, <i>American Indians</i>, 277. I had concluded to use no chivalry, but <span class="sc">give them leg-bail</span> instead of it, by … making for a deep swamp. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1815. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Guy Mannering</i>, ch. iii. ‘I e’en <span class="sc">gae them leg-bail</span>, for there’s nae ease in dealing wi’ quarrelsome fowk.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Poacher</i>, xxii. <span class="sc">Given them leg-bail</span>, I swear. +</p> +<p>The phrase is sometimes amplified thus:—<span class="sc">to take leg-bail and give land security</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bail Up!</b> also <b>Bale Up!</b> <i>intj.</i> (Australian).—A bushranger’s phrase for ‘stand and deliver’! ‘Shell out’! +<span class="pageNum" id="pb103">[<a href="#pb103">103</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Blackwood’s Mag.</i>, July, p. 91. [Australian <i>loq.</i>] ‘<span class="sc">Bail up! Bail up!</span>’ shout the two red-veiled attackers, revolvers in hand. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <span class="sc">G. L. Apperson</span>, <i>All the Year Round</i>, July 30, p. 68, col. 1. In times gone by, it was by no means an uncommon occurrence +[in Australia] for a coach to be ‘stuck up’ by a band of bushrangers, whose shouts +of <span class="sc">bail up</span>, an invitation equivalent to our ‘shell out,’ supported by revolver barrels, terrified +the hearts of the passengers. But a coach is now seldom interfered with, and to ‘stick +up’ is applied to less daring attempts to rob. +</p> +<p>2. Hence, colloquially, a demand for instant payment. Equivalent to the English <span class="sc">fork out! stump up!</span> etc. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Shell out</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bait</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Anger; rage; indignation. Derived from the figurative sense of ‘to bait,’ +<i>i.e.</i>, to worry; harass; or tease. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">F. Anstey</span>, <i>Vice-Versâ</i>, ch. v. ‘I went calmly on, smoking my cigar as if nothing was the matter. That put +the Proctor in a <span class="sc">bait</span>, I can tell you!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baitland</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—Admiral Smyth in his <i>Sailors’ Word Book</i> quotes this as ‘an old word, formerly used to signify a port where refreshments could +be procured.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bake</b>, <i>verb.</i> (Winchester College).—To rest, or lie down. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baked</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (common).—Collapsed; exhausted; done up; <i>e.g.</i>, ‘toward the end of the course the crew were regularly <span class="sc">baked</span>.’ A common colloquialism at the beginning of the present century; but the punning +idea involved is very ancient. <span class="sc">To bake one’s bread</span> in the sense of ‘to do for one’ occurs as early as 1380, as will be seen from the +following quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1380. <span class="sc">Sir Ferumb</span>, 577. For euere <span class="sc">my bred had be bake</span>; myn lyf dawes had be tynt. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Half-baked</span> (common) is said of a dull-witted or imbecile person, <i>i.e.</i>, one who is ‘soft’ or inexperienced, in contrast to one who is <span class="sc">baked</span> in the sense of ‘seasoned,’ quick-witted, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Notes and Queries</i>, 3 S., vi., 494, 2. He is only <span class="sc">half-baked</span>—put in with the bread, and taken out with the cakes. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A cushion. These were of two kinds; that used in ‘College’ +was of large size, oblong in shape, and green in colour. The other used in ‘Commoners’ +was thin, narrow, much smaller, and of red colour. The term <span class="sc">baker</span> is also applied to anything placed upon a form to sit upon, <i>e.g.</i>, a blotting book or other article; in short, anything comfortable to sit upon. +</p> +<p>(American).—A loafer. The word is generally attributed to Baron de Mandat Grancey, +who, in his work <i>Cowboys and Colonels</i>, innocently translated the word ‘loafer’ as <span class="sc">baker</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To spell baker</span> (colloquial).—To attempt a difficult task. In the old spelling books ‘baker’ was +frequently the first word of two syllables to which a child came when learning to +spell. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baker-Kneed</b>, also <b>Baker-legged</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—1. Knock-kneed; disfigured by crooked legs. This deformity, incident to +bakers, arising from the constrained position in which they knead bread, is said to +be the almost certain penalty of habitually bearing any burden of <span class="pageNum" id="pb104">[<a href="#pb104">104</a>]</span>bulk in the right hand, or of excessive force constantly exerted by the right side +of the body. The knees gradually incline inwards until they closely resemble the right +side of the letter K. +</p> +<p class="cit">1607. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Westward Hoe</i>, Act ii., Sc. 2. Will women’s tongues, like <span class="sc">bakers’ legs</span>, never go straight? +</p> +<p class="cit">1692. <span class="sc">L’Estrange</span>, <i>Life of Æsop</i>. Æsop … was … flat-nos’d, hunch-back’d, blabber-lipp’d, a long misshapen head; his +body crooked all over, big-belly’d, <span class="sc">baker-legg’d</span>, and his complexion so swarthy that he took his very name from ’t; for Æsop is the +same with Æthiop. +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <span class="sc">B. Martin</span>, <i>Eng. Dict.</i>, 2 ed. <span class="sc">Bakes-legg’d</span>, straddling, with the legs bowing outward. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">Colman</span>, <i>Poetical Vagaries</i>, p. 13. His voice had broken to a gruffish squeak. He had grown blear-eyed, <span class="sc">baker-kneed</span>, and gummy. +</p> +<p>2. Effeminate. Either an attributive usage of the foregoing, or an allusion to the +popular belief that a woman’s legs are never straight. Compared physiologically with +those of a man this is doubtless true; but otherwise most women would resent the imputation +as a libel. +</p> +<p class="cit">1652. <span class="sc">Gaule</span>, <i>Hagastrom</i>, 186. <span class="sc">Baker-kneed</span> signifies effeminate. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baker Layer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A Junior who used to take a prefect’s green <span class="sc">baker</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) in and out of ‘Hall’ at meal times. The term is now obsolete. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baker’s Dozen</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial).—Thirteen reckoned as twelve. Formerly, so careful were ‘the powers +that be’ regarding the supply of bread, that bakers were liable to heavy penalties +for any deficiency in the weight of loaves. So hedged in, indeed, was the sale of +bread, that the weight of loaves was fixed by law, for every price from eighteenpence +down to twopence, but penny loaves or rolls were not specified in the statute. Bakers, +therefore, when selling the latter, in order to be on the safe side, gave, for a dozen +of bread, an additional loaf, known as ‘inbread.’ A similar custom of giving extra +quantity was formerly observed with regard to coal, and publishers nowadays reckon +thirteen copies of a book as twelve. That the term <span class="sc">baker’s dozen</span> was thoroughly colloquial at the latter end of the sixteenth century is apparent +from the first of the following quotations: +</p> +<p class="cit">1596. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Saffron Walden</i>, in <i>works</i> III., ii. Conioyning with his aforesaid Doctor Brother in eightie eight browne <span class="sc">baker’s dozen</span> of Almanackes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1639. <i>Will</i> of Francis Pynner, of Bury, Gent., dated April 26 [Camden Society’s ‘Bury Wills’]. +The yerely sume of ffiue pounds p’cell of the said yerely rents to be bestowed in +wheaten bread, to be made into <i>penny</i> loaves, and upon eu’y Lord’s day, called Sonday, throughout eu’y yere of the said +terme [40 years or thereabouts], <i>fowre and twenty</i> loaves of the said bread, with the <i>inbread</i> allowed by the baker for those <i>twoe dosens</i> of bread, to be timely brought and sett vpon a forme towards the vpp’end of the chancell +of the said p’ish church of St. Marie, and … the same <i>twoe dosens</i> of bread to be giuen and distributed … to and amongst fowre and twentie poore people.… +And they, the said clarke, sexton, and bedell, shall alwaies haue the <i>inbread</i> of all the bread aforesaid ovr and besides their shares in the said twoe dosens of +bread. +</p> +<p class="cit">1733. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Don Quixote</i>, III., vi. I could not number them. I dare swear there were a good round <span class="sc">baker’s dozen</span>, at least. +</p> +<p class="cit">1825. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>St. Ronan’s Well</i>, ch. xxviii. ‘As to your lawyer, you get just your guinea’s worth from him—not even +so much as the <span class="sc">baker’s bargain, thirteen to the dozen</span>.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb105">[<a href="#pb105">105</a>]</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">Baker’s dozen</span> is occasionally used in a somewhat more figurative sense, and is not confined to +the technicalities of trade. It is employed to signify thirteen or fourteen. It is +so quoted in Grose (1785), but the usage is apparently much older than that, for Hudson, +the navigator, when he discovered the bay to which his name is given, designated a +cluster of thirteen or fourteen islands on the east shore of it. <span class="sc">The Baker’s Dozen</span>, as may be seen on the charts; and even French atlases exhibit these islands as <i lang="fr">La Douzaine du boulanger</i>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To give one a baker’s dozen</span> is to pummell a man well; to thrash him soundly—a humorous allusion to the good measure +implied by the phrase. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bakes</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—A schoolboy. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bakester</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—One who bakes (<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Bake</span>); a sluggard. The term is now obsolete. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baking Leave</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—Permission to <span class="sc">bake</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) in a study in ‘Commoners,’ or in a ‘scob’ place in College. In this sense the term +is obsolete; but it is now used of leave to sit in any other person’s ‘<span class="sc">toys</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>)—a sort of bureau. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baking Place</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A kind of sofa in ‘Studies’ of ‘Commoners.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Balaam</b>, <i>subs.</i> (journalistic).—A term applied to all kinds of miscellaneous matter, generally of +a trumpery and indifferent character, used as ‘padding’ in periodical publications. +Evidently from Numbers xxii., 30, in which the ass spoke ‘with man’s voice.’ <span class="sc">Balaam</span> hence denotes ‘the speech of an ass,’ and is well applied to the stupid jokes, and +silly paragraphs with which odd corners and short columns are often lengthened out. +Brewer claims an American origin, but Webster only calls it ‘a cant term.’ In any +case the term has clearly reference to nonsense to be thrown in to fill space, or +nonsense thrown out as refuse. The curious point in the story of Balaam is that the +ass talks like a philosopher and the prophet behaves like a donkey. The term was popularised +by its frequent use in <i>Blackwood’s Magazine</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1826. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Mal. Malagr.</i> iii., 3. How much <span class="sc">Balaam</span> (speaking technically) I have edged out of your valuable paper. +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Lochart</span>, <i>Scott</i>, lxx. (1842), 622. <span class="sc">Balaam</span> is the cant name for asinine paragraphs about monstrous productions of nature and +the like, kept standing in type to be used whenever the real news of the day leave +an awkward space that must be filled up somehow. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Balaam-Basket</b> or <b>Balaam-Box</b>, <i>subs.</i> (journalistic).—1. The receptacle for <span class="sc">Balaam</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p>2. When articles or other contributions are rejected they are put in the <span class="sc">Balaam-basket</span>, which may either be a pigeon-hole (to await return to the author); the waste paper +basket; or, as the readiest mode of extinction, the flames. In any case, the destination +is <span class="pageNum" id="pb106">[<a href="#pb106">106</a>]</span>said to be the <span class="sc">Baalam-basket</span> or <span class="sc">box</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1827. <i>Blackw. Mag.</i>, xxi., 340. Several dozen letters on the same subject now in our <span class="sc">Balaam-box</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1873. <span class="sc">Hall</span>, <i>Modern English</i>, p. 17. An essay for the <i>Edinburgh Review</i>, in ‘the old unpolluted English language,’ would have been consigned by the editor +to his <span class="sc">Balaam-basket</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Notes and Queries</i>, 5 S., vii., 270, 2. At the risk of getting into your <span class="sc">Balaam-box</span>, I venture to record the whole contents of my bundle as they lie before me. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Balaclava-Day</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—A soldier’s pay day. Balaclava, in the Crimean War [1854–6], was the +base of supply for the English troops; and, as pay was drawn, the men went down to +make their purchases. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Balance</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A <span class="sc">balance</span> properly is that which balances or produces equilibrium. It is the difference between +two sides of an account—the amount of which is necessary to make the one equal to +the other. It is not the rest or the remainder, yet we continually hear of the <span class="sc">balance</span> of this or that thing. In the sense of ‘rest,’ ‘residue,’ or ‘remainder,’ <span class="sc">balance</span> is the purest slang. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846. <i>Albany Journal</i>, Jan. 7. The yawl returned to the wreck, took ten or eleven persons and landed them, +and then went and got the <span class="sc">balance</span> from the floating cabin. [<span class="sc">b.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <i>Boston Transcript</i>, Dec. 27. ‘We listened to Wendell Phillips for about half an hour, and having an +<span class="corr" id="xd33e16601" title="Source: engagment">engagement</span> elsewhere, we were forced to leave, and so lost the <span class="sc">balance</span> of his oration.’ [<span class="sc">de v.</span>] +</p> +<p>The word is thus used very much like the Scottish <i>lave</i> (what is left), employed by Burns in the line— +</p> +<div class="lgouter"> +<p class="line">‘I’ll get a blessing with the <i>lave</i>, </p> +<p class="line">And never miss it.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first">In some parts of Virginia the word ‘<i>shank</i>’ is quaintly used for the same purpose, and one friend will say to another, ‘Suppose +you come in and spend the <i>shank</i> of the evening with me?’ The vulgarism is becoming common in England, as witness +the following:— +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <i>Blackwood’s Magazine</i>, April, 443. <span class="sc">Balance</span>, long familiar to American ears, is becoming so to ours. In an account of a ship +on fire we read ‘Those saved remained the <span class="sc">balance</span> of the night watching the burning wreck.<span>’</span> [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">P. Fitzgerald</span>, <i>Recreations of a Literary Man</i>, 170. Everyone is away shooting or riding; a <span class="sc">balance</span> of the ladies is left. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Balbus</b>, <i>subs.</i> (University).—A Latin prose composition. In Arnold’s well-known text book, <i>Latin Prose Composition</i>, <span class="sc">balbus</span> turns up at every corner; he is here, there, and everywhere; he appears to be willing +and able to do anything, and go anywhere; in fact it is <span class="sc">balbus</span> this, and <span class="sc">balbus</span> that, until the wonder is whether <span class="sc">balbus</span> was not something of a prig or bore, or both. At all events those who used the text +book in question, cannot fail to remember that doughty old fossil of a Roman to their +dying day. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <i>Quarterly Review.</i> <span class="sc">Balbus</span> was in constant use. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Balderdash</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. Adulterated wine; a mixture of liquors such as wine and beer, milk and +beer, etc. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb107">[<a href="#pb107">107</a>]</span></p> +<p>2. (colloquial).—Frothy talk; nonsense; a jumble of words. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <span class="sc">Murray</span>, <i>New English Dictionary</i>, Art. <span class="sc">Balderdash</span>, vol. I., p. 633, col. 3. From the evidence at present, the inference is that the +current sense was transferred from 1 or 2 [<i>i.e.</i>, Froth, frothy liquid, or a jumbled mixture of liquids] either with the notion of +‘frothy talk,’ or of ‘a senseless farrago,’ or ‘jumble of words.’ Most etymologists +have, however, assumed 3 [nonsense; frothy talk, etc.] to be the original sense, and +sought its explanation in the obvious similarity of <i>balder</i> to dialectical <i>balder</i>, ‘to use coarse language’; Dutch, <i lang="nl">balderen</i>, ‘to roar, thunder’; Norwegian, <i lang="no">baldra</i>; Icelandic, <i lang="is">baldrast</i>, <i lang="is">ballrast</i>, ‘to make a clatter,’ and of <i>-dash</i> to the verb <i>dash</i> in various senses. The Welsh <i>baldorddus</i>, adj., <i>f.</i> <i>baldordd</i>, ‘idle, noisy talk, chatter,’ has also been adduced.… Other conjectures may be found +in Wedgwood, Skeat, and E. Müller. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bald-Face</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—New whiskey; so villainous is the compound, that only by courtesy can +it be recognised as at all approaching the Simon Pure. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bald-Faced Shirt</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—In cowboy lingo, a white shirt; from the fact of being white on the face +or front. Ordinarily bald-face is used of animals, <i>e.g.</i>, a <span class="sc">bald-faced stag</span>. Hereford cattle, too, have white faces, and as cowboys are brought into close contact +with all kinds of cattle, the term as applied to a linen shirt is possibly a mere +transference in sense. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Boiled shirt</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bald-Faced Stag</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A bald-headed man; [from <span class="sc">bald-faced</span>, having white on face + <span class="sc">stag</span>, a slang term for a man. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Stag party</span>.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Bladder of lard</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baldheaded.</b>—<span class="sc">To go it baldheaded</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—With eager impetuosity, or great haste; to do a thing with all one’s +might and main. A suggestion of action without stopping to cover one’s head, <i>i.e.</i>, on the spur of the moment. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848–62. <span class="sc">J. R. Lowell</span>, <i>Biglow Papers</i>, p. 6. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">It ain’t by princerples nor men </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">My preudunt course is steadied,— </p> +<p class="line">I scent which pays the best, an’ then </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Go into it <span class="sc">baldheaded</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1869. <i>Our Young Folks.</i> Whenever he had made up his mind to do a thing he <span class="sc">went at it baldheaded</span>. [<span class="sc">de v.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>, June 22. The Chicago Republicans, to use an Americanism, have gone <span class="sc">baldheaded</span> for protection. If shouting could win a Presidential contest, Blaine and Protection +would be certain. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To snatch baldheaded</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—To defeat a person in a street fight. +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <span class="sc">R. Grant White</span>, <i>Words and Their Uses</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The crowd than gave a specimen of calumny broke loose, </p> +<p class="line">And said I’d <span class="sc">snatched him baldheaded</span>, and likewise cooked his goose. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bald-Headed Row</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (American).—The first row of stalls at theatres, especially those which make a feature +of ballets. The term is a cynical allusion to the fact that these seats are generally +occupied by men of mature age; the innuendo is obvious.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Frog-salad</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Balditude</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A state of baldness. Probably a nonce word. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">S. L. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn</i>, p. 187. Trouble has done it, Bilgewater, trouble has done it; trouble has brung +these gray hairs and this premature <span class="sc">balditude</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb108">[<a href="#pb108">108</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Baldober</b> or <b>Baldower</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A leader; a head man; a spokesman. This term has been imported into the +lingo of English thieves from the German Gaunersprache, in which it has very much +the same meaning. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Balductum</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Nonsense; rubbish. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Balderdash</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baldy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A colloquial vulgarism for a bald-headed man. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Balditude</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Balfour’s Maiden</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Parliamentary).—A nickname given to a kind of covered battering-ram used by the +Royal Irish Constabulary in carrying out evictions in Ireland in the years 1888–9. +On many estates the tenants made most desperate resistance to all attempts on the +part of the landlords to recover possession, upon which the latter appealed for, and +obtained the assistance of the authorities. This but served to intensify the struggle, +and the tenants, driven to extremities, in some cases resisted all endeavours, even +to throwing boiling water over the soldiers and police employed against them. To protect +the evictors, and also to render easier the demolition of the cabins of the wretched +people, a kind of covered battering-ram was made, whereupon the Home Rule Party sarcastically +gave it, amongst other nick-names, that of <span class="sc">Balfour’s maiden</span>. The term was first used by Sir Wm. Harcourt in a speech at a monster Home Rule meeting, +held at St. James’s Hall, on Wednesday, April 10, 1889. An account of the incident +runs as follows:— +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Daily News</i>, April 11. Resolute government has not been absolutely extinguished. Now at Letterkenny, +Mr. Balfour has introduced a new invention, the latest development of resolute government. +The Government were questioned on the subject, and they accepted the responsibility +for the facts. It stated that in view of the Olphert estate evictions, there reached +there an iron-headed spiked battering-ram to be used in carrying out the evictions. +Why, really, gentlemen, when you read of these things they are like the pictures one +sees of the Siege of Jerusalem—(loud laughter)—of the implements, which the Latins +called <i lang="la">tormenta</i>. We are familiar with them in old mediæval castles. You find instruments called ‘The +Scavenger’s Daughter,’ and ‘The Maiden,’ and other implements of that character. I +think this last pattern of ram of Mr. Balfour’s might be called ‘The Unionist’s Daughter’—(loud +laughter)—or it might be christened ‘<span class="sc">Balfour’s Maiden</span>.’ (Cheers and laughter.) But not to deprive the Liberal Unionists of their share +we might call it ‘Chamberlain’s Tenants’ Protector.’ (Renewed merriment.) +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ball</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—1. A prison ration. 2. A drink. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To open the ball</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To commence an undertaking; to start off. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <i>Eton Chronicle</i>, July 20. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">… Whatever may seem the mishaps of his team, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Whatever their failings and sinnings, </p> +<p class="line">He who <span class="sc">opened the ball</span> and who saw them all fall, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Scarce deserved that defeat in one innings. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Ballad-Basket</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A street singer.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Street pitcher</span>. A French equivalent is <i lang="fr">un braillard</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ballambangjang</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—The Straits of <span class="sc">Ballambangjang</span>, though unnoticed by geographers, are frequently mentioned in sailors’ yarns as being +so narrow, and the rocks on each side so crowded with trees <span class="pageNum" id="pb109">[<a href="#pb109">109</a>]</span>inhabited by monkeys, that the ship’s yards cannot be squared, on account of the monkey’s +tails getting jammed into, and choking up, the brace blocks.—<i>Hotten.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ballast</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Money. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Actual</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Well-ballasted</span>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—A rich man is said to be <span class="sc">well-ballasted</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> ‘To be flush’; also ‘to have brass; brads,’ etc. <i>See</i> synonyms for money generally under <span class="sc">Actual</span>. +</p> +<p>Among French equivalents for the solidity arising from the possession of wealth may +be mentioned:—<i lang="fr"><span id="xd33e17012">Être</span> zingué</i> (popular: literally ‘to be covered with zinc’); <i lang="fr">avoir des monacos</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">monaco</i> is an ironical term for a sou); <i lang="fr">daim huppé</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">daim</i>, a slang term for a swell, is properly a ‘buck,’ and <i lang="fr">huppé</i> also signifies high in station, well-off); <i lang="fr">homme au sac</i> (familiar: ‘a man with a bag,’—presumably of money); <i lang="fr">avoir des picaillons</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">picaillons</i> is thought to be a corruption of <i lang="fr">picarons</i>, a Spanish coin); <i lang="fr">être de la fête</i> (popular: <i>i.e.</i>, ‘to be in luck’s way’); <i lang="fr">être sacqué</i> (popular: meaning obvious); <i lang="fr">rupin</i> (thieves’ term); <i lang="fr">avoir de ce qui sonne</i> (popular: ‘to have that which chinks’); <i lang="fr">tailler en plein drap</i> (popular). +</p> +<p>In the Spanish Germania a rich or <span class="sc">well-ballasted</span> man is <i lang="de">florido</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘flowery’ or ‘agreeable.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ball Face</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A contemptuous epithet applied by negroes to white persons. Salem, Mass., +1810–1820. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ball-Keeper</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—In ‘Commoners’ an ‘Inferior’ appointed to look after cricket +and footballs. In return for this service he was exempted from ‘kicking in’ and ‘watching +out.’ ‘Junior in College’ has to bring through balls every evening.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Balls</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ball of Fire</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (popular).—A glass of fiery and pungent brandy. For all synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ballooning</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Stock Exchange).—Inflating the price of stocks by fictitious means, such as newspaper +articles, bogus sales, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Balloon It</b>, <i>verb.</i> (American).—To indulge in rhodomontade; to draw the long bow; to talk big. Obviously +from ‘to puff or swell out’ as a balloon. +</p> +<p class="cit">1878. <span class="sc">T. Sinclair</span>, <i>Mount</i>, 33. Gas-brained, <span class="sc">ballooning</span> wandering men. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ball O’ Wax</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A snob, or shoe-maker.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Snob</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Balls.</b> <span class="sc">To bring through balls</span>, <i>phr.</i> (Winchester College).—‘Junior in College’ collects footballs from the lockers in +school, and brings them through at six o’clock to be blown, or repaired, if necessary. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To make balls of</span>, <i>verb. phr.</i> (popular).—To go wrong; to do what ‘lands’ one in trouble; generally, to make a mistake. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">All balls</span>, <i>adv.</i> (popular).—All rubbish; nonsense. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">All my eye</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ballum Rancum</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A hop or dance, where the women <span class="pageNum" id="pb110">[<a href="#pb110">110</a>]</span>are all prostitutes; a dance at a brothel. These orgies sometimes take the form of +‘buff-balls,’ all present dancing in the nude. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bally</b>, <i>adj.</i> (popular).—A comparatively recent coinage, it is said, of the <i>Sporting Times</i>, from ‘bally-hooly.’ Generally, though not always, used as is ‘bloody,’ in the lower +strata of the body politic. It also signifies intensity, and in cases where the vocabulary +at command is limited, <span class="sc">bally</span> does yeoman’s service for such words as ‘fearful,’ ‘dreadful,’ ‘terrible,’ ‘outrageous,’ +‘confounded.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Sporting Times</i>, July 6 (Answers to Correspondents). H. G. Steele.—Thanks. What a <span class="sc">bally</span> idiot you must be. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Bird o’ Freedom</i>, Aug. 7, p. 5. Newman Noggs, bringing small boy to carry master’s bag, and inculcating +manners at the same time, ‘Now, what would you say if I was to give you sixpence for +taking it?’ ‘I should say ’twasnt half enough, and you can <span class="sc">bally</span> well take it yourself,’ was the prompt reply. Boys are boys nowadays, and no error, +thinks Newman. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bally-Bounder.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bally</span> and <span class="sc">Bounder</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bally-Fellow.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bounder</span> and <span class="sc">Bally</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bally Flat.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bounder</span> and <span class="sc">Bally</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bally Fool.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bounder</span> and <span class="sc">Bally</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ballyrag.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bullyrag</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Balm</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A lie.—<i>Duncombe.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Balmy</b>, <i>subs.</i> and <i>adj.</i> (common).—Sleep; sleepy. [From the figurative sense of <span class="sc">balmy</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, deliciously soft and soothing.] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To have a dose of the balmy</span>; <i>i.e.</i>, ‘to go to sleep.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Old Curiosity Shop</i>, ch. viii., p. 42. ‘As it’s rather late, I’ll try and get <span class="sc">a wink or two of the balmy</span>.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> To doss; to go to <span class="sc">Bedfordshire</span> (<i>q.v.</i>)—a play upon words. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">La pionce</i> or <i lang="fr">pionçage</i> (popular: <i>subs.</i>, <i>see</i> <i lang="fr">pioncer</i>); <i lang="fr">le somno</i> (popular: an abbreviated form of <i lang="fr">somnolence</i>); <i lang="fr">piquage de romance</i> (a military term); <i lang="fr">casser une canne</i>, or <i lang="fr">sa canne</i> (popular: this also means ‘to die.’ In French as in other languages the analogy between +Sleep and Death is fully recognised. Many of the French slang phrases for the former +are also used to express the latter. <i lang="fr">Mors janua vitæ!</i>); <i lang="fr">casser son pif</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">pif</i> in French argot = ‘the nose.’ Amongst the peasants of Normandy and Berry it signifies +a ‘grog-blossom’); <i lang="fr">pioncer</i> (popular: from <i lang="fr">piausser</i>, a provincialism for ‘to sleep’); <i lang="fr">piquer un chien</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">piquer</i> a canting verb of action, ‘to do’; therefore ‘to do as a dog’); <i lang="fr">piquer une romance</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">faire son lézard</i> (popular: <i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="fr">piquer un chien</i>); <i lang="fr">faire son michaud</i> (thieves’: <i>i.e.</i>, ‘to rest one’s head or knowledge box’); <i lang="fr">roupiller</i> (this term is in general colloquial use); <i lang="fr">se recueillir</i> (popular: ‘to wrap oneself in meditation’); <i lang="fr">compter des pauses</i> (musicians’: ‘to count the beats.’ <i>Cf.</i>, various suggested remedies <span class="pageNum" id="pb111">[<a href="#pb111">111</a>]</span>for overcoming insomnia; <i>e.g.</i>, counting slowly up to a hundred, etc., etc.); <i lang="fr">taper de l’œil</i> (popular: ‘to rub the eyes.’ <i>Cf.</i>, English ‘to have sleepy dust in one’s eyes’); <i lang="fr">mettre le chien au cran de repos</i> (popular: ‘to curl oneself up like a dog’); <i lang="fr">souffler ses clairs</i> (popular: ‘to blow or put out one’s light,’ <i>i.e.</i>, ‘to shut the eyes’); <i lang="fr">fermer maillard</i> (popular: to close one’s shutters, <i>i.e.</i>, eyelids. Maillard was the inventor of a particular kind of shutter. Other analogous +expressions are <i lang="fr">être terrassé par maillard</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘to be extremely sleepy.’ Sleep is expressed by <i lang="fr">fermeture</i>); <i lang="fr">faire schloff</i> or <i lang="fr">schloffer</i>, from the German <i lang="de">schlafen</i>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Spanish Synonym.</span> In the Germania <i lang="es">difunto</i>, properly ‘defunct,’ is used for asleep. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">A Portuguese Synonym</span> for sound sleep is <i lang="pt">a bom sornar</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘to sleep on both ears.’ +</p> +<p>2. Dull-witted; thick-skulled. In this sense <span class="sc">balmy</span> is used up and down the whole gamut of imbecility from mere stolidity to downright +insanity. Popularly used, it signifies in most cases little more than shallow-brained +or muddle-headed; or, to use slang equivalents in their most familiar sense, ‘to be +touched,’ ‘to be wrong in the upper story,’ ‘dotty.’ Among thieves, however, it is +usually applied to insanity, <span class="sc">to put on the balmy stick</span> being, among convicts, to feign madness. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. I., p. 231. List of patterers’ words. <span class="sc">Balmy</span>—Insane. +</p> +<p>A large number of synonyms will be found under <span class="sc">apartments to let</span>, but in addition to those there mentioned may be instanced the following in the French +slang:—<i lang="fr">Demenager</i> (popular: ‘to remove one’s furniture.’ It also means ‘to die’); <i lang="fr">paumer la sorbonne</i> (<i>i.e.</i>, <span id="xd33e17474">‘</span>to punch the head,’ <i lang="fr">sorbonne</i> being a slang term for that part of the human body. The Sorbonne is a well-known +university and seat of learning. Among thieves, too, <i lang="fr">sorbonner</i> is used in the sense of ‘to think’); <i lang="fr">être un peu toc</i> (<i>i.e.</i>, slightly crazy; <i lang="fr">toc</i> in slang = ridiculous); <i lang="fr">avoir une pomme de canne felée</i> (popular: a rather opprobrious expression, meaning ‘to have a slate off.’ <i>Cf.</i>, ‘to have a tile loose’); <i lang="fr">avoir une fissure</i> (literally ‘to have a crack’); <i lang="fr">avoir un grain</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Balmy Cove</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A weak-minded individual; one who has ‘a tile loose.’ [From <span class="sc">balmy</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">cove</span>, a man.] Among French thieves such an individual is called <i lang="fr">un hurlubier</i> (<i lang="fr">hurlublu</i> is an obsolete term used jestingly for a giddy goose or hair-brained person); also +<i>biscayen</i> from the <i>Bicêtre</i> prison which has a lunatic ward for demented convicts. The prison itself is <span class="corr" id="xd33e17528" title="Source: calle">called</span> <i lang="fr">La Biscaye</i>, but this name has no connection with the province of Biscay as might be supposed. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Balsam</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’ and popular).—One of the many generic names for money. A full list of synonyms +will be found under <span class="sc">Actual</span>. The allusion of course is obvious, <i>i.e.</i>, a healing soothing agent or agency; but, in its secondary signification of impertinence, +<span class="pageNum" id="pb112">[<a href="#pb112">112</a>]</span>‘brass,’ ‘cheek,’ etc<span>.</span>, the reverse of the shield is given. Such reversals in the legitimate meanings of +words are not uncommon in slang. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bam</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old slang).—1. A cheat; an imposition; a story intended to hoax the credulous; what +nowadays generally goes under the name of chaff or humbug [<span class="sc">bam</span> is thought to be an abbreviated form of <span class="sc">bamboozle</span> (<i>q.v.</i>)]. Murray has traced it back to 1762, but it appears nearly twenty years previous +in Dyche’s dictionary, and also in Martin’s, the second edition of which was published +in 1754.—<i>See</i> verb <span class="sc">To bam</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Bam</span> (<span class="sc">s.</span>), a sham or pretence, a lying excuse. +</p> +<p class="cit">1762. <span class="sc">Foote</span>, <i>Orators</i>, Act ii. Why I know that man, he is all upon his fun; he lecture—why ’tis all but +a <span class="sc">bam</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1817. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Rob Roy</i>, ch. ix. ‘It’s all a <span class="sc">bam</span>, ma’am—all a bamboozle and a bite, that affair of his illness.’ +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To hoax, to bamboozle; to wheedle; to cheat. [Of same formation as substantive, which +see above, and <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bamboozle</span>.] The first trace of it appears in Cibber’s <i>Double Gallant</i> [1707], and is discussed by Swift in his introduction to <i>Polite Conversation</i> [1738], where he mentions among ‘the exquisite refinements’ then in vogue,—<span class="sc">bam</span> for bamboozle, and bamboozle for, God knows what. Whereupon a correspondent of <i>Notes and Queries</i> [2 S., Jan. 10, ’57, p. 31] alluding to the despair of etymologists in regard to +these words remarked that if <i>from</i> was put in the place of <i>for</i>, it would describe the predicament in which philologists are placed. +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <span class="sc">H. Martin</span>, <i>Eng. Dict.</i>, 2 ed. <span class="sc">To bam</span>, or <span class="sc">to bamboozle</span>, to fun, to fib, to sham. +</p> +<p class="cit">1760. <span class="sc">Colman</span>, <i>Polly Honeycombe</i>, in <i>wks.</i> (1777) IV., 43. Lord, how well he behaves! We shall certainly <span class="sc">bam</span> the old gentleman. +</p> +<p class="cit">1830. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>King’s Own</i>, ch. xlix. ‘Now, you’re <span class="sc">bamming</span> me—don’t attempt to put such stories off on your old granny.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">E. L. Linton</span>, <i>Patricia Kemball</i>, ch. xxxix. For a moment the thought flashed across him whether ‘that tale of Gordon +Frere was all a <span class="sc">bam</span>, and had the girl taken a liking for himself?’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bamblustercate</b>, <i>verb.</i> (nonce-word).—A factitious creation signifying to embarrass; confuse; or hoax in +a blustering manner. [From <span class="sc">bam</span>, to hoax, or confuse + <span class="sc">bluster</span>, noisy assertion + <span class="sc">cate</span>, a termination in imitation of ‘conglomerate’.]—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Comflogisticate</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bamboo</b>, <i>verb.</i> (American).—A corruption of bamboozle. To cheat; to victimize; to hoax.—<i>See</i>, however, <span class="sc">Bam</span> and <span class="sc">Bamboozle</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bamboozle</b>, <i>verb.</i> (familiar).—To hoax; deceive; or impose upon. Philologists are all confessedly at +sea in regard to the derivation of <span class="sc">bamboozle</span> and its attributive forms, but the general tendency of evidence is to refer it to +a gypsy origin. Johnson states it to be a cant word; and Bouchier, in his glossary +says, ‘it has with great propriety long had a place in the gypsy or canting dictionaries,’ +it being in his opinion ‘the sole invention of gypsies or vagrants.’ Leland thinks +it ‘possibly’ the Hindu word <i>bambhorna</i>, to humbug, with the gypsy terminative <span class="pageNum" id="pb113">[<a href="#pb113">113</a>]</span><i>āsel</i>. Wedgwood suggests its origin in the Italian <i lang="it">bamboccio</i>, a young babe, and metaphorically an old dotard or babyish gull; <i lang="it">imbambolare</i>, to blear or dim one’s sight, also with flatteries and blandishments, to inveigle +and make a fool of one. If a verb were made of <i lang="it">bambocciolo</i> in the same way as <i lang="it">bambocciolare</i>, it would have much the sense of <span class="sc">bamboozle</span>. A. E. Quekett (<i>N. and Q.</i>, 5 S., xii., 488) throws a side-light upon this last theory by pointing out that +in Shakspeare’s <i>Taming of the Shrew</i>, Katharina says, ‘Belike you mean to make a puppet of me,’ and Petruchio replies, +‘Why true; he means to make a puppet of thee.’ Comparing this passage with the rest +of the scene it would seem that Petruchio’s answer is not a mere repetition of Katharina’s +words, but contains a <i>double entendre</i> of some kind. He (Quekett) then hazards that perhaps she meant to say, ‘Perhaps you +mean to treat me as a doll without a will of its own,’ while Petruchio appears to +mean something very like<span id="xd33e17742">,</span> ‘He wishes to <span class="sc">bamboozle</span> you.’ +</p> +<p>Be all this as it may, <span class="sc">bamboozle</span> first came into vogue during the early part of the last century; for in the <i>Tatler</i> No. 230 [1710], we read, ‘The third refinement observable in the letter I send you +consists in the choice of certain words invented by some pretty fellows, such as banter, +<span class="sc">bamboozle</span>, country-put, and kidney, some of which are now struggling for the vogue, and others +are in possession of it’! +</p> +<p>So also with the derivatives; <i>e.g.</i>, <span class="sc">bamboozle</span> (<i>subs.</i>); <span class="sc">Bamboozled</span>; <span class="sc">bamboozlement</span>; <span class="sc">bamboozler</span>; <span class="sc">bamboozling</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1703. <span class="sc">Cibber</span>, <i>She Would and She Would Not</i>, II., i. (1736), 34. Sham proofs, that they propos’d to <span class="sc">bamboozle</span> me with. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1709. <span class="sc">Steele</span>, <i>Tatler</i>, No. 31. But, says I, sir, I perceive this is to you all <span class="sc">bamboozling</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1712. <span class="sc">Arbuthnot</span>, <i>History of John Bull</i>, pt. III., ch. vi. There are a sort of fellows that they call banterers and <span class="sc">bamboozlers</span>, that play such tricks; but it seems these fellows were in earnest! +</p> +<p class="cit">1731. <span class="sc">Coffey</span>, <i>Devil to Pay</i>, Act i., Sc. 3. You juggler, you cheating, <span class="sc">bamboozling</span> villain! +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <span class="sc">Foote</span>, <i>Knights</i>, Act ii. You are tricked, imposed on, <span class="sc">bamboozled</span>! +</p> +<p class="cit">1779. <span class="sc">R. Cumberland</span>, <i>Wheel of Fortune</i>, Act ii., Sc. 1. You know I love you, Emily, … and therefore you baffle and <span class="sc">bamboozle</span> and make a bumpkin of me. +</p> +<p class="cit">1817. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Rob Roy</i>, ch. ix. ‘It’s all a bam, ma’am—all a <span class="sc">bamboozle</span> and a bite, that affair of his illness.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1827. <span class="sc">Lytton</span>, <i>Pelham</i>, ch. xxxvi. ‘One does not like to be <span class="sc">bamboozled</span> out of one’s right of election, by a smooth-tongued fellow, who sends one to the +devil the moment the election is over.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Sat. Review</i>, No. 1587, p. 423. The public is a great <span class="sc">bamboozable</span> body. +</p> +<p>(Nautical).—To decoy the enemy by hoisting false colours—merely an extension of the +popular sense. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> ‘To throw dust in the eyes’; ‘to use the pepper-box’; ‘to gild the pill’; ‘to throw +a tub to a whale’; ‘to make believe the moon is made of cream cheese’; ‘to jockey’; +‘to stick’; ‘to bilk’; ‘to do’; ‘to best’; ‘to do brown’; ‘to bounce’; ‘to take in’; +‘to kid’; ‘to gammon.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Une monteuse de coups</i> (a woman who bamboozles her lovers); <i lang="fr">monter des couleurs</i> (popular: ‘to deceive <span class="pageNum" id="pb114">[<a href="#pb114">114</a>]</span>by false representations<span>’</span>; <i lang="fr">couleur</i> signifies ‘pretence,’ ‘semblance’); <i lang="fr">faire la queue à quelqu’un</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">tirer la carotte</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">faire voir le tour</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">canarder</i> (popular: literally ‘to shoot at one from a sheltered position’; <i>i.e.</i>, to have an advantage, and thus to be able to hoax or humbug); <i lang="fr">dindonner</i> (popular: from <i lang="fr">dindon</i>, a ‘goose’); <i lang="fr">faire le coup</i>, or <i lang="fr">monter le coup à quelqu’un</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">coup</i> in French slang is ‘a secret process,’ ‘a knack’ or ‘dodge’—hence ‘to deal one an +underhand blow,’ or ‘to serve one a trick’); <i lang="fr">empaler</i> (popular: ‘to deceive by false representations’; literally ‘to empale’); <i lang="fr">passer des curettes</i> (popular: ‘to make a fool of one’); <i lang="fr">monter une gaffe</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">gaffe</i> in French slang = ‘a joke’; a piece of deceit); <i lang="fr">monter le job</i> or <i lang="fr">jobarder</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">job</i> is equivalent to ‘simpleton’ or ‘flat,’ and is the same as <i lang="fr">jobelin</i>); <i lang="fr">mener en bateau un pante pour le refaire</i> (thieves’: ‘to deceive a man in order to rob him’); <i lang="fr">monter un batteau</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">donner un pont à faucher</i> (thieves’: ‘to lay a trap or snare’); <i lang="fr">promener quelqu’un</i> (popular: ‘to make a fool of one.’ <i>Cf.</i>, ‘to rush’); <i lang="fr">compter des mistouffles</i> (familiar: <i lang="fr">mistouffle</i> = ‘a scurvy trick’; ‘a joke’); <i lang="fr">gourrer</i> (popular: ‘to stick’; ‘to kid’; ‘to deceive’); <i lang="fr">affluer</i> (from <i lang="fr">à flouer</i>, ‘to cheat’; ‘to diddle out of’); <i lang="fr">roustir</i> (popular and thieves’: ‘to cheat’); <i lang="fr">affûter</i> (thieves’: ‘to make unlawful profits’); <i lang="fr">bouler</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">juiffer</i> (popular: literally ‘to Jew’ as in English); <i lang="fr">pigeonner</i> (familiar: ‘to do,’ ‘to pluck.’ In English slang the victims of card and other sharpers +are called ‘pigeons’); <i lang="fr">flancher</i> (popular: ‘to laugh at’ or ‘ridicule’); <i lang="fr">faire la barbe</i> (popular: <i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="fr">faire la queue</i>); <i lang="fr">hisser un gandin</i> (thieves’: literally ‘to hoist a dandy’ or ‘swell’); <i lang="fr">mettre dedans</i> (popular: to take a rise out of one; literally to ‘take in’); <i lang="fr">être l’autre</i> (popular: <i>Cf.</i>, <span id="xd33e18020">‘</span>to get left.’ The phrase also signifies ‘to be the lover,’ the mistress); <i lang="fr">planter un chou</i> (familiar). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">German Synonyms.</span>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Jockey</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Italian Synonyms.</span> <i lang="it">Traversare</i> (literally ‘to cross over’); <i lang="it">dar la stolfa</i>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Spanish Synonym.</span> <i lang="es">Encantar</i> (literally ‘to enchant,’ ‘to entertain with soft words’). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bambosh</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nonce word).—Apparently a variation of <span class="sc">bamboozling</span>, as follows. [<span class="sc">Bam</span> + <span class="sc">bosh</span>.] Humbug; deceit; hoaxing. +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <i>Day of Rest</i>, Oct., 585. I was deaf to all that <span class="sc">bambosh</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bambsquabbled.</b>—This coined word, which is, however, rarely used except in humorous writings, first +saw the light in <i>The Legend of the American War</i>. It signifies discomfiture and defeat, or stupefaction; sometimes written <span class="sc">bumsquabbled</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835–40. <span class="sc">T. C. Haliburton</span> (‘Sam Slick’), <i>The Clockmaker</i>, 2 S., ch. ii. The judge said, ‘He had got too much already, cut him off the other +two-thirds, and make him pay all costs.’ If he didn’t look <span class="sc">bumsquabbled</span> it’s a pity. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Banaghan.</b> <i>He beats Banaghan</i>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—An Irish saying of one who tells wonderful stories; Banaghan, thought Grose, +was a minstrel famous <span class="pageNum" id="pb115">[<a href="#pb115">115</a>]</span>for dealing in the marvellous—a kind of prototype of Baron Munchausen. Of this, deponent +knowing nothing, says the same. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Banagher</b>, <i>verb<span>.</span></i> (old).—To bang. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bananaland</b>, <b>Bananalander</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Australian).—Queensland, and a native of Queensland respectively. Apparently from +a large portion of that section of the fifth continent lying within the tropics, thus +allowing of the cultivation of the banana tree (<i lang="la">Musa sapientum</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Chamb. Journal</i>, Feb. 20, p. 124. Booted and spurred ‘Cornstalks’ and <span class="sc">Banana-men</span> (natives of New South Wales and Queensland respectively). +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Melbourne</i> (Victoria) <i>Sportsman</i>, 23 March, p. 7, col. 2. Paddy Slavin came from Queensland with the reputation of +having beaten all the <span class="sc">Bananalanders</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Sydney</i> (N.S.W.) <i>Bulletin</i>, 26 Feb., p. 6. His friends rallied up to congratulate him, and see him through, +after the custom of the simple <span class="sc">Bananalander</span>. +</p> +<p>It may be interesting to note that a native of New South Wales is nicknamed a ‘<span class="sc">cornstalk</span>’ because built somewhat tall and thin. Those whose stature is shorter, with circumference +of wider dimensions in proportion to their height are said to be ‘<span class="sc">nuggety</span>.’ The gum trees of Tasmania give the elegant nickname ‘<span class="sc">gumsucker</span>’ to its inhabitants. In this practice antipodean colonists follow suit with their +cousins across the Atlantic.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Nicknames</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Banco</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Charterhouse School).—Evening preparation down at ‘house’ each day, superintended +by a monitor. It answers to the Winchester <span class="sc">toy-time</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Banco-Steerer.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bunco-steerer</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bandanna</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Formerly a silk handkerchief with white, yellow, or other coloured spots +on a dark ground. Now applied to handkerchiefs of all kinds. The name is thought to +come from the Spanish <i lang="es">bandano</i>, a neckerchief. +</p> +<p class="cit">1752. <span class="sc">J. Long</span>, <i>Bengal</i> (1870), 31. Plain taffaties, ordinary <span class="sc">bandannoes</span>, and chappas. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Newcomes</i>, ch. iv. The Colonel was striding about the room in his loose garments, puffing his +cigar fiercely anon, and then waving his yellow <span class="sc">bandanna</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Banded</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (old).—Hungry. To mitigate the pangs of hunger, starving men tighten the belt round +the ‘middle.’ Bamfylde Moore Carew, the king of the beggars, mentions the practice. +<i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Caffre’s tightener</span> and <span class="sc">bands</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bandero</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—Widows’ weeds; a corruption of the now obsolete ‘bandore,’ a widow’s +head-dress. <span class="sc">Bandore</span> was itself a corruption of the French <i lang="fr">bandeau</i>, given by Littré as <i lang="fr">anciennement, coiffure des veuves</i>. The term was current about the beginning of the last century, but in 1785 we find +it quoted as slang. It appears, however, to have survived in America whilst dropping +entirely out of use in the Mother Country. In the English drapery trade mourning goods +are sometimes called <span class="sc">afflictions</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ban-Dog</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A bailiff, or his assistant. Originally, says <span class="pageNum" id="pb116">[<a href="#pb116">116</a>]</span>Murray, a dog tied or chained up either to guard a house, or on account of its ferocity; +hence generally a mastiff or bloodhound. The transition from this point to the slang +sense is clear. +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Jack Sheppard</i> [1889], p. 12. ‘But where are the lurchers?’ ‘Who?’ asked Wood. ‘The traps!’ responded +a bystander. ‘The shoulder-clappers!’ added a lady, who, in her anxiety to join the +party, had unintentionally substituted her husband’s nether habiliments for her own +petticoats. ‘The <span class="sc">ban-dogs</span>!’ thundered a tall man whose stature and former avocations had procured him the nickname +of ‘The long drover of the Borough market.’ ‘Where are they?’ ‘Ay. where are they?’ +chorused the mob, flourishing their various weapons, and flashing their torches in +the air; ‘we’ll sarve ’em out.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bands</b>, <i>subs.</i> <span class="sc">To wear the bands</span> (old cant).—To be hungry.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Banded</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>B. and S.</b> (popular).—An everyday colloquialism, in the abbreviated form, for brandy and soda. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>White Rose</i>, ch. xiii. Before the <span class="sc">b. and s.</span>—signifying a beaker of brandy and soda-water—could make its appearance. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <span class="sc">W. Black</span>, <i>Beautiful Wretch</i>, ch. v. ‘Come away, and I will get you some tea, though what would be better for +you still, would be some <span class="sc">b. and s.</span>’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Punch</i>, vol. LXXXII., p. 69, col. 1. +</p> +<div class="lgouter"> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line">I’ll sing you a fine new song, all about a fine young spark, </p> +<p class="line">Who’s a fine young London gentleman, quite up to any lark, </p> +<p class="line">Who takes supper very early, and breakfasts in the dark; </p> +<p class="line">Who’s a real ‘dear old chappie,’ as I needn’t perhaps remark. </p> +</div> +<p class="tb">* * *</p> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line">He will say that port and sherry his nice palate always cloy; </p> +<p class="line">He’ll nothing drink but ‘<span class="sc">b. and s.</span>’ and big magnums of ‘the </p> +<p class="line">boy’; </p> +<p class="line">He’s the darling of the barmaid and the honest waiter’s joy, </p> +<p class="line">As he quaffs his Pommery, ‘Extra Sec,’ his ‘Giesler,’ or ‘Ivroy.’ </p> +</div> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bandy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A sixpence; so called, in the first instance, from these coins being +often thin, worn, and bent. Also called a <span class="sc">cripple</span> and <span class="sc">bender</span>, but, for synonyms, see the latter. The term appears in Grose [1785]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">T. Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial</i>, p. 25, <i>n.</i> A <span class="sc">bandy</span> or <i>cripple</i>, a sixpence. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Household Words</i>, June 20, p. 155. The sixpence is a coin more liable to bend than most others, so +it is not surprising to find that several of its popular names have reference to this +weakness. It is called a <span class="sc">bandy</span>, a ‘bender,’ a ‘cripple.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bang</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial).—1. A blow; Old Norse, <i>bang</i>, a hammering. Though a dictionary word, <span class="sc">bang</span> has not yet succeeded in passing from the limbo of vulgarism in many of its uses. +For example, a ‘<span class="sc">bang</span> of the door’ sounds legitimate enough, and is an expression to which even the most +pronounced stickler for linguistic purity would scarcely object; yet, a ‘<span class="sc">bang</span> on the nose’ or ‘jaw’ would, doubtless, be looked upon as low and vulgar. Only to +illustrate such variations, can the word find a fitting entry into these pages. Amongst +pugilists and the vulgar, <span class="sc">bang</span> is, without doubt, closely identified with personal castigation; and, in this connection<span id="xd33e18383">.</span> +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms</span> are not rare. To <span class="sc">bang</span> one in the jaw; to spoil one’s picture; to give a wipe on the nose; to fetch <span class="pageNum" id="pb117">[<a href="#pb117">117</a>]</span>one a stinger, etc. The blow itself is designated a whopper; wipe; clout; prop; cant; +dig; corker; shooting stars (in allusion to the dazed condition of a person so struck, +stars being seen dancing before one’s eyes). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Un gnon</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">un écopage</i> (familiar); <i lang="fr">une dandine</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">un cabochon</i> (common); <i lang="fr">un estaffion</i> (popular: may be rendered ‘a <span class="sc">bang</span> on the nut’); <i lang="fr">un coup de gilquin</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">un renfoncement</i> (colloquial: ‘a blow with the fist’; lit. ‘an indentation’); <i lang="fr">une beugne</i> (common); <i lang="fr">une beigne</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">une dariole</i> (familiar: properly a kind of pastry); <i lang="fr">un coup de tampon</i> (popular: ‘a hard shove’; <i lang="fr">tampon</i>, ‘a buffer’); <i lang="fr">une balle de coton</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">une baffre</i> (popular: ‘a blow in the face with the fist’); <i lang="fr">un pétard</i> (familiar: either ‘a box on the ear’ or ‘a cant on the gills’); <i lang="fr">une paraphe</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">paraphe</i> is properly the flourish added to one’s signature); <i lang="fr">dégrader le portrait à quelqu’un</i> (popular: ‘to fetch one a <span class="sc">bang</span> in the mug.’ <i>Cf.</i>, ‘to spoil one’s picture’); <i lang="fr">détacher un coup de pinceau sur la frimousse</i> (popular: ‘to make pencil marks upon the face’; <i>i.e.</i>, ‘to spoil one’s physiognomy,’—the allusion presumably being to the face as the work +of the Divine Artist). For other synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Wipe</span>. +</p> +<p>2. A style adopted by women in dressing the hair upon the forehead, generally curled +and frizzed, the process being thus described. To make the <span class="sc">bang</span>, one must begin by dividing the front hair at half-inch distances from ear to ear, +combing the rest back. This is repeated until the whole front hair has been successfully +<span class="sc">banged</span>. In England these fringes are also called <span class="sc">toffs</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">W. D. Howell</span>, <i>The Undiscovered Country</i>, ch. viii. When one lifted his hat to wipe his forehead, he showed his hair cut in +front like a young lady’s <span class="sc">bang</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>, Dec. 19, p. 4, col. 1. It was no doubt unfortunate that when the Empress Eugenie +cut her hair across her forehead from sorrow of heart, the women of five continents +should imitate her until the <span class="sc">bang</span> became universal. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—1. To deliver a blow as described under <span class="sc">bang</span> (<i>subs.</i> 1); generally, to thump or strike violently; to thrash. +</p> +<p class="cit">1588. <i>Marprelate’s Epistle</i>, p. 4 (ed. Arber). His grace will cary to his grave I warrant you the blowes which +M. Cartwright gave him in this cause: and, therefore, no marvell though he was loth +to have any other so <span class="sc">banged</span> as he himselfe was to his woe. +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">John Day</span>, <i>Blind Beggar</i>, Act ii., Sc. 2, p. 37. I am sure my cloak cannot go without hands; and I’ll have +it again, or I’ll <span class="sc">bang</span> it out of the coxcombs of some of them. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>b.</i> 1719. <span class="sc">H. Carey</span>, <i>Sally in our Alley</i>, st. 3. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">My master comes, like any Turk, </p> +<p class="line">And <span class="sc">bangs</span> me most severely. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1731. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>The Lottery</i>, Sc. 2. Ah, think, my lord! how I should grieve to see your lordship <span class="sc">bang’d</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. II., p. 47. ‘It was good stuff and good make at first, and hasn’t been abused, +and that’s the reason why it always <span class="sc">bangs</span> a slop, because it was good to begin with.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Cornhill Mag.</i>, April, p. 442. ‘Davis,’ said Toddy, ‘you haven’t had a <span class="sc">banging</span> this term, and you’re getting cocky.’ +</p> +<p>2. To dress the hair with a fringe on the forehead, cut squarely across, so that it +ends abruptly. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb118">[<a href="#pb118">118</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Century Mag.</i>, XXV., 192. He was bareheaded, his hair <span class="sc">banged</span> even with his eyebrows in front. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Detroit Free Press.</i> +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">Bang</span>, Sister, <span class="sc">bang</span> with care; </p> +<p class="line">If your poker’s too hot you’ll lose your hair. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">3. To surpass; to excel. So also <span class="sc">banging</span>, <i>adj.</i>, great or thumping. +</p> +<p>4. (Stock Exchange.)—To loudly offer stock with the intention of lowering the price. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To be banged up to the eyes</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To be drunk. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Screwed</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bang-Beggar</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A constable or beadle. It is not quite clear whether this is not merely a +dialecticism. In Lowland Scotch it signifies a strong staff. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Banger</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A lie. Generally, <span class="sc">that’s a banger</span>! This elegant phrase is sometimes varied by ‘that’s a <span class="sc">whopper</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>); or the now classical ‘<span class="sc">thumper</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>), an invention of the late Lord Iddesleigh. +</p> +<p>(Yale College).—A club-like cane or stick; a bludgeon. This word is one of the Yale +vocables.—<span class="sc">Hall’s</span> <i>College Words and Customs</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Yale Lit. Mag.</i>, vol. XX., p. 75. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The Freshman reluctantly turned the key, </p> +<p class="line">Expecting a Sophomore gang to see, </p> +<p class="line">Who, with faces masked and <span class="sc">bangers</span> stout, </p> +<p class="line">Had come resolved to smoke him out. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bang-Off</b>, <i>adv.</i> (familiar).—Without stopping; right away; <i>e.g.</i>, ‘I wrote as promised <span class="sc">bang-off</span>,’ <i>i.e.</i>, without delay. [From <span class="sc">bang</span>, a loud, sudden sound + <span class="sc">off</span>, movement from a place or thing.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bang-Out.</b> <span class="sc">To bang-out</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (common).—To depart hurriedly and with noise. +</p> +<p><i>Adv. phr.</i>—Completely, entirely, combined with suddenness; <i>e.g.</i>, ‘the candle went <span class="sc">bang-out</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bang-Pitcher</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A drunkard. Possibly only dialectical. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bangster</b> <i>subs.</i> (provincial).—According to Jamieson:—1. A violent and disorderly person, who regards +no law but his own will. 2. A victor. 3. A braggart. 4. A loose woman. +</p> +<p class="cit">1820. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>The Abbot</i>, ch. xix. If the Pope’s champions are to be <span class="sc">bangsters</span> in our very change houses, we shall soon have the changelings back again, [<span class="sc">h.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1825. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>St. Ronan’s Well</i>, ch. xxiii. If you are so certain of being the <span class="sc">bangster</span>—so very certain, I mean, of sweeping stakes, what harm will Miss Clara come to by +your having the use of her siller. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bang-Straw</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A nickname for a thresher of corn; a provincialism. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bang-Tailed</b>, <i>adj.</i> (popular).—Short tailed. Usually applied to horses. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Hughes</span>, <i>Tom Brown at Oxford</i>, ch. vi. ‘These <span class="sc">bang-tailed</span> little sinners any good?’ said Drysdale, throwing some cock-a-bondies across the +table. ‘Yes, I never like to be without them and a governor or two.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bang-Up</b>, <i>adj. phr.</i> (common).—First-rate; quite up to the mark; A 1; slap up; in the height of fashion. +Also <span class="sc">banged-up</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">H. and J. Smith</span>, <i>Rejected Addresses</i>, p. 188. Dance a <span class="sc">bang-up</span> theatrical cotillion. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb119">[<a href="#pb119">119</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1842. <span class="sc">Lever</span>, <i>Jack Hinton</i>, ch. vii. His hat set jauntily on one side, his spotted neckcloth knotted in <span class="sc">bang-up</span> mode. +</p> +<p class="cit">1844. <i>Quarterly Review</i>, XXIV., 368. We could not resist giving a specimen of John Thorpe … altogether the +best portrait of a species which, though almost extinct, cannot yet be quite classed +among the <span class="corr" id="xd33e18790" title="Source: Palœotheria">Palæotheria</span>, the <span class="sc">bang-up</span> Oxonian. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>V. Fair</i>, vol. I., ch. xxxiv. There appeared on the cliff in a tax cart, drawn by a <span class="sc">bang-up</span> pony … his friends, the Sutbury Pet and the Rottingdean Fibber. +</p> +<p><i>Subs.</i>—Also used substantively as in the following example; that which is quite right; the +‘thing’; the ‘go.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Punch</i>, LXXXII., 185, 1. <i>Modern Life in London</i>, or <i>Tom and Jerry back again</i>. The trio turned into the <span class="sc">Arcade</span>, and saw a number of <i>gay sparks</i> and <i>fair ones</i> promenading. ’Twas a curious sight, a glimpse of <span class="sc">Life in London</span>, one of its primest features, and yet, as the <span class="sc">Corinthian</span> remarked to his Coz, these people seemed like the ‘<i>ghosts</i> of a former generation.’ ‘These then are the <i>dandies</i>, the <i>fops</i>, the <i>goes</i> and the <span class="sc">bang-ups</span>, these the <span class="sc">Corinthians</span> of to-day,’ was also Tom’s exclamation to young Bob, who said, ‘I don’t know about +being <span class="sc">Corinthians</span>, but some of these <i>fellows</i> are very ‘good form,’ and as to being <span class="sc">bang-up</span>, a good many poor old <i>chappies</i> are deuced <i>hard-up</i>.’ +</p> +<p><i>Verb tr.</i>—To make smart; produce in first-rate style. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">Coombe</span>, <i>Dr. Syntax, Tour</i> iii., c. v. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Pat to his neckcloth gave an air </p> +<p class="line">In style, and <i lang="fr">á la militaire</i>; </p> +<p class="line">His pocket too a kerchief bore </p> +<p class="line">With scented water sprinkled o’er; </p> +<p class="line">Thus <span class="sc">banged-up</span>, sweeten’d, and clean shav’d, </p> +<p class="line">The sage the dinner-table braved. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bangy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—‘Brown’ sugar. From Bangalore, a once coarse-growing sugar +country. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i>—Colour of brown sugar; <i>e.g.</i>, <span class="sc">bangy bags</span>, brown trousers. These were also called <span class="sc">bangies</span>. So universally was the term <span class="sc">bangy</span> used to designate a brownish hue, that a gate of that colour at Winchester College, +formerly leading from Grass Court into Sick House Meads, was called the <span class="sc">Bangy</span> Gate. The name is now often used for the gate by Racquet Court, into Kingsgate Street. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Banian-Days</b> or <b>Banyan-Days</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—Those days in which sailors have no flesh meat. Probably derived from +the practice of the Banians, a caste of Hindoos, traders or merchants, who entirely +abstained from all animal food. +</p> +<p class="cit">1690. <span class="sc">Ovington</span>, in Yules’ <i>Anglo-Indian Glossary</i>. Of kitcheney (butter, rice, and dai) the European sailors feed in these parts, and +are forced at such times to a Pagan abstinence from flesh, which creates in them an +utter detestation to those <span class="sc">banian-days</span> as they call them. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Rod. Random</i>, ch. xxv. They told me that on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, the ship’s company +had no allowance of meat, and that these meagre days were called <span class="sc">banyan-days</span>, the reason of which they did not know; but I have since learned they take their +denomination from a sect of devotees in some parts of the East Indies, who never taste +flesh. +</p> +<p class="cit">1820. <span class="sc">Lamb</span>, <i>Elia</i> (<i>Christ’s Hospital</i>). We had three <span class="sc">banyan</span> to four meat <span class="sc">days</span> in the week. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Newcomes</i>, ch. lxiii. If he might be so bold as to carry on the Eastern metaphor, he would +say, knowing the excellence of the Colonel’s claret and the splendour of his hospitality, +that he would prefer a cocoanut day at the Colonel’s to a <span class="sc">banyan-day</span> anywhere else. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>. [From Strolling Players’ bill.] <span class="sc">Wooldridge’s Theatre.</span> Wanted 700 men, to man that splendid first-class, Frigate, ‘The Theatre,’ commanded +by A. J. Wooldridge, now lying at her moorings, in Cheapside. Mr. Wooldridge, with +all due respects to his brother Tars, hopes they will lend a hand to man his Vessel. +He cannot <span class="pageNum" id="pb120">[<a href="#pb120">120</a>]</span>offer them a barrel of Ale, but he will make them a promise of his unfeigned thanks +and gratitude for this and past favours, with his hearty good wishes for the prosperity +of the Town and Trade of Brighton; that his Shipmates, wherever bound, may set sail +with fair wind and good passage; that they may never have short allowance—<span class="sc">banyan days</span>; or a southerly wind in the Bread Basket. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Banjo</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A bed-pan; also called a <span class="sc">fiddle</span> or <span class="sc">slipper</span> (<i>q.v.</i>)—the latter from an improved shape which allows of its being slipped in without disturbing +the patient. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bank</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A lump sum of money; one’s fortune. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (thieves’).—1. To secure; to obtain (in a pilfering sense). +</p> +<p>2. To put in a place of safety. +</p> +<p>3. To go shares; to divide fairly with confederates. +</p> +<p>4. (prison.)—Millbank prison. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Answers</i>, May 25, p. 412. We approached our destination, Millbank—the <span class="sc">bank</span> in a convict’s parlance. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bankers</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Clumsy boots and shoes; now called beetle-crushers. For synonyms generally, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Trotter-cases</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bank Shaving</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (American<span class="corr" id="xd33e19028" title="Not in source">)</span>.—Before banks were regulated by Act of Congress, a practice prevailed among the least +reputable of such institutions of purchasing notes of hand and similar documents at +enormously usurious rates of discount. Many were the facilities for sharp practice +of every kind. Such banks were called <i>shaving banks</i>, and the unfortunate wretch who thus ‘raised the wind’ was said to <span class="sc">get his paper shaved</span>. The origin of the phrase may be looked for in maritime nomenclature, a shaver from +a sailor’s point of view being a man who is cute and unscrupulous—possibly from the +unpleasant operation of shaving on board ship when crossing the line. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bankside Ladies</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—Ladies of more complaisance than virtue. <span class="sc">Bankside</span>, Southwark, was once the fashionable theatrical quarter of London. There stood once +the Globe, the Swan, the Rose, and the Hope theatres. On the boards of the first-named +originally appeared most of Shakspeare’s plays. In Old London the neighbourhoods of +the principal theatres appear to have been noted for anything but vestal virtue. Covent +Garden and Drury Lane, like <span class="sc">Bankside</span>, have entered largely into the vicious slang of the past. +</p> +<p class="cit">1638. <span class="sc">Randolph</span>, <i>Muses’ Looking-Glass</i>, O. Pl., 9., 206. Come, I will send for a whole coach or two of <span class="sc">Bankside ladies</span>, and we will be jovial. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bank-Sneak</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A variety of the <i>genus</i> thief who confines his attention to bank robberies. Smart, clever, well-dressed, +they usually work in gangs, two or three confederates being employed as cover whilst +the leader does the work. In large towns considerable finesse is exhibited by these +men in effecting their purpose; but in the more thinly populated districts polish +and <i>ruse</i> are abandoned in favour of more drastic methods. The <span class="sc">bank-sneak</span> of the West pursues his depredations more as a bandit; his city <i>confrère</i> is more adroit, and therefore infinitely more dangerous. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Area-sneak</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb121">[<a href="#pb121">121</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Daily Inter-Ocean</i>, Feb. 16. Buffalo officers to-day picked out from a batch of Erie convicts Watt N. +Jones, the notorious <span class="sc">bank-sneak</span> and burglar so widely known professionally in every city of the United States and +Canada. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Banner</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American news-boys’).—The money paid for board and lodging at the homes frequented +by these flying mercuries. The origin of the term is unknown. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bant</b>, <i>verb</i> (common.)—To follow the dietary prescribed by Mr. Banting.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Banting</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Banting</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A course of diet by which fat people seek to reduce their bulk. It consists +in strictly discarding as food all articles known to favour the development of adipose +tissue. It was introduced about the year 1864 by a Mr. W. Banting—hence the name. +The dietary recommended was the use of butcher’s meat principally, and abstinence +from beer, farinaceous food, and vegetables. Also figuratively, to reduce in any way. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Times</i>, 12 Aug., 4. The classics seemed to have undergone a successful course of <span class="sc">banting</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Only a Clod</i>, p. 114. She was a rigid disciplinarian of the school formed by Mr. <span class="sc">Banting</span>. <i>Ibid<span>.</span></i>, p. 113. A parlour where all the furniture seemed to have undergone a prolonged course +of <span class="sc">banting</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Knowledge</i>, 27 July, p. 49, col. 2. <span class="sc">Bantingism</span> excludes beer, butter, and sugar. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bantling</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A young, or small child. This word, once slang, is now a received dictionary +word. It is stated in <i>Bacchus and Venus</i> [1737], and by Grose, to be a cant term. It was formerly synonymous with bastard. +Appended are a few examples of its use when knocking for admittance at the doors of +the dictionaries. +</p> +<p class="cit">1593. <span class="sc">Drayton</span>, <i>Eclog.</i>, vii., 102. Lovely Venus … smiling to see her wanton <span class="sc">bantlings</span> game. +</p> +<p class="cit">1635. <span class="sc">Quarles</span>, <i>Emblems</i>, II., viii. (1718), 93. <i>See</i> how the dancing bells turn round … to please my <span class="sc">bantling</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Rod. Random</i>, ch. xlvii. ‘That he may at once deliver himself from the importunities of the mother +and the suspense of her <span class="sc">bantling</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1751. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Peregrine Pickle</i>, ch. lxxx. ‘Let the <span class="sc">bantlings</span>,’ said she, ‘be sent to the hospital … and a small collection be made for the present +support of the mother.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1758. <span class="sc">Goldsmith</span>, <i>Essays</i>, x. Who follow the camp, and keep up with the line of march, though loaded with <span class="sc">bantlings</span> and other baggage. +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. xxi. ‘Sell me to a gipsy, to carry pots, pans, and beggars <span class="sc">bantlings</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Banty</b>, <i>adj.</i> (American thieves’).—Saucy; impudent. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baptised</b> or <b>Christened</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (old).—Mixed with water; spirits and wines are said to be <span class="sc">baptised</span> when diluted. The French equivalent is <i lang="fr">chrétien</i>; also <i lang="fr">baptisé</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1636. <span class="sc">Healey</span>, <i>Theophrastus</i>, 46. He wil give his best friends his <span class="sc">baptized</span> wine. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bar</b>, <i>verb</i> and <i>prep.</i> (colloquial and racing).—1. Used as a verb <span class="sc">bar</span> signifies to exclude; to prohibit; also to object to a person or action. Its lineage +is of undoubted respectability, but its usage is now but little removed from the vulgar. +As a preposition it is synonymous with ‘except’—mainly used in racing; <i>e.g.</i>, ‘Four to one <span class="sc">bar</span> one.’ +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1598. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>M. of Venice</i>, ii., 2, 207. Nay, but I <span class="sc">bar</span> to-night: <span class="pageNum" id="pb122">[<a href="#pb122">122</a>]</span>you shall not gauge me by what we do to-night. +</p> +<p class="cit">1672. <span class="sc">Wycherley</span>, <i>Love in a Wood</i>, wks. III. (1712), 382. That were as hard as to <span class="sc">bar</span> a young parson in the pulpit, the fifth of November,—railing at the Church of Rome. +</p> +<p class="cit">1697. <span class="sc">Vanbrugh</span>, <i>Æsop</i>, Act ii. What I have in my mind, out it comes: but <span class="sc">bar</span> that; I’se an honest lad as well as another. +</p> +<p class="cit">1752. <span class="sc">Foote</span>, <i>Taste</i>, Act ii. I don’t suppose now, but, <span class="sc">barring</span> the nose, Roubiliac could cut as good a head every whit. +</p> +<p class="cit">1818. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Rob Roy</i>, ch. iii. ‘I should like to try that daisy-cutter of yours upon a piece of level +road (<span class="sc">barring</span> canter) for a quart of claret at the next inn.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Pickwick</i>, ch. lv., p. 483. ‘I’ll bet you ten guineas to five, he cuts his throat,’ said Wilkins +Flasher, Esquire. ‘Done,’ replied Mr. Simmery. ‘Stop! I <span class="sc">bar</span>,’ said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps he may hang himself.’ +</p> +<p>2. (American thieves’.)—To stop; to cease. Obviously an attributive meaning of the +legitimate word. +</p> +<p>3. (American colloquial.)—A spurious verb, the signification of which is derived from +the drinking-bar. Thus a tippler is said <span class="sc">to bar</span> too much when given to inordinate drinking. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baragan Tailor</b>, <i>subs.</i> (tailors’).—A rough-working tailor. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barb</b>, <i>verb</i> (old cant).—<span class="sc">To barb</span> gold was heretofore a cant term for clipping or shaving it. The modern term is <span class="sc">to sweat</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). [Apparently from to <span class="sc">barber</span>, to shave or trim.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1610. <span class="sc">Ben Jonson</span>, <i>Alchemist</i>, I., i. Ay, and perhaps thy neck within a noose, for laundring gold, and <span class="sc">barbing</span> it. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barber</b>, <i>verb.</i> (University).—When impositions are worked off by deputy they are said to be <span class="sc">barberised</span>. Tradition relates that a learned barber was at one time frequently employed as a +scapegoat in working off this species of punishment inflicted on peccant students—hence +the expression. A story <i lang="it">ben trovato esd non e vero</i>! +</p> +<p><span class="sc">That’s the barber.</span>—A street catch-phrase, says Grose, about the year 1760. There is nothing new under +the sun; not even idiotic and wearisome street cries, which so many good philologists +deplore as a sign of the depravity of the times. <span class="sc">That’s the barber</span>, like ‘Who’s your hatter?’ and ‘How’s your poor feet?’ meant nothing, save a general +and indefinite comment on any action, measure, or thing. ‘<span class="sc">All serene!</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>) is presumably its nearest modern street equivalent. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barber’s-Cat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A weak, sickly looking individual. In French such a person is called <i lang="fr">un faiblard</i> and <i lang="fr">un astec</i>, the latter an allusion to the Mexican dwarfs. According to Hotten, the term is also +‘used in connexion with an expression too coarse to print.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barber’s-Chair</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A prostitute; a drab; a strumpet. So called from a <span class="sc">barber’s-chair</span> being common to all comers. It will be remembered that Shakspeare in <i>All’s Well</i> [ii., 2.] likens an all-embracing answer to a question to ‘a <span class="sc">barber’s-chair</span> that fits all buttocks; the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn-buttock, or +any buttock.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1621. <span class="sc">Burton</span>, <i>Anatomy of Melancholy</i>, III. iv., <span class="sc">i</span>, iii. (1651), 665. A notorious strumpet as common as a <span class="sc">barber’s-chair</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb123">[<a href="#pb123">123</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1708. <span class="sc">Motteux</span>, <i>Rabelais’ Pantagr., Prognost. v. Bonarobaes</i>. <span class="sc">Barber’s-chairs</span>, hedge whores. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barber’s-Clerk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A term of reproach generally applied by mechanics and artisans to overdressed +and vaunting clerks and shopmen. In a secondary sense it is used of anyone <i>over-particular</i> in his personal appearance. The phrases ‘oh, he’s just come from the barber’s,’ and +‘one of Truefitt’s young men’ are common enough. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Sketches by Boz</i>, p. 155. ‘Tailor!’ screamed a third. ‘<span class="sc">Barber’s-clerk!</span>’ shouted a fourth. ‘Throw him <span class="sc">o-ver</span>!’ roared a fifth, [<span class="sc">d.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barber’s Music</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Harsh and roughly discordant music. Barber’s shops were formerly places of +great resort, and the old plays are full of references to the means by which customers, +while waiting their turn, wiled away the time. Amongst other things it was usual to +provide a cittern, a musical instrument similar to a guitar, upon which any who chose +could try their skill. Many of the old proverbs refer to this circumstance. Ben Jonson +in <i>The Silent Woman</i> [iii., 5] makes Morose say of his wife whom his barber had recommended, ‘I have married +his cittern that is common to all men’; and Matheo, in <i>The Honest Whore</i>, speaks of a barber’s citterne for every serving man to play upon. Therefore, it +is little wonder that <span class="sc">barber’s music</span> should be synonymous with discord. +</p> +<p class="cit">1660. <span class="sc">Pepys</span>, June 5. My lord called for the lieutenant’s cittern, and with two candlesticks with +money in them for symbols (cymbals) we made <span class="sc">barber’s music</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barefooted on the Top of Ones Head</b>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—Bald-headed. The application of the simile is obvious. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bargain.</b> <span class="sc">Selling a bargain</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—A species of low wit, much in vogue about the latter end of the reign of +Queen Anne, but which is of much more ancient usage. It is frequently alluded to by +Swift, who remarks that ‘the <i>maids</i> of <i>honor</i> often amused themselves with it.’ If so, it seems incredible; and one would say so +much the worse for the ‘maids of honor.’ It is thus described: A person would come +into a room full of company, apparently in a fright, crying out, ‘It is white, and +follows me!’ On any of the company asking what? the bargain was sold by the first +speaker naming a certain portion of the body. In another, and happily more decent +form, this somewhat senseless ‘sell’ still has a vogue. This slang expression and +practice was apparently well known to Shakspeare, who makes Costard use it in <i>Love’s Labour Lost</i> [Act iii., Sc. 1], ‘The boy hath sold him a bargain.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barge</b>, <i>subs.</i> (printers’).—1. A ‘case’ in which there is an undue proportion of some letters, and +a corresponding shortness of those which are most valuable. +</p> +<p>2. The term is also applied among printers to a card or small box on or in which ‘spaces’ +are put while correcting formes away from ‘case.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb124">[<a href="#pb124">124</a>]</span></p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To abuse; to slang. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bullyrag</span>. The allusion is, of course, to the rough mode of speaking peculiar to bargees or +bargemen. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Albert Smith</span>, <i>Medical Student</i>, p. 102. ‘Whereupon they all began to <span class="sc">barge</span> the master at once; one saying “his coffee was all snuff and chick-weed.” ’ +</p> +<p>(Uppingham School.)—To knock against a person; to come into collision with. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barge-Arse</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A man or woman of rotund development at the back. [From <span class="sc">barge</span>, a clumsy vessel, + <span class="sc">arse</span>, O.E., posterior or buttock.] A low term of ridicule. Also used as an adjective, +<span class="sc">barge-arsed</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barge-pole</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A large stick or thick bough, of which there was one in each +fagot. Also generally used for any large piece of wood. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bark</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. An Irishman or Irishwoman. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Barkshire</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <i>Notes and Queries</i>, 4 S., iii., 406. In Lancashire an Irishman is vulgarly called a <span class="sc">bark</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 191. Mike when asked by some of his countrymen why he called Fairbanks a ‘<span class="sc">bark</span>,’ <i>i.e.</i>, an Irishman, said, ‘If I had not put the ‘bark’ on him he would have put it on me, +so I had the first pull.’ +</p> +<p>2. The skin. This occurs also dialectically. In Alan Ramsay’s poems [1758] it is so +used. +</p> +<p class="cit">1843. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Martin Chuzzlewit</i>, ch. xx., p. 209. To the great detriment of what is called by fancy gentlemen the +<span class="sc">bark</span> upon his shins, which were most unmercifully bumped against the hard leather and +the iron buckles. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <i>Family Herald</i>, 2 Dec., p. 80, col. 1. With the <span class="sc">bark</span> all off his shins from a blow with a hockey stick. +</p> +<p>3. (colloquial.)—A cough. <i>Cf.</i>, <i>verb</i>, <span class="sc">To bark</span>, sense 2. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—1. To scrape; or rub off the skin; to abraise. +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">Hughes</span>, <i>Tom Brown’s School-days</i>, p. 227. So, after getting up [the tree] three or four feet, down they came slithering +to the ground, <span class="sc">barking</span> their arms and faces. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <i>Macmillan’s Magazine</i>, Nov., p. 18. The knuckles of his right hand were <span class="sc">barked</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">Mark Twain</span>, <i>Roughing It</i>, p. 16 (Routledge’s ed.). Every time we avalanched from one end of the stage to the +other, the ‘Unabridged Dictionary’ would come too; and, every time it came, it damaged +somebody. One trip it <span class="sc">barked</span> the Secretary’s elbow; the next trip it hurt me in the stomach, and the third, it +tilted Bemis’s nose up till he could look down his nostrils—he said. +</p> +<p>2. To cough; generally applied when it is persistent and hacking. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">The word with the bark on it</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—Without mincing the matter; without circumlocution. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">Mark Twain</span>, <i>Roughing It</i>, chap. xv. If ever another man gives a whistle to a child of mine, and I get my hands +on him, I will hang him nigher than Haman! That is <span class="sc">the word with the bark on it</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To take the bark off</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—To reduce in value, either deliberately, or by accident; a figurative +usage of ‘to graze,’ ‘to take the skin off.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>David Copperfield</i>, p. 310. I rode my gallant grey so close to the wheel, that I grazed his near foreleg +against it and <span class="sc">took the bark off</span>, as his owner told me, to the tune of three pun’ sivin. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Rev. Ed. Bradley</span> (‘Cuthbert Bede’), <i>Further Adventures of Verdant Green</i>, p. 31. That’ll <span class="sc">take the bark from</span> your nozzle, and distil the Dutch pink for you, won’t it? +<span class="pageNum" id="pb125">[<a href="#pb125">125</a>]</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">To bark at the moon</span> (colloquial).—To clamour uselessly; to agitate to no effect; to labour in vain. +</p> +<p class="cit">1630. <span class="sc">Taylor’s</span> <i>Workes</i>. And thus my booke and comparisons end together; for thus much I know, that I have +but all this while <span class="sc">bark’d at the moone</span>, throwne feathers against the winde, built upon the sands, wash’d a blackmore, and +laboured in vaine. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. A pistol. [From <span class="sc">barker</span>, a noisy assailant, <i>i.e.</i>, one who barks like a dog.] Sometimes called <span class="sc">barking iron</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). The latter, as far as is known, is the oldest term. An early use of <span class="sc">barkers</span> bears date of 1815, whilst <span class="sc">barking iron</span> occurs in Parker’s <i>Life’s Painter</i>, 1789. +</p> +<p class="cit">1815. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Guy Mannering</i>, ch. xxxiii. ‘Had he no arms?’ asked the Justice. ‘Ay, ay, they are never without +<span class="sc">barkers</span> and slashers.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Oliver Twist</i>, ch. xxii. ‘<span class="sc">Barkers</span> for me, Barney,’ said Toby Crackit. ‘Here they are,’ replied Barney, producing a +pair of pistols. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">C. Kingsley</span>, <i>Two Years Ago</i>, ch. xxiv. I’ll give you five for those pistols … being rather a knowing one about +the pretty little <span class="sc">barkers</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> ‘Meat in the pot.’ (A Texan term, alluding to the means by which meat is literally +provided for the pot. Texan figures of speech are often startling enough in originality +and sententiousness. Nor is the moral ingenuity revealed by this vernacular less striking; +<i>e.g.</i>, when revolvers are said ‘to make all men equal.’) Other synonyms for revolvers of +similar character are ‘my unconverted friend’; ‘a one-eyed scribe’ (an argument always +persuasive and sometimes unanswerable); ‘blue lightning’ (sometimes a tragedy in three +acts: Act i., a word; Act ii., a flash of blue lightning; and Act iii., certain death); +‘whistler’ (from the sharp hissing sound of a bullet in its flight); ‘peace-maker’ +(a sarcastic commentary on the proverb that ‘short reckonings make long friends’); +dag; pop; etc. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Un aboyeur</i> (popular: a literal translation of ‘barker’; also ‘a tout’); <i lang="fr">un pitroux</i> (thieves’: in the old Provencal, <i lang="fr">pitrou</i> bore the sense of a piece of wood or stick, and it is possible that French thieves +have here merely transferred the name from one weapon to another); <i lang="fr">un pétouze</i> (a play upon words. In the old cant <i lang="fr">pétouze</i> signified the ancient coin known as a <i lang="fr">pistole</i>); <i lang="fr">un bayafe</i> (thieves’: formerly <i lang="fr">baillaf</i>, a term employed by the robbers who infested the highways of Southern France. It +is thought to be derived from two words <i lang="fr">bailler</i>, to give, and <i lang="fr">affe</i> or rather <i lang="fr">affre</i>, signifying fear); <i lang="fr">un mandolet</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">pied de cochon</i> (military: literally ‘a pig’s foot’; a variety of weapon of large size and calibre); +<i lang="fr">un crucifix</i> or <i lang="fr">un crucifix à ressort</i> (thieves’: literally ‘a crucifix,’ or ‘a crucifix with a spring’); <i lang="fr">un soufflant</i> (thieves’: <i lang="fr">soufflet</i> = to whisper); <i lang="fr">les burettes</i> (thieves’ and popular: literally ‘phials’). +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A man employed to stand in front of shops and shows to attract the attention +of passers-by, and if possible to entice them inside, where he can safely leave them +to the tender mercies of the salesmen. The origin of the term is obvious; and, it +is interesting to note that <span class="sc">barker</span> has its exact <span class="pageNum" id="pb126">[<a href="#pb126">126</a>]</span>equivalent in the French <i lang="fr">aboyeur</i>. Amongst touting photographers, in low neighbourhoods, this individual is called +a <span class="sc">doorsman</span>, and the term is likewise applied to auction-room touts. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Barker</span> (s.), a salesman’s servant that walks before his door, to invite customers in to +buy cloaths. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Barker.</span> The shopman of a dealer in second-hand clothes, particularly about Monmouth St., +who walks before his shop and deafens every passenger with his cries of clothes, coats, +or gowns, ‘what d’ye want <i>gemmen</i>, what d’ye buy?’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1828. <span class="sc">Jon. Bee</span>, <i>Picture of London</i>, p. 109. <i>Mock-auctions</i> and ‘selling-off’ shops are not the only pests where <span class="sc">barkers</span> are kept at the doors to invite unwary passengers to ‘walk in, walk in, sale just +begun.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Texas Siftings</i>, Oct. 13. I am a barker by profession. The pedestrian agility required to pace up and down before the ‘Half-dime +Museum of Anatomy and Natural History,’ soliciting passers-by to enter, is of itself +enormous; but where it gets in its base hit is when it increases the appetite. McGinty +knows this. McGinty is my friend, but I wouldn’t serve a tenth of his unexpired terms +for ten dollars. I have peddled clams with McGinty and have seen him eat three bushels +of our stock. That is nothing. When the show isn’t paying, I have to go out and eat +grass. This shows you what nickel-plated, back-action appetites we have. +</p> +<p>3. A man with a troublesome cough; his complaint is otherwise known as a ‘<span class="sc">churchyard cough</span>,’ or a ‘<span class="sc">notice to quit</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p>4. (nautical.)—Besides being used as a designation for a pistol, <span class="sc">barker</span> is also employed for lower deck guns on board ship. +</p> +<p class="cit">1842. <span class="sc">Cooper</span>, <i>Jack O’ Lanthorne</i>, I., 151. Four more carronades with two <span class="sc">barkers</span> for’ard. +</p> +<p>5. <i>See</i> quotation, as follows:— +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">Greenwood</span>, <i>Outcasts of London</i>. But what was barking? I thought a great deal about the matter, and could arrive +at no more feasible conclusion than that a <span class="sc">barker</span> was a boy that attended a drover, and helped him to drive his sheep by means of imitating +the bark of a dog. +</p> +<p>6. (University.)—A noisy assertive individual; and, in a complimentary sense, a great +swell. +</p> +<p>7. (American.)—A noisy coward; a blatant bully. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barkey</b> (nautical).—A term of endearment in use amongst seafaring men when speaking of a +vessel to which they have got attached. ‘She’s a <span class="sc">barkey</span>—she is, my lads!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barking-Irons</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—Pistols. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Barker</span>, sense 1. <span class="sc">Barking-iron</span> is, historically, an older term than <span class="sc">barker</span> by about a quarter of a century. Formerly applied, in the navy, to large duelling +pistols. +</p> +<p class="cit">1789. <span class="sc">Geo. Parker</span>, <i>Life’s Painter</i>, p. 173. Pistols, <span class="sc">barking-irons</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">H. Ainsworth</span>, <i>Rookwood</i>, bk. II., ch. vi. ‘And look you, prick the touch-hole, or your <span class="sc">barking-iron</span> will never bite for you.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barking through the Fence</b>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—A taking advantage of some obstacle or shield for saying or doing something, +which, but for such protection, would not be said or done; or which if done or said +might entail unpleasant consequences upon the sayer or doer. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barkshire</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Ireland.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bark</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb127">[<a href="#pb127">127</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bark up the Wrong Tree</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (American).—Of trapper and pioneer derivation, and idiomatically used to signify +that a person is at fault as to his purpose, or the means by which he is endeavouring +to attain his object. The expression arose in this way: the Western huntsman found +that his prey gradually became more and more wily and cunning in eluding pursuit, +and frequently he and his dogs were at fault, supposing they had ‘treed’ their game +when in reality, especially in the case of opossums and squirrels and such-like animals, +it had escaped by jumping from the boughs of one tree to another. The dogs consequently +were left <span class="sc">barking up the wrong tree</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <i>Richmond Enquirer</i>, Sep. 8. ‘You didn’t really go to old Bullion,’ said a politician to an office-seeker, +‘Why, he has no influence there, I can tell you. You <span class="sc">barked up the wrong tree</span> there, my friend, and you deserve to fail.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Detroit Free Press</i>, Oct. Professor Rose who ‘hit’ this town last spring is around calling us a fugitive +from justice, and asking why the police don’t do something. Gently, Professor. When +we left Xenia, O., the Sheriff patted us on the back and lent us half-a-dollar. We +are the only man in this town who doesn’t turn pale when the stage comes in, and the +only one who doesn’t break for the sage brush when it is announced that the United +States Marshal is here. We ain’t rich or pretty, but we are good, and the Professor +is <span class="sc">barking up the wrong tree</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barnaby.</b> <span class="sc">To dance barnaby</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—To move expeditiously; irregularly. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barnacle</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—1. A pickpocket. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Area sneak</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>b.</i> 1809, <i>d.</i> 1870. <span class="sc">Mark Lemon</span>, <i>Leyton Hall</i>. The man that stood beside thee is old Crookfinger, the most notorious setter, <span class="sc">barnacle</span> and foist in the city. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—A good job, or snack easily got.—<i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum</i> (1811). +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—A gratuity given to grooms by the buyers and sellers of horses.—<i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum</i> (1811). +</p> +<p>4. (old.)—A constant attendant; he who, or that which sticks to one like a barnacle +to a ship’s bottom. +</p> +<p class="cit">1607. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Northward Hoe!</i> III., wks., 1873, III., 39. Ile cashiere all my yong <span class="sc">barnicles</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Trail of the Serpent</i>, I., i., 7. Slopper found him a species of <span class="sc">barnacle</span> rather difficult to shake off. +</p> +<p>5. (old cant.)—A decoy swindler; from the pertinacity with which such a one fastens +on to a victim, and will not be shaken off until the purpose in view is effected. +<i>Cf.</i>, senses 1 and 4. +</p> +<p class="cit">1591. <span class="sc">Greene</span>, <i>Notable Discovery of Coosnage</i> (1859), 23. Thus doth the Verser and the Setter feign a kind friendship to the Cony.… +As thus they sit tippling, coms the <span class="sc">barnackle</span> and thrusts open the doore … steps back again: and very mannerly saith I cry you +mercy, Gentlemen. I thoght a frend of mine had bin heere. +</p> +<p class="cit">1608. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Belman of London</i>, wks. (1885) III., 131. He that … before counterfeited the dronken Bernard is now +sober and called the <span class="sc">barnacle</span>. +</p> +<p>6. (old.)—An individual speaking with a nasal twang; one who speaks through his nose. +</p> +<p class="cit">1591. <span class="sc">Percivall</span>, <i>Sp. Dictionary</i>. <i lang="es">Gango</i>, a <span class="sc">barnacle</span>, one that speaketh through the nose, <i>Chenolopex</i>. [<i>Chenalopex</i> in Pliny, a species of goose.] [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barnacles</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. Spectacles. Formerly applied <span class="pageNum" id="pb128">[<a href="#pb128">128</a>]</span>only to spectacles with side pieces of coloured glass, and used more as protectors +from wind, dust, and glaring light than as aids to the sight. Hence used popularly +for all kinds of glasses. The derivation seems uncertain. The principal suggested +origins are:—(1) a corruption of <i lang="la">binoculis</i> [from Latin <i lang="la">bini</i>, double, + <i lang="la">oculus</i>, an eye]; (2) an attributive usage of <span class="sc">barnacles</span>, which, with ‘horse-twitchers’ or ‘brakes,’ are tools put on the nostrils of horses +when they will not stand still to be shooed; and in support of this it has been pointed +out [<i>N. and Q.</i>, 1 S., v., 13] the figure of the <span class="sc">barnacle</span> borne in heraldry sufficiently shows why the term has been transferred to spectacles, +which were formerly only kept in position by the manner in which they clipped the +nose; (3) that <span class="sc">barnacles</span> are so called from the similarity in shape to the black streak which proceeds from +the upper part of the beak in a line to the corner of, and right round the eye of +the bernicle, or <span class="sc">barnacle</span> goose (<i lang="la">Anser bernicla</i>). There is a strong resemblance in the mark to a pair of spectacles. +</p> +<p class="cit">1571. <i>Damon and Pythias</i> (Dodsley’s Old Plays), Hazlett IV., 81. These <span class="corr" id="xd33e20163" title="Source: spectales">spectacles</span> put on. <i>Grim.</i> They be gay <span class="sc">barnacles</span>, yet I see never the better. +</p> +<p class="cit">1653. <span class="sc">Sir Thomas Urquhart</span>, <i>Translation of Rabelais</i>, bk. V., ch. xxvii. They had <span class="sc">barnacles</span> on the handles of their faces, or spectacles at most. +</p> +<p>The difference between spectacles and <span class="sc">barnacles</span> seems to be indicated in this passage. In the original French the phrase reads ‘<i lang="fr">bezicles au nez</i>.’ A later quotation illustrative of the usage is: +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>The Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. i. ‘Give me the <span class="sc">barnacles</span>, my good youth, and who can say what nose they may bestride in two years hence?’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> ‘Bossers’; ‘gig-lamps’; ‘goggles.’ A man wearing these aids to sight is sometimes +called ‘<span class="sc">four eyes</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Les persiennes</i> (popular: properly ‘venetian shutters’); <i lang="fr">une vitrine</i> (popular: literally ‘a shop window,’ or glass case in a museum). +</p> +<p>2. (old cant.)—<i>See</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Barnacles</span> (<span class="sc">s.</span>) … in the <i>Canting Language</i>, a pair of spectacles; also the irons or fetters worn by felons are so called; also +the gratuity or reward that jockies have for buying horses for gentlemen. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barndoor</b>, <i>subs.</i> (sporting).—1. A facetious term for a target too large to be missed; <i>i.e.</i>, as large as a <span class="sc">barndoor</span>. Hence <span class="sc">barndoor practice</span> as applied to organised battues, in which game is driven within a range from which +it is impossible to escape. This can hardly be called sport; rather let it be known +as ‘slaughter.’ +</p> +<p>2. (cricket.)—A player who blocks every ball. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barnet!</b> <i>intj.</i> (Christ’s Hospital).—Nonsense! humbug! Now obsolete. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barnet Fair</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—The hair; part of the <span class="sc">rhyming slang</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). For synonyms <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Top dressing</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb129">[<a href="#pb129">129</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Barney</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. A word which varies in sense according to the predelictions of the +person using it. Generally speaking it means a jollification; ‘lark’; pleasurable +outing; picnic. The ’Arries and roughs of London, however, always associate it with +a certain amount of rowdyism. Its derivation is unknown, although Barrère gives a +long dissertation concerning its origin in the Yiddish. As, however, this is founded +mainly upon a misreading of a quotation from <i>Punch</i>, it is somewhat beside the mark. +</p> +<p>2. Humbug; cheating; a hoax; something pre-arranged—not genuine. In sporting circles +it signifies an unfair race of any kind. +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <span class="sc">B. Brierley</span>, <i>Irkdale</i>, II., 19. I won thee i’ fair powell one toss an’ no <span class="sc">barney</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Evening News</i>, 2 Sept., p. 1, col. 6. Blackguardly <span class="sc">barneys</span> called boxing competitions. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>Murray gives this last in illustration of the secondary sense which he applies to +the word, viz., a prize-fight. <span class="sc">Barney</span>, it is true, does signify a prize-fight, but it means more than that. A fair contest +would not be so named; there must be an element of chicanery in the matter. Besides +which, <span class="sc">barney</span> is applied to unfair sporting competitions of any kind. A comparison of the different +quotations given under this heading will clearly prove that point. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Referee</i>, April 13, p. 7, col. 4. Who would believe that Mr. Gladstone shammed being ill, +and that Sir Andrew Clark issued false bulletins, and that the whole thing was a <span class="sc">barney</span> from beginning to end. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Bell’s Life</i>, Jan. 3, p. 3, col. 4. Few genuine matches have taken place this season on the Transatlantic +waters, though exhibitions and <span class="sc">barney</span> contests have been plentiful. +</p> +<p>3. (American.)—At Harvard College, about the year 1810, this word was used to designate +a bad recitation. To <span class="sc">barney</span> was to recite badly.—<span class="sc">Hall’s</span> <i>College Words and Customs</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barn-Mouse.</b> <span class="sc">To be bitten by a barn-mouse</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To be tipsy; ‘screwed.’ The <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum</i> says ‘it is probably an allusion to barley,’ presumably as the source of malt liquor. +<i>Cf.</i>, ‘<span class="sc">To have on</span>’ Or ‘<span class="sc">wear a barley-cap</span>,’ to be tipsy; also <span class="sc">barley-cap</span> = a tippler. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barn-stormer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (theatrical).—A deprecatory epithet applied to strolling players. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>, 6 June, p. 5, col. 1. If this be <span class="sc">barn-storming</span>, Betterton and Garrick were <span class="sc">barn-stormers</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Graphic</i>, 10 April, p. 399. Travelling players who acted short and highly tragic pieces to +audiences of clodpoles in any barn or shed they could get, used to be known as <span class="sc">barn-stormers</span>, and a ranting, noisy style of acting and speaking is still called ‘barn-storming.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Referee</i>, 21 August, p. 3, col. 1. Mr. Edward Terry has again been elected at the head of +the poll as trustee of the charities of Barnes. He is not the first clever actor who +has been known as a <span class="sc">Barnes-stormer</span>. +</p> +<p>The French term for one of such a troupe is <i lang="fr">cabotin</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barnumese</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—Barnum, the proprietor of ‘the greatest show upon earth,’ has at any +rate one claim to immortal fame in having, like Boycot, Burke, and Balfour, added +a new word to the English tongue. The ‘high falutin,’ bombastic style of the <span class="pageNum" id="pb130">[<a href="#pb130">130</a>]</span>great man’s announcements are notorious; as much so, in fact, as is the diction of +the great London newspaper which claims ‘the largest circulation in the world.’ From +such circumstances we get words like <span class="sc">barnumese</span> and telegraphese, to signify exaggeration of style—what in slang parlance is known +as the ‘putting on of side.’ +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—<span class="sc">To Barnumize</span> is to talk or assert oneself in the style popularly attributed to Barnum. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baronet</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A humorous variation for sirloin [of beef]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1749. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, bk. IV., ch. x. The sight of the roast beef struck him dumb, permitting him only +to say grace, and to declare he must pay his respects to the <span class="sc">baronet</span>, for so he called the sirloin. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barrack-Hack</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—1. In an inoffensive sense applied to young women who attend garrison +balls year after year. So used there is no such imputation of lax morals as occurs +in sense 2. +</p> +<p>2. A soldier’s prostitute. There are but few classes of persons to whom a greater +number of slang epithets have been applied than to the poor wretched creatures, who +from choice, bad-treatment, or as a means of subsistence abandon themselves to a life +of prostitution. These names are to be found in plenty for all grades of semi-public +or public women. They run the gauntlet from the gilded courtezan to the veriest drab +in the last stages of destitution and disease. The list of synonyms is both long and +grim; the names in many cases speaking volumes on a subject which it would be painful +as well as needless to pursue farther in this place, inasmuch as the epithets both +in French and English, and, it must be added, those of other languages as well, speak +with a brutal cynicism to which it would be out of place to add a comment. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> Ladies of accommodating morals; ladies of more complaisance than virtue; anonyma; +pretty horsebreaker; artichoke; columbine; common Jack; convenient; cow; crack; aunt; +ladies of easy virtue; bangster; blowen; garrison-hack; bat; bawdy-basket; bed-fagot; +fireship; bit o’ muslin; laced mutton; mot; bobtail; bona roba; brevet wife; grass +widow; brimstone; black Bess; brown Bessy; bulker; bunter; burick; buttock; cab moll; +cat; chauvering donna; chauvering moll; barber’s chair; demi-rep; tartlet; trollop; +shake; poll; dolly-mop; gay woman; unfortunate; dress-lodger; mauks; quædam (obsolete); +woman; bitch; perfect lady; public ledger; necessary; warming-pan; nun. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Une persilleuse</i> (familiar); <i lang="fr">une mal peignée</i> (popular: ‘a dirty ill-dressed woman; drab; or draggletail’); <i lang="fr">une moellonneuse</i> (a prostitute who frequents builders’ yards); <i lang="fr">hirondelle de goguenot</i> (military: ‘a barrack-hack’; in French soldiers’ slang <i lang="fr">un goguenot</i> is a tin can used for making coffee or soup); <i lang="fr">un chausson</i> (literally ‘a sock’ or ‘stocking’); <i lang="fr">almanach de trente six mille <span class="pageNum" id="pb131">[<a href="#pb131">131</a>]</span>adresses</i> (popular: literally ‘a directory.<span>’</span> <i>Cf.</i>, English ‘public-ledger’); <i lang="fr">une génisse</i> (popular: literally ‘a heifer.’ <i>Cf.</i>, English ‘cow’); <i lang="fr">une raccrocheuse</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">raccrocher</i>, ‘to hook’); <i lang="fr">une vache à lait</i> (popular: literally ‘a milch cow’); <i lang="fr">une fleur de macadam</i> (popular: ‘a roadside flower’; ‘a street walker’); <i lang="fr">une roulante</i> (popular: in old French slang <i lang="fr">un roulant</i> = a vehicle. <i>Cf.</i>, English ‘cab’); <i lang="fr">une camelote</i> (popular: a prostitute of the lowest class; a draggletail); <i lang="fr">une morue</i> (popular: literally ‘a cod-fish’); <i lang="fr">une marcheuse</i> (popular: properly ‘a walker’; in theatrical parlance, a female super); <i lang="fr">une piqueuse de trains</i> (popular: one who prowls about railway stations. <i lang="fr">Piqueuse</i> = needlewoman); <i lang="fr">un pigeon voyageur</i> (familiar: a girl who travels up and down a railway seeking clients; literally ‘a +carrier pigeon’); <i lang="fr">une pieuvre</i> (familiar: a kept woman; properly ‘an octopus’); <i lang="fr">un carcan à crinoline</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">carcan</i>, applied to either sex is an opprobrious epithet; the phrase also signifies ‘a gaunt-woman’); +<i lang="fr">un omnibus</i> (popular: <i>i.e.</i>, ‘one who may be ridden by all’); <i lang="fr">un cul crotté</i> (low: properly ‘a dirty bottom’); <i lang="fr">une trychine</i> (popular: an allusion to <i lang="la">trichina spiralis</i>, the disease-germ in bad pork); <i lang="fr">une fenêtrière</i> (popular: an allusion to the custom of this class to watch at windows and invite +passers-by to visit them); <i lang="fr">une traîneuse</i> (familiar: a prostitute who plies her trade at railway stations); <i lang="fr">un trumeau</i> (popular: literally ‘a leg of beef’); <i lang="fr">une crevette</i> (popular: ‘a prawn’ or ‘shrimp’); <i lang="fr">une boulonnaise</i> (a girl who ‘walks’ the Bois de Boulogne); <i lang="fr">un matelas ambulant</i> (popular: properly ‘a walking mattress.’ <i>Cf.</i>, English ‘bed-fagot’); <i lang="fr">une demoiselle du Pont-Neuf</i> (popular: this kind haunt the bridge of the name over the Seine); <i lang="fr">un demi-castor</i> (popular: a woman of the demi-monde); <i lang="fr">une laqueuse</i> (familiar: a prostitute frequenting the lake in the Bois de Boulogne); <i lang="fr">une pailletée</i> (common: properly ‘spangled’); <i lang="fr">un pelican</i> (familiar: a dressy courtesan); <i lang="fr">une ningle</i> (a literary term); <i lang="fr">une maquillée</i> (popular: ‘one with painted face’); <i lang="fr">une gueuse</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">gueuse</i> = beggarly, wretched); <i lang="fr">une fille</i> or <i lang="fr">femme du trottoir</i> (popular: ‘a girl’ or ‘woman of the pavement’); <i lang="fr">une vieille garde</i> (familiar: an old worn-out prostitute); <i lang="fr">une biche</i> (popular: ‘a hind’ or ‘roe’); <i lang="fr">une déhanchée</i> (popular: ‘a waddler’); <i lang="fr">une demi-mondaine</i> (general: a woman of the demi-monde; a fashionable prostitute); <i lang="fr">une portion</i> (military: literally ‘a share’ or ‘portion’; one who is shared by many); <i lang="fr">une limace</i> (popular: properly ‘a slug’); <i lang="fr">une terrinière</i> (the lowest sort of prostitute; <i lang="fr">terrine</i> = earthen pan); <i lang="fr">une terreuse</i> (a woman who prowls about lonely spots); <i lang="fr">une terrière</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">une fille à parties</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">une rivette</i>; <i lang="fr">une voirie</i> (popular: ‘a common sewer’); <i lang="fr">une boule rouge</i> (familiar: a frequenter of the Quartier de la Boule Rouge, Fanbourg Montmartre); +<i lang="fr">une vessie</i> (popular: a very low prostitute; <i lang="fr">vessie</i> applied to either sex is an offensive epithet); <i lang="fr">une demoiselle de bitume</i> (familiar); <i lang="fr">un pont d’Avignon</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">une pontonnière</i> (popular: a prostitute who plies <span class="pageNum" id="pb132">[<a href="#pb132">132</a>]</span>her trade under the arches of bridges; <i lang="fr">ponton</i> = pontoon, ‘a bridge of boats’; <i lang="fr">pontonnier</i> = ‘a toll gatherer’); <i lang="fr">une polisseuse de tuyaux de pipe</i> (literally ‘a polisher of pipe stems’); <i lang="fr">une pompe funèbre</i> (familiar: properly ‘funeral pomp’); <i lang="fr">une polisseuse de mâts de cocagne en chambre</i> (popular: an extremely degraded variety of prostitute; literally ‘a polisher of greasy +poles in a room’); <i lang="fr">une punaise</i> (general: ‘a bug’—a public woman of the lowest grade); <i lang="fr">une dessalée</i> (popular: literally ‘a knowing woman’); <i lang="fr">une mangeuse de viande crue</i> (popular: ‘a devourer of raw meat’); <i lang="fr">une cité d’amour</i> (literally ‘a city of love’); <i lang="fr">autel de besoin</i> (popular: ‘an altar of necessity’; <i>Cf.</i>, English ‘necessary’); <i lang="fr">une vésuvienne</i> (familiar: literally ‘a vesuvian,’ either in allusion to the volcano or the well-known +brand of matches; in either case the epithet comes very close to the old English slang +‘fireship,’ an old and diseased prostitute); <i lang="fr">peau</i>, or <i lang="fr">peau de chien</i> (popular: literally ‘dog’s skin’); <i lang="fr">un grenier à coups de sabre</i> (a soldiers’ term: <i lang="fr">grenier</i>, a granary; <i lang="fr">coups de sabre</i>, thrusts with a broad sword); <i lang="fr">une rempardeuse</i> (a woman who frequents the ramparts); <i lang="fr">une femme de terrain</i> (a draggletailed woman; <i lang="fr">femme</i>, woman, <i lang="fr">terrain</i>, ground); <i lang="fr">une saucisse</i> (popular: <i>i.e.</i>, ‘a small sausage’); <i lang="fr">une trainée</i> (familiar); <i lang="fr">une baleine</i> (popular: ‘a whale’); <i lang="fr">une lésé-bombe</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">une fille en brème</i> (a registered prostitute; <i lang="fr">la brème</i> is the card given to such women by the police); <i lang="fr">une fille en carte</i> (a registered woman: <i>see</i> preceding); <i lang="fr">une boutonnière à pantalons</i> (familiar: a kind of semi-prostitute; a sempstress who walks the streets at night; +in their own words, they ‘work for their living, but do <i>the naughty</i> for their clothes’); <i lang="fr">une fille de maison</i> or <i lang="fr">une fille à numéro</i> (familiar: these names are given to girls in brothels; <i>Cf.</i>, English ‘dress-lodgers’); <i lang="fr">une fille de tournure</i> (familiar: this also is applied to the inmate of a brothel; literally ‘a girl of +figure’); <i lang="fr">une poupée</i> (popular: ‘a doll’); <i lang="fr">une mouquette</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">des poules</i> (popular: the inmates of a brothel are so called; literally ‘hens’); <i lang="fr">une galvaudeuse</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">galvauder</i>, ‘to scold’); <i lang="fr">une planche à boudin</i> (familiar: literally ‘a slice of pudding’; in English harlotry ‘to take one’s pudding’ +or ‘greens’ is to have sexual connection); <i lang="fr">une blanchisseuse en chemise</i> (<i lang="fr">blanchisseuse</i> = laundress; <i lang="fr">être dans la chemise de quelqu’un</i> is to be constantly with one); <i lang="fr">un lard</i> (literally ‘bacon’ or body); <i lang="fr">une gadoue</i> (properly ‘street refuse’ or ‘mud’); <i lang="fr">un sommier de caserne</i> (military: <i lang="fr">sommier</i> means ‘hair-mattress,’ and <i lang="fr">caserne</i> = ‘barracks’; applied to girls who prowl about barracks); <i lang="fr">une grivoise</i> (this term is now obsolete, but was formerly applied to a garrison town prostitute. +It means, literally, ‘a jolly canteen woman’); <i lang="fr">une paillasse à soldats</i> (a barrack-hack; literally ‘a straw mattress for soldiers’); <i lang="fr">un passe-lacet</i> (properly ‘a bodkin’—<i>i.e.</i>, ‘something to be threaded’); <i lang="fr">un chameau</i> (the term was originally applied to a gaunt, ungainly woman; it now signifies a prostitute +also); <i lang="fr">un membre de la caravane</i> (a <span class="pageNum" id="pb133">[<a href="#pb133">133</a>]</span>euphemism for <i lang="fr">un chameau</i>, <i>q.v.</i>); <i lang="fr">un lolo</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">une grue</i> (popular: a kept woman; <i lang="fr">faire le pied de grue</i>, ‘to dance attendance’); <i lang="fr">une soupeuse</i> (literally ‘one who takes supper’; an allusion to the ‘<i lang="fr">cabinets particuliers</i>’ of French restaurants); <i lang="fr">une belle petite</i> (a young and pretty prostitute of the superior class; literally ‘a pretty darling’); +<i lang="fr">une pêche à quinze sous</i> (a literary term); <i lang="fr">une boulevardière</i> (a superior class of prostitute frequenting the boulevards); <i lang="fr">un camélia</i> (a kept woman; a reference to the heroine of <i lang="fr">La Dame aux camélias</i> by A. Dumas fils); <i lang="fr">une lorette</i> (a variety of prostitute named after the Quartier Notre Dame de Lorette, the Paris +Pimlico); <i lang="fr">une petite dame</i> (literally ‘a little lady’); <i lang="fr">une impure</i> (a kept woman; properly ‘an unchaste one’); <i lang="fr">une agenouillée</i> (journalistic); <i lang="fr">une verticale</i>; <i lang="fr">une horizontale de grande marque</i> (a fashionable courtezan); <i lang="fr">une cocotte</i> (a generic term); <i lang="fr">une pierreuse</i> (a public woman of the lowest grade who plies her hideous trade in houses in course +of building, etc.); <i lang="fr">une chamègue</i>; <i lang="fr">un bourdon</i> (thieves’: literally ‘a drone’); <i lang="fr">une lipète</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">une magneuse</i> (popular: a woman who depraves herself with members of her own sex. The name is said +to be in allusion to a religious community who derived their cognomen from that of +their founder, Jeanne Canart, the daughter of Nicholas Colbert, who was the Seigneur +de Magneux); <i lang="fr">une vielle lanterne</i> (popular: an old prostitute; <i lang="fr">lanterne</i> = <span id="xd33e20918">‘</span>window’); <i lang="fr">une feuille</i> (literally ‘a leaf’; the term is one used at the Saumur School of Cavalry); <i lang="fr">un blanc</i> (literally ‘blank’ or ‘white’; the derivation is somewhat obscure, but the term is +a very ancient one for a public woman. <i lang="fr">Mangeur de blanc</i> is a man who lives upon the earnings of prostitutes and ruins them. Formerly, the +expression <i lang="fr">mettre à blanc</i> was used in the sense of ‘to ruin’); <i lang="fr">une vache</i> (this term in its popular signification merely means ‘a woman of indifferent character’; +if a prostitute is intended, the expression is <i lang="fr">une vache à lait</i>, a milch cow); <i lang="fr">un veau</i> (literally ‘a calf’; the phrase is applied to a <i>young</i> prostitute. <i>Cf.</i>, ‘<i lang="fr">vache à lait</i>’); <i lang="fr">une retapeuse</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">un wagon</i> (popular: a dirty prostitute. <i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="fr">wagon</i>, ‘a railway carriage’ and <i lang="fr">un omnibus</i>); <i lang="fr">une taupe</i> (familiar: literally a mole, an animal that works in the dark; also ‘a cunning fox’); +<i lang="fr">une Jeanneton</i> (popular: a chambermaid at an inn); <i lang="fr">une andre</i> (an old word; <i>see</i> Fourbesque <i lang="fr">landra</i>); <i lang="fr">une roulure</i> (popular: a public woman of the lowest description. <i lang="fr">Rouler</i> signifies ‘to roll,’ ‘to wander,’ ‘to stroll,’ ‘to keep going’); <i lang="fr">une fille de barrière</i> (popular: a prostitute plying her trade at the barriers or gates of the city); <i lang="fr">une dossière</i> (thieves’: literally ‘a back’); <i lang="fr">une rouleuse</i> (familiar: an abandoned woman; literally the name of a species of caterpillar); <i lang="fr">une paillasse à troufion</i> (a soldier’s woman); <i lang="fr">une paillasse de corps de garde</i> (military: literally ‘a guard-room mattress’); <i lang="fr">une marneuse</i> (popular: a variety of low class prostitute frequenting the river-side; literally +‘clayey’); <i lang="fr">une Louis</i> (a bully’s mistress; the allusion is to the fancy <span class="pageNum" id="pb134">[<a href="#pb134">134</a>]</span>which women in brothels often have of powdering and dressing the hair in the fashion +of the times of Louis XV.); <i lang="fr">une ouvrière</i> (also a ‘bully’s’ mistress. The term signifies, literally, ‘a workwoman.’ These wretched +creatures support their companions who live and batten on what the woman earns in +the sale of her person); <i lang="fr">une fesse</i> (popular: properly ‘a breech’); <i lang="fr">une marmite</i> (harlotry: ‘a flesh pot’); <i lang="fr">un torchon</i> (a low class of woman; <i lang="fr">torchon</i> = ‘a dish clout’); <i lang="fr">une sauterelle</i> (familiar: ‘a grass-hopper’); <i lang="fr">un prat</i>; <i lang="fr">une femme de cavoisi</i> (thieves’: a well dressed prostitute of the boulevards); <i lang="fr">une louille</i>; <i lang="fr">une larque</i> (a registered woman; a corruption of <i lang="fr">largue</i>); <i lang="fr">une menesse</i> (a thieves’ term); <i lang="fr">une larguèpe</i>; <i lang="fr">une magnuce</i> (see <i lang="fr">une magneuse</i>); <i lang="fr">une casserole</i> (thieves’: literally ‘a saucepan’); <i lang="fr">une goipeuse</i> (thieves’: a name given to prostitutes who wander about the country); <i lang="fr">une ronfle</i>; <i lang="fr">une ronfle à grippart</i>; <i lang="fr">un ronfleur</i> (thieves’: <i lang="fr">ronfler</i> is properly ‘to snore’); <i lang="fr">un grippeur</i> (gripper = ‘to nab’; crib; clutch); <i lang="fr">une panterne</i>; <i lang="fr">une bourre de soie</i> (a kept woman; <i lang="fr">bourre</i> = <i>floss</i> + <i lang="fr">soie</i> = silk); <i lang="fr">un asticot</i> (a bully’s or thief’s mistress; literally ‘a maggot’; it may be stated that <i lang="fr">asticot</i> is also used for both the <i lang="la">membrum virile</i>, and for vermicelli); <i lang="fr">une panuche</i> (thieves’: a term applied to showily dressed women who live in brothels); <i lang="fr">une calège</i> (thieves’: a kept woman; <i lang="fr">cale</i>, a kind of head-dress); <i lang="fr">une ponante</i> (thieves’: a low-class prostitute); <i lang="fr">une môme</i> or <i lang="fr">mômeresse</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">une lutainpem</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">une laissée</i> (thieves’ and roughs’); <i lang="fr">une galupe</i> (popular: a street walking prostitute); <i lang="fr">une ponife</i>, <i lang="fr">poniffe</i>, or <i lang="fr">poniffle</i> (thieves’). +</p> +<p>For <span class="sc">German Synonyms</span>, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Tart</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Italian Synonyms.</span> <i lang="it">Una sbriso</i> (this term has another cant signification, <i>viz.</i>, ‘to be naked’; hence, probably, its attributive usage for a prostitute); <i lang="it">una losena</i> (this, like other Fourbesque terms for a woman, also means ‘a woman of the town’; +indeed in most argots there seems to be little, if any distinction drawn between women +of easy virtue, and the sex as a whole); <i lang="it">una guagnastra</i> (<i>i.e.</i>, one who acts as a sheath; the allusion is obvious. <i>Cf.</i>, English ‘broom’ and ‘broom-handle’ for the female <i>pudenda</i> and the male <i>penis</i> respectively); <i lang="it">una marcona</i> (said to be an allusion to a certain incident in the history of the Papal States); +<i lang="it">una landra</i> (curiously enough this term signifying, in orthodox Italian, a prostitute is, in +the Fourbesque, synonymous also with ‘woman.’ The French <i lang="fr">andre</i>, a woman of the town, dates back to the sixteenth century); <i lang="it">una brocca</i> (literally a jug, pitcher, or stupid person); <i lang="it">una brocchiera</i> (from Italian <i lang="it">brocchiere</i>, ‘a buckler’ or ‘shield’); <i lang="it">una baia</i> (<i>i.e.</i>, a mistress); <i lang="it">una farfoia</i> (also a nun, in which connection compare with English <span class="sc">abbess</span>); <i lang="it">una chierlera</i> (this term likewise is also used in the sense of a female devotee. Both the English +and French slang have ‘nun’ as an equivalent for a prostitute); <i lang="it">una carniera</i> or <i lang="it">carnifica</i> (cant terms for a ‘sister,’ and ‘fox’ also); <i lang="it">una cara</i> <span class="pageNum" id="pb135">[<a href="#pb135">135</a>]</span>(literally ‘dear.’ <i>Cf.</i>, French <i lang="fr">belle petite</i>, ‘little darling.’) +</p> +<p>The Spanish Germania has <i lang="es">gaya</i> to signify a prostitute. This is an exact equivalent of the French <i lang="it">fille de joie</i> or ‘gay girl’; <i lang="es">gaya</i> in Spanish signifies ‘gay.’ Another name is found in <i lang="es">germana</i>, in explanation of which it may be briefly explained that the Spanish argot or Germania +took its name from a band or brotherhood of thieves and robbers; and it would thus +appear that <i lang="es">germana</i>, the name for a female member of the band was also used generically for a prostitute! +<i lang="es">Marca</i>, or <i lang="es">marquida</i> and <i lang="es">marquisa</i> are also all used in the sense of a public woman. It may be noted that in the Italian +<i lang="es">marchesata</i> stands for a woman when under menstruation, the physiological fact itself being called +<i lang="es">marchese</i>; <i lang="es">mercenario</i>, a street walker, also signifies a nun of the religious order of <i lang="es">La Merced</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barracking</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Australian).—Banter; chaff. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Barrikin</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barrel-Boarder</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A loafer in low drinking-saloons. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barrel-Campaign</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—Political contests in which bribery and corruption go hand-in-hand with +canvassing and voting. A wealthy candidate for office is said to have originated the +phrase by remarking, ‘Let the boys know that there’s a <span class="sc">bar’l</span> o’ money ready for ’em,’ or words to that effect. The use of the term in this sense +became general about 1876.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Boodle</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Boston</i> (Mass.) <i>Journal</i>, 1 Nov., 1. We are accustomed to <span class="sc">barrel-campaigns</span> here. Nobody supposes this district to be Democratic, but the Democrats depend upon +carrying it with money. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Florida Times Union</i>, Feb. 11, p. 4. It will be remembered that Mr. Flower was the nominal candidate of +the anti-Cleveland men four years ago, and with the aid of his <span class="sc">barrel</span> they really did achieve some show of success. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barrel-Fever</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—An indisposition caused by excessive drinking. ‘He died of <span class="sc">barrel-fever</span>’; <i>i.e.</i>, ‘he killed himself through drink.’ For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Gallon distemper</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barrel-House</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A low groggery. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Missouri Republican</i>, Feb. 11. The West-Side police are still arresting <span class="sc">barrel-house</span> loafers in the hope of catching an expert cracksman among them. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barrell’s Blues</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (military).—A nickname given to the Fourth Foot. [From its facings and Colonel’s +name from 1734 to 1739.] They are also called ‘the Lions,’ from the ancient badge +of the regiment. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barres</b>, <i>subs.</i> (gaming).—Money lost at play, but not paid. The term is an old one, and has long +been obsolete. A corrupt form of ‘barrace,’ an obsolete plural of ‘bar.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barrikin</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Gibberish; jargon; a jumble of words. For usage, <i>see</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. I., p. 15. ‘The high words in a tragedy we call jaw-breakers, and say we can’t +tumble to that <span class="sc">barrikin</span>.’ <i>Ibid</i>, p. 25. Can’t tumble to your <span class="sc">barrikin</span> [<i>i.e.</i>, can’t understand you]. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 27. The rich has all that <span class="sc">barrikin</span> to themselves. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barring.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">To bar</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb136">[<a href="#pb136">136</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Barring Out</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—Exclusion from a place by means of locks and bars. More particularly applied +to a half serious but oftentimes jocular rebellion of schoolboys against the schoolmaster. +</p> +<p class="cit">1728. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Journal of a Modern Lady</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Not schoolboys at a <span class="sc">barring-out</span>, </p> +<p class="line">Raised ever such incessant rout. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1847. <span class="sc">Tennyson</span>, <i>Princess</i>, conclusion. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Revolts, republics, revolutions, most, </p> +<p class="line">No graver than a schoolboys’ <span class="sc">barring-out</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Barrow-Bunter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A barrow-woman; a female costermonger. +</p> +<p class="cit">1771. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Humphry Clinker</i>, i., 140. I saw a dirty <span class="sc">barrow-bunter</span> in the street cleaning her dusty fruit with her own spittle. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barrow-Man</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A man who hawks his wares on a barrow; a costermonger. The term dates back +to the middle of the seventeenth century. <i lang="fr">Un marottier</i> is the French equivalent for one species of the fraternity, better known in England +as a <span class="sc">dudsman</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p>2. Also formerly a man under sentence of transportation. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barrow-Tram</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—An ungainly person; one awkward in gait, and coarse and rawboned in feature. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A half volley. From the Warden of that name famous for disposing +of them. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>, p. 133. What a noble game cricket must be when one loved it so much, notwithstanding +the previous training! What genuine excitement when College and Commoners was played; +what frantic shouting when Rapid got well hold of a ‘<span class="sc">barter</span>’ … and sent the ball from ‘Spanish Poplar,’ right over Mead’s wall by ‘Log pond.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1878. <span class="sc">Adams</span>, <i>Wykehamica</i>, p. 327. Barter was the most popular boy of his day with his schoolfellows. Wonderful +things are told of his scores at cricket at which he is supposed to have been the +hardest hitter of his own times, or of any near him.… He was so renowned for the tremendous +force with which he was wont to swipe the ball, commonly known to cricketers as a +‘half-volley,’ that it actually changed its name in the Wykehamical vocabulary, and +for fully half a century afterwards—and, for all I know, to the present day—bore the +name of a <span class="sc">Barter</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To hit a ball hard at cricket. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Hitting barters.</span>—Practice catching; full pitches hit from the middle of ‘Turf’ towards Ball-Court +for catching practice towards the end of ‘Long Meads.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bartholomew Baby</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A gaudily dressed doll, such as appears to have been commonly sold at Bartholomew +Fair.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bartholomew-pig</span>. Also applied to a person gaudily dressed. +</p> +<p class="cit">1682. <i>Wit and Drollery</i>, p. 343. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Her petticoat of sattin, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Her gown of crimson tabby, </p> +<p class="line">Lac’d up before, and spangl’d ore, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Just like a <span class="sc">Bartholomew baby</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bartholomew-Pig</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Roasted pigs, says Nares, were formerly among the chief attractions of Bartholomew +Fair, West Smithfield, London: they were sold piping hot, in booths and on stalls, +and ostentatiously displayed, to excite the appetite of passengers. Hence a <span class="sc">Bartholomew-pig</span> became a common subject of allusion: the Puritan railed against it. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb137">[<a href="#pb137">137</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1614. <span class="sc">B. Jons.</span>, <i>Bart. Fair</i>, i., 6. For the very calling it a <span class="sc">Bartholomew-pig</span>, and to eat it so, is a spice of idolatry. +</p> +<p>Falstaff, in coaxing ridicule of his enormous figure, is playfully called by his favourite, +</p> +<p class="cit">1598. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>2 Hen. IV.</i>, ii., 4. Thou whoreson little tidy <span class="sc">Bartholomew</span>-boar-<span class="sc">pig</span>. +</p> +<p>Dr. Johnson thought that paste-pigs were there meant: but the true <span class="sc">Bartholomew-pigs</span> were substantial, real, hot, roasted pigs; as may be seen throughout the above play +of old Ben, where Ursula, the pig-woman, is no inconsiderable personage. Gayton also +speaks of the pig-dressers. +</p> +<p class="cit">Like <span class="sc">Bartholomew</span> Fair <span class="sc">pig</span>-dressers, who look like the dams, as well as the cooks of what they roasted. +</p> +<p class="right"><i>Fest. N.</i>, p. 57. +</p> +<p>The young wife in Jonson’s play pretends a violent longing for pig, that she may be +taken to the fair; and it seems that her case was far from uncommon. Davenant speaks +of the <span class="sc">Bartlemew-pig</span>, +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">That gaping lies on every stall, </p> +<p class="line">Till female with great belly call. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">The fair in its later days got to be a place of too much mobbing and riot for ladies +in that condition. There <i>might</i> also be paste-pigs, but, if so, they were very inferior objects, and meant only for +children. Mrs. Ursula also tells us the price of her pigs; namely, five shillings, +five shillings and sixpence, or even six shillings! This was surely as dear in James +I.’s time, as a guinea lately. The highest price, of course, was to be asked of a +longing woman. The fair was abolished in 1854, having been inaugurated in 1133.—<i>Nares.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Barts.</b>, <i>subs.</i> (medical students’).—An abbreviation of ‘St. Bartholomew Hospital.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bash</b>, <i>verb</i> (popular).—To beat; thrash; or crush out of shape. Possibly from the Scandinavian +<i>bask</i>, a slap; ‘box’ also seems to have the same derivation. Chiefly appearing in the northern +dialects, <span class="sc">bash</span> is regarded nowadays in the light of a vulgar colloquialism. Thieves use it synonymously +with ‘to flog.’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bashing</span>. In older writers the word appears as <span class="sc">pash</span>, the ‘p’ in this case being simply a harder form than ‘b.’ An alternative onomatopoetic +derivation has, however, been suggested, the ‘b’ of such words as ‘beat’ and ‘bang’ +being transferred to the terminal letters of ‘dash,’ ‘gash,’ ‘smash,’ etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Strange Newes</i>, in wks. II., 272. A leane arme put out of the bed shall grind and <span class="sc">pash</span> euerie crum of thy booke into pin-dust. +</p> +<p class="cit">1622. <span class="sc">Massinger</span>, <i>Virgin Martyr</i>, II., ii. Jove’s artillery shot down at once, to <span class="sc">pash</span> your gods in pieces. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, Dec. 9, p. 2, col. 6. A man … told witness that he would earn a sovereign if he +cared to give a certain woman—the complainant—a couple of black eyes.… His instructions +were to follow the man he met in the public-house in Bear Street, and to <span class="sc">bash</span> the woman he would point out to him in Portland Street. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">F. Anstey</span>, <i>Vice Versâ</i>, ch. xii. ‘If you have got <span class="sc">bashed</span> about pretty well since you came back, it’s been all your own fault, and you know +it.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Standard</i>, March 2, p. 6, col. 7. Mr. Hannay reminded her that when the summons was applied +for, the boy’s father had said that the boy was <span class="sc">bashed</span> on the floor, and received a black eye and a bruised head. +</p> +<p>Amongst synonyms may be mentioned the English verb ‘bang,’ and the French <i lang="fr">bêcher</i>, <span class="pageNum" id="pb138">[<a href="#pb138">138</a>]</span>which signifies properly to dig or break up ground.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Tan</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Basher</b>, <i>subs.</i> (pugilistic).—A prize-fighter. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Bruiser</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, Dec. 16, p. 2, col. 6. According to the statement of the prosecuting solicitor, +this was the man who undertook to point out to Leech, the professed <span class="sc">basher</span>, the woman whom he was to assault in Portland Street. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bashi-Bazouk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A ruffian; and used loosely as a more or less mild term of opprobrium; +also applied to anything <i>bizarre</i> in character or composition. The expression came into vogue during the period when +the Bulgarian atrocities were electrifying the world by their barbarous cruelty. The +Bashi-bazouks are properly irregular Turkish soldiery. They are collected hastily +in times of emergency; and are, consequently, somewhat impatient of discipline, assuming +that such a commodity in its Western sense is known at all to the Tartar-descended +Turk—‘the unspeakable Turk’ as he was fitly called during the period above alluded +to. So infamous have these levies become at times, that more than once they have been +disbanded in deference to pressure brought to bear upon the Turkish authorities by +the Western powers. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bashing</b>, <i>subs.</i> (prison).—A flogging; a taste of the cat-o’-nine-tails. Prisoners condemned to this +punishment at the commencement of their term are said by their companions to receive +a <span class="sc">bashing in</span>; if they also undergo a flogging just previous to their release, it is called a <span class="sc">bashing out</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. iii., p. 157. There were the evidences of former floggings, or <span class="sc">bashings</span>, as the prisoners call them. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Basils</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—Fetters on one leg only. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Basin</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A <span class="sc">schooner</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Basing.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">That’s basing</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Basketed</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (old).—From this cockpit expression used of persons unable or unwilling to pay their +losses, and who in consequence were relegated for the rest of the day to a basket +hung over the cockpit, is derived the figurative usage in the sense of ‘to be left +out in the cold’; not understood; non-plussed; ‘floored.’ +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>b.</i> 1788, <i>d.</i> 1841. <span class="sc">Hook</span>, <i>Gerv. Skinner</i>, ch. iii. Skinner was quite enchanted with the brilliancy of his guests, although +now and then a little puzzled at their allusions; there jokes were chiefly local or +professional, and very frequently my excellent friend Gervase was, to use a modern +phrase of general acceptation, <span class="sc">basketed</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1818. <span class="sc">P. Egan</span>, <i>Boxiana</i>, vol. I., p. 79. The fight was soon over after this circumstance, and the <i>sweaters</i> and <i>trainers</i> were completely in the <span class="sc">basket</span>! +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <span class="sc">E. Yates</span>, <i>Land at Last</i>.… And find you in his den, lighting it up like—like—like—I’m regularly <span class="sc">basketed</span>, by jove! +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To be brought</span> or <span class="sc">to go to the basket</span>, <i>phr.</i> (familiar).—To be imprisoned; to be reduced to poverty. A basket is here the symbol +of daily provision, or alms. Formerly prisoners were dependent on charity for daily +sustenance, and it was customary for them to let down <span class="pageNum" id="pb139">[<a href="#pb139">139</a>]</span>a basket by a string through the gaol windows, soliciting the alms of passers-by.—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Angling for farthings</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1632. <span class="sc">Massinger and Field</span>, <i>Fatal Dowry</i>, v., 1. <i>Pontalier</i> [to Liladam, who is in custody for debt]. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Arrested! this is one of those whose base </p> +<p class="line">And abject flattery help’d to dig his grave; </p> +<p class="line">He is not worth your pity, nor my anger; </p> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">Go to the basket</span>, and repent. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1700. <i>Gentleman Instructed</i> [1732], p. 6. God be praised! I am not <span class="sc">brought to the basket</span>, though I had rather live on charity than rapine. [<span class="sc">d.</span>] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To be left in the basket</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To be rejected; abandoned; unchosen. <i>Cf.</i>, second quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>I. L.</i> (<i>House Warning</i>). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Whatever he wants, he has only to ask it, </p> +<p class="line">And all other suitors are <span class="sc">left in the basket</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1874. <i>Bell’s Life</i>, 26 Dec. The pick of the <span class="sc">basket</span>, a compact young greyhound. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Basket-Making</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—When <i>enceinte</i> a woman was formerly said ‘to have a kid in the <span class="sc">basket</span>.’ [<i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bay-window</span>.] Hence <span class="sc">basket-making</span> to signify the act of copulation. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bass</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A familiar abbreviation for Bass’ ale, brewed at Burton-on-Trent. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Rev. E. Bradley</span> (‘Cuthbert Bede’), <i>Adventures of Verdant Green</i>, p. 23. The young gentleman exhibited great capacity for the beer of <span class="sc">Bass</span>, and the porter of Guiness. +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <span class="sc">Oudia</span>, <i>Held in Bondage</i>, I., p. 65. Those idle lads in the Temple, who smoke cavendish and drink <span class="sc">Bass</span>. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 126. Discussing <span class="sc">Bass</span> and a cold luncheon. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Only a Clod</i>, I., p. 138. A lot of fellows drinking no end of <span class="sc">Bass</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">18(?). <span class="sc">Annie Thomas</span>, <i>A Passion in Tatters</i>, I., p. 110. <span class="sc">Bass</span> that was not worthy of its name. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baste</b>, <i>verb</i> (colloquial).—To thrash; to beat soundly. This verb is given a place here for the +purpose of comparison, as it is somewhat uncertain whether it can with propriety be +classed as slang. Of uncertain origin, but dating from the sixteenth century; <span class="sc">to baste</span>, properly ‘to sew together loosely,’ or ‘to apply fat or gravy to a joint,’ is, in +its figurative usage, of more than passing interest when compared with <span class="sc">anoint</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), and other words employed in the same figurative sense. It is curious indeed to +note the many synonymous analogues for a good beating or thrashing, all of which pertain +more or less to slang. R. W. Hackwood [<i>N. and Q.</i>, 7 S., vii., 153] mentions several, amongst others <span class="sc">colting</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), used by Marryat in <i>Midshipman Easy</i>. As bearing upon the general idea involved in this class of words, the quotation +may be placed side by side with another from the <i>King’s Own</i> by the same writer. +</p> +<p class="cit">1830. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>King’s Own</i>, ch. vii. ‘He always carried in his pocket a <span class="sc">colt</span> (<i>i.e.</i>, a foot and a half of rope, knotted at one end and whipped at the other), for the +benefit of the youngsters, to whom he was a most inordinate tyrant.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Midshipman Easy</i>, ch. xii. ‘Then he <span class="sc">colted</span> me for half-an-hour, and that’s all.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Colting</span> like <span class="sc">basting</span> is of uncertain derivation. Comparing it, however, with analogous words, may we not +take it, continues the writer referred to, as very closely associated <span class="pageNum" id="pb140">[<a href="#pb140">140</a>]</span>with, if not actually belonging to, the series of synonyms for the operations which +derive their origin from the shoemakers, curriers, and allied trades, as we find it +in ‘a leathering,’ ‘a strapping,’ ‘a tanning,’ ‘a welting,’ etc<span class="corr" id="xd33e21995" title="Source: ?">.</span> Indeed, it is worth noting in this connection, from the number of epithets applied +to the operation, what a deal of chastising has apparently been required in most trades +and occupations, for nearly all—except, perhaps, the carpenter’s, where sticks are +plentiful—appear to be represented, and even in the domestic circle one can have a +choice of ‘a towelling,’ ‘a basting,’ ‘a clouting,’ ‘a rubbing down,’ ‘a dressing,’ +‘a trimming,’ or ‘a wiping’ when occasion requires. +</p> +<p class="cit">1533. <span class="sc">Bellenden</span>, <i>Livy</i>, III. (1822), 223. He departit weil <span class="sc">basit</span> and defuleyeit of his clothing. +</p> +<p class="cit">1599. <span class="sc">Greene</span>, <i>George-a-Greene</i>, in wks. (Grosart) XIV., 174. Ile <span class="sc">baste</span> you both so well, you were neuer better <span class="sc">basted</span> in your liues. +</p> +<p class="cit">1605. <i>Tryall of Chevalry</i>, III., i., in Bullen’s <i>Old Plays</i>, iii., 305. But, had I knowne as much, I would have <span class="sc">basted</span> him till his bones had rattled in his skin. +</p> +<p class="cit">1611. <span class="sc">Beaumont</span>, <i>Knight of Burning Pestle</i>, II., iv. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Look on my shoulders, they are black and blue; </p> +<p class="line">Whilst to and fro fair Luce and I were winding, </p> +<p class="line">He came and <span class="sc">basted</span> me with a hedge-binding. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1660. <span class="sc">Pepys</span>, <i>Diary</i>, July 22. One man was <span class="sc">basted</span> by the keeper, for carrying some people over on his back, through the water. +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <span class="sc">Martin</span>, <i>Eng. Dict.</i>, 2 ed. <span class="sc">To baste</span> or <span class="sc">bast</span> … to beat, or bang soundly. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">Mrs. H. Wood</span>, <i>Johnny Ludlow</i>, 1 S., xix., p. 328. ‘Hold your row, Davvy,’ he roared out, wrathfully: ‘you’d not +like me to come back and give you a <span class="sc">basting</span>.’ +</p> +<p>Among some <span class="sc">English Synonyms</span> may also be mentioned:—to give a hiding; to give a walloping; to dust one’s jacket; +to quilt; to tan; to set about; to walk into; to manhandle; to give one Jesse; to +give one gas; to dowse; to pay. +</p> +<p>For synonyms generally, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Tan</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baster</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—A New York cant term for a house thief. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bastile</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vagrants’).—A workhouse. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Big house</span>. Probably from the Bastile, a famous prison; lock-ups for a long time being generically +named Bastiles. Now corrupted into <span class="sc">steel</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Cuthbert Bede</span>, in <i>Graphic</i>, June 2, p. 558, col. 2. Mister Corbyn had always called the workhouse by the opprobrious +epithet of <span class="sc">the basteel</span>. +</p> +<p>(Thieves’.)—A prison.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Cage</span>. <span class="sc">Bastile</span> in this sense is mentioned by Captain Grose [1785]. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old slang).—1. A prostitute who plies her trade by night; an allusion to the nocturnal +habits of the flying mammal—indeed, another old term for a woman of the town was literally +a <span class="sc">fly-by-night</span>. The equivalent French term, <i lang="fr">hirondelle de nuit</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘a night swallow,’ is more poetic. For full lists of synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack-hack</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (American.)—A spree; frolic; and sometimes a drunken bout. A contracted form of +‘batter.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Bird o’ Freedom</i>, Aug. 7, p. 1. <i>Mr. Pote</i>: ‘I see in the evening paper <span class="pageNum" id="pb141">[<a href="#pb141">141</a>]</span>that a woman has been bitten by a bat, and afterwards died of lockjaw.’ <i>Mrs. P.</i> (tartily): ‘If she had been bitten by the kind of <span class="sc">bat</span> you went on when I was away last Saturday week, she would probably have died of <i lang="la">delirium tremens</i>.’ +</p> +<p>3. (athletic.)—Pace; speed (in walking, rowing, etc.). Partly also dialectical, especially +Scotch, Craven, and Lincolnshire. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Daily News</i>, 18 August, p. 6, col. 3. Here they come, a mixed flock of birds full <span class="sc">bat</span> overhead. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To bat one’s eyes</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—1. A South-western term which is explained by quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846. <i>Overland Monthly</i>, p. 79. The ox whip has both parts as long as they can be managed. I have seen a +poor fellow from Ohio, totally unused to this enormous affair, swing it round his +head in many an awkward twist, while the Texans stood by and laughed to see him knock +off his hat and <span class="sc">bat his eyes</span> at every twitch, to avoid cutting them out. +</p> +<p><i>Cf.</i>, Italian <i lang="it">batter d’occhio</i>, twinkling of an eye. +</p> +<p>2. (American gaming.)—To look on but not to play. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bet</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Off</span> or on <span class="sc">one’s own bat</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—On one’s own account; by one’s own exertions. A figurative usage of a +cricketing term; ‘<span class="sc">off one’s own bat</span>,’ is said of a score made by a player individually. +</p> +<p class="cit">1845. <span class="sc">Sydney Smith</span>, <i>Fragm. Irish Ch.</i>, wks. II., 340, 1. He had no revenues but what he got <span class="sc">off his own bat</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <span class="sc">Lord Lonsdale</span>, in <i>Croker Papers</i> (1884), vol. III., p. 325. Derby … would not make a Ministry <span class="sc">from</span> his own friends or <span class="sc">his own bat</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Hawley Smart</span>, <i>Social Sinners</i>, ch. xxiii. ‘You have a weakness for the great world? Good. Score <span class="sc">off your own bat</span>, and it is the great world comes to you.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Sat. Review</i>, March 8, p. 308, col. 2. He has in the most workmanlike manner, and <span class="sc">off his own bat</span>, lost for the Government an important seat by a crushing majority. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To carry out one’s bat</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—This also is derived from a cricketing expression. In the game it means +to be not out, <i>i.e.</i>, the last man in. Figuratively, therefore, <span class="sc">to carry out one’s bat</span> is to persevere and carry through an undertaking; to outlast all other opponents; +and thus to secure the result aimed at. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">M. Collins</span>, <i>Frances</i>, ch. xxviii. The General defended his stumps as he would have defended a fortress, +and <span class="sc">carried his bat out</span> with a score of a hundred and seven. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Batchelor’s Son</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A bastard. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bates’ Farm</b> or <b>Garden</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—Coldbath Fields prison. [From a warder of that name + a certain appropriateness +in the initials, C.B.F., the prison initials, and used as a stamp = <span class="sc">Charley Bates’ Farm</span>.] When, formerly, the convicts were put to the treadmill in this prison, they were +said to be ‘feeding the chickens on <span class="sc">Charley Bates’ Farm</span>.’ Newgate was also called <span class="sc">Akerman’s Hotel</span>, from a former governor, and a similar reason has caused the Melbourne gaol to be +nicknamed Castilan’s Hotel by Australian thieves. +</p> +<p class="cit">[<i>Circa</i> 1850, but date uncertain.] +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<h4><span class="sc">Bates’ Farm.</span></h4> +<div class="lg cit"> +<p class="line">Good evening pals, how do you do, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">I thought I’d give a call, </p> +<p class="line">And introduce myself to you, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">For I’m glad to see you all. </p> +<p class="line">I’m up to every little <i>fake</i>, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">But in me there’s no harm, </p> +<p class="line">For it was this <i>blooming</i> morning </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">That I left <span class="sc">Old Bates’ Farm</span>. </p> +</div> +<p><span class="pageNum" id="pb142">[<a href="#pb142">142</a>]</span></p> +</div> +<p class="first xd33e22336"><span class="asc">CHORUS.</span> +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Then, here’s success my knowing <i>kids</i>, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">I’m filled with ev’ry charm, </p> +<p class="line">I feel so gay this blessed day, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">I’ve left <span class="sc">Old Bates’ Farm</span>. </p> +</div> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Now, every morning when you rise, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">You get a starving meal, </p> +<p class="line">And if you don’t eat all they send </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">You have to work the wheel. </p> +<p class="line">Then so merrily we go, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">To chapel to have prayers, </p> +<p class="line">And for a little pastime work </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">The <i>everlasting stairs</i>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first xd33e22368">Chorus. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The last time that I went to see </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810"><span class="sc">Old Bates</span>, he shook my hand, </p> +<p class="line">And said, ‘I’m glad to see you, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">You’re a chap I understand.’ </p> +<p class="line">He said, ‘You’re here for nothing now?’ </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">I said ‘Yes,’ like the rest, </p> +<p class="line">It was only for knocking a <i>bobby</i> down, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And jumping on his chest. </p> +</div> +<p class="first xd33e22368">Chorus. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">So now I’ve got my liberty, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And once again I’m free, </p> +<p class="line">I mean to ‘<i>crack a crib</i>’ to-night. </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">But pals don’t ‘crack on me.’ </p> +<p class="line">So if I should touch lucre, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">For a time I will keep calm, </p> +<p class="line">If I don’t see you here some night, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">I shall at <span class="sc">Bates’ Farm</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first xd33e22368">Chorus. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bath.</b> <span class="sc">Go to Bath!</span> <i>phr.</i> (familiar).—This popular saying appears to have two distinct readings, both of which, +however, are traceable to the same source. +</p> +<p>1. <span class="sc">Go to Bath!</span> <i>i.e.</i>, an injunction to desist; to be gone; get out of my sight, or hearing, for you are +mad or cracked—a forcible expression of incredulity, sometimes intensified by ‘<span class="sc">and get your head shaved</span>.’ The saying is applied to those who either relate crack-brained stories, or propose +undertakings that raise a doubt as to sanity. The allusion is to the fact that, in +former days, persons who showed symptoms of insanity were sent to <span class="sc">Bath</span> to drink the medicinal waters; the process of shaving the head being previously resorted +to. +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>I. L.</i> (<i>Grey Dolphin</i>). ‘<span class="sc">Go to Bath!</span>’ said the baron. A defiance so contemptuous roused the ire of the adverse commanders. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper</i>, Oct. 16, p. 362. You tell a disagreeable neighbour to <span class="sc">go to Bath</span> in the sense in which a Roman would have said <i lang="la">abi in malam rem</i>. +</p> +<p>2. Hence, to become a beggar. Bath, especially in the latter part of the last century, +and at the beginning of the present one, enjoyed a reputation for its fashion and +baths: it was also, naturally enough, for this very reason, the resort of countless +numbers of beggars. To <span class="sc">go to Bath</span> signified, therefore, amongst vagrants, to proceed to what was in reality one of +the first centres of beggardom; presumably to solicit alms. Hence also an additional +clue to the process of transition into sense 1. What more natural than to bid an importunate +applicant to betake himself to Bath to join his fellows? Fuller in his <i>Worthies</i> has a passage which throws some additional light upon the question. +</p> +<p class="cit">1662. <span class="sc">Fuller</span>, <i>History of the Worthies of England. Beggars of Bath.</i>—Many in that place; some natives there, others repairing thither from all parts of +the land; the poor for alms, the pained for ease. Whither should flock fowl in a hard +frost, but to the barn-door? Here, all the two seasons, being the general confluence +of gentry. Indeed laws are daily made to restrain beggars, and daily broken by the +connivance of those who make them; it being impossible when the hungry belly barks, +and bowels sound, to keep the tongue silent. And although oil of whip be the proper +plaister for the cramp of laziness, yet some pity is due to impotent persons. In a +word, seeing there is the Lazar’s bath in this city, I doubt not but many a good Lazarus, +the true object of charity, may beg therein. +</p> +<p>Long previous to 1662, however, <span class="pageNum" id="pb143">[<a href="#pb143">143</a>]</span>stringent vagrant laws were in force. +</p> +<p class="cit">1588. <span class="sc">William Lambard</span>, <i>The Office of the Justices of the Peace</i>, p. 334. Such two Justices may … <i>License</i> diseased persons (living of almes) to trauell to <i>Bathe</i>, or to <i>Buckstone</i> [Buxton], for remedie of their griefe. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bathing Machines</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—A name given to the old 10 ton brigs.—<span class="sc">Russell’s</span> <i>Sailor’s Language</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bat-Mugger</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A wooden instrument used for rubbing oil into cricket bats. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bats</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A pair of bad or old boots. Elworthy in <i>West Somerset Words</i> gives this as a heavy laced boot with hobnails. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bats Down?</b> (Winchester and general).—‘<span class="sc">How many bats down?</span>’ <i>i.e.</i>, how many wickets have fallen? +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Battels</b>, <i>subs.</i> (University).—The weekly bills of students at Oxford. The derivation of the term +has been the subject of much discussion, and is very uncertain. Murray says much depends +on the original sense at Oxford: if this was ‘food, provisions,’ it is natural to +connect it with ‘battle,’ to feed, or receive nourishment.—<i>See</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886–7. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Dictionary of Oxford and Cambridge</i>, p. 16. <span class="sc">Battels</span> is properly a designation of the food obtained from the College Buttery. An account +of this, and of the account due to the Kitchen, is sent in to every undergraduate +weekly, hence these bills also are known as <span class="sc">battels</span>, and the name, further, is extended to the total amount of the term’s expenses furnished +by the College. In some Colleges it is made essential to the keeping of an undergraduates’ +term that he should <span class="sc">battel</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, obtain food in College on a certain number of days each week. +</p> +<p>To quote Dr. Murray again, however, it appears that the word has apparently undergone +progressive extensions of application, owing partly to changes in the internal economy +of the colleges. Some Oxford men of a previous generation state that it was understood +by them to apply to the buttery accounts alone, or even to the provisions ordered +from the buttery, as distinct from the ‘commons’ supplied from the kitchen: but this +latter use is disavowed by others … but whether the <span class="sc">battels</span> were originally the provisions themselves, or the sums due on account of them, must +at present be left undecided. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Cuthbert Bede</span>, <i>Verdant Green</i>, pt. II., ch. vii. The Michaelmas term was drawing to its close. Buttery and kitchen +books were adding up their sums total; bursars were preparing for <span class="sc">battels</span>. +</p> +<p>(Eton.)—<i>See</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1798. <span class="sc">H. Tooke</span>, <i>Purley</i>, 390. <span class="sc">Battel</span>, a term used at Eton for the small portion of food which, in addition to the College +allowance, the collegers receive from their dames. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Batter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Wear and tear; <i>e<span>.</span>g.</i>, ‘the <span class="sc">batter</span> is more than any human being can stand for long.<span>’</span> [From one of the ordinary meanings of <span class="sc">to batter</span>, to wear or impair by beating or long service, as a <span class="sc">battered</span> jade.] +</p> +<p><i>Ppl. adj.</i>—Given up to debauchery; this sense follows upon +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To go on the batter</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, to walk the streets for purposes of prostitution; but <i>cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bat</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb144">[<a href="#pb144">144</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Battle of the Nile</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (rhyming slang).—A ‘tile’ = a hat. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cady</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Battle Royal</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial).—A vehement quarrel. +</p> +<p class="cit">1698. <span class="sc">Howard</span>, <i>All Mistaken</i>, Act i. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>1st Nurse.</i> Your husband is the noted’st cuckold in all our street. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>2nd Nurse.</i> You lie, you jade; yours is a greater. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Phil.</i> Hist—now for a <span class="sc">battle-royal</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">18(?). <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Shabby Genteel Story</i>, ch. vi. A <span class="sc">battle-royal</span> speedily took place between the two worthy mothers-in-law. +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <i>Sketches from Cambridge</i>, p. 137. Our brethren there [in Oxford] seem to be always indulging in <span class="sc">battles-royal</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Battlings</b>, <i>subs.</i> (public schools’).—A weekly allowance of money. At Winchester it is 1s., while at +Repton it is only 6d. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Household Words</i>, p. 188. The business of the latter was to call us of a morning to distribute amongst +us our <span class="sc">battlings</span>, or pocket-money. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>, p. 184. The expense was defrayed by the boys subscribing the last three <span class="sc">battlings</span> (<i>i.e.</i>, the weekly shilling allowed each boy). This was rather an illusory coin, for we +seldom actually fingered it, as some one of the College servants generally had a kind +of prescriptive right to a benefit; and whenever Saturday arrived, Præfect of Hall’s +valet was sure to come round to ask the boys if they would give their <span class="sc">battling</span> to Rat Williams, or Dungy, or Purver, or Long John, or some other equally deserving +individual. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Trollope</span>, <i>Autobiogr.</i> (1883), I., 13. Every boy had a shilling a week pocket-money, which we called <span class="sc">battels</span>. [This is probably a misprint—the Winchester term, as that used at other schools, +is <span class="sc">battling</span>. It was advanced out of the pocket of the second master.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Battner</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—An ox; beef being apt to batten or fatten those that eat it. ‘The cove has +hushed the <span class="sc">battner</span>,’ <i>i.e.</i>, has killed the ox.—<i>Grose</i> [1785]. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Batty</b>, <i>subs.</i> (general).—Wages; perquisites. Derived from <span class="sc">batta</span>, an extra pay given to soldiers while serving in India.—<i>Hotten.</i> Col. Yule says in Indian banking, agio or difference in exchange; discount on coins +not current; or of short weight. +</p> +<p class="cit">1824. <span class="sc">T. Hook</span>, <i>Sayings and Doings</i>, 1 S., <i>Merton</i>, ch. viii. Whether he could draw full <span class="sc">batta</span> in peace-time. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Brewer</span>, <i>Phrase and Fable</i>, 5 S., ‘Batta.’ <span class="sc">Batta</span> or <span class="sc">Batty</span> (Hindustanee). Perquisites; wages. Properly, an allowance to East Indian troops in +the field. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baulk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A false report (especially that a master is at hand), which +is <span class="sc">sported</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), not spread. +</p> +<p>(Popular.)—A false shot; a mistake. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Baum</b>, <i>verb</i> (American Univ.).—To fawn; to flatter; to curry favour.—<span class="sc">Hall’s</span> <i>College Words and Phrases</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bawbels</b> or <b>Bawbles</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A man’s testicles. Originally, a provincialism. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cods</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bawcock</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A burlesque term of endearment. [From either French <i lang="fr">beau</i>, fine, + French <i lang="fr">coq</i>, cock = a fine or good ‘feller’; or from English <span class="sc">boy</span> + <span class="sc">cock</span> = a young dandy or strut.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1599. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Henry V.</i>, iii., 2, 25. <i>Pist.</i> Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould!… Good <span class="sc">bawcock</span> ’bate thy rage! +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">H. Ainsworth</span>, <i>Constable of the Tower</i>, p. 131. One of the gamesome little <span class="sc">bawcock’s</span> jests. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb145">[<a href="#pb145">145</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bawd</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A female procuress. A <span class="sc">carted bawd</span> meant one who had been placed in a cart and led through the town to make her person +known to the inhabitants. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Abbess</span>. <i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Cart</span> and <span class="sc">Barrack-hack</span> for synonyms<span>.</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bawde Phisicke.</b>—<i>See</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1560–1. <span class="sc">Awdeley</span>, <i>The XXV. orders of Knaues</i>, (ed. 1869), p. 14. <span class="sc">Bawde Phisicke</span>, is he that is a Cocke, when his Maysters meate is euyll dressed, and he challenging +him therefore, he wyl say he wyll eate the rawest morsel thereof him selfe. This is +a sausye knaue, that wyl contrary his Mayster alway. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bawdy Banquet</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Whoremongering. [From <span class="sc">bawdy</span>, lewd, + <span class="sc">banquet</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i> (1869), p. 63. ‘Where haue I bene?’ quoth he, and began to smyle. ‘Now, by the mas, +thou hast bene at some <span class="sc">baudy banquet</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bawdy Banquet</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A running after loose women; molrowing. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bawdy Basket</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—1. The twenty-third rank of canters (<i>see</i> Harman), who carried pins, tape, ballads, and obscene books to sell, but lived mostly +by stealing, +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i> (ed. 1869), p. 65. These <span class="sc">bawdy baskets</span> be also wemen, and go with baskets and Capeases on their armes, where in they haue +laces, pynnes, nedles, white ynkell, and round sylke gyrdles of al coulours. These +wyl bye co<i>n</i>neyski<i>ns and</i> steale line<i>n</i> clothes of on hedges. And for their trifles they will procure of mayden seruaunts, +whe<i>n</i> [leaf 20, back] their mystres or dame is oute of the waye, either some good peece +of béefe, baken, or chéese, that shalbe worth xij pens, for ii pens of their toyes. +And as they walke by the waye, they often gaine some money wyth their instrument, +by such as they sodaynely mete withall. The vpright men haue good acquayntance with +these, and will helpe and relieue them when they want. Thus they trade their lyues +in lewed lothsome lechery. Amongest them all is but one honest woman, and she is of +good yeares; her name is Ione Messenger. I haue had good proofe of her, as I haue +learned by the true report of diuers. +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>English Rogue</i>, pt. I., ch. v., p. 39 (1874). [In list of orders of thieves], <span class="sc">bawdy-baskets</span>. +</p> +<p>2. A prostitute; an alternative and earlier form of <span class="sc">bawd</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1589. <span class="sc">Puttenham</span>, <i>Art of Eng. Poesie</i>, bk. III., ch. xix. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Many a faire lasse in London towne, </p> +<p class="line">Many a <span class="sc">bawdie basket</span> borne vp and downe: </p> +<p class="line">Many a broker in a thridbare gowne, </p> +<p class="line">Many a bankrowte scarce worth a crowne. In London. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1608. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Belman of London</i>, in wks. (Grosart) III., 86. The victualers to the campe are women, and to those +some are <i>Glymerers</i>, some <span class="sc">bawdy-baskets</span>, some <i>Autem-Morts</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bawdy House Bottle</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—A very small one, short measure, being among the many means used by the keepers +of those houses, to gain what they call an honest livelihood; indeed, this is one +of the least reprehensible, the less they give a man of their infernal beverages for +his money, the kinder they behave to him.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bayard of Ten Toes.</b> <span class="sc">To ride Bayard of ten toes</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To go on foot. Bayard was a horse famous in old romances.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Marrow bone stage</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1606. <span class="sc">Breton</span>, <i>Good and Badde</i>, p. 14. Breton says of the ‘honest poore man,’—his trauell is the walke of the woful, +and his horse <span class="sc">Bayard of ten toes</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1662. <span class="sc">Fuller</span>, <i>Worthies, Somerset</i> (ii., 291). At last he [Coryat] undertook to travail into the East Indies by land, +mounted on <span class="sc">an horse with ten toes</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb146">[<a href="#pb146">146</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bay Window</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A slang phrase applied to women when pregnant, or men who have ‘corporations.’ +The allusion is obvious. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>B. C.</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A name jokingly applied to a person who brings a trumpery action for libel +against another. Dr. Brewer in <i>Phrase and Fable</i> thus, in effect, explains the allusion:—A young woman complained to Mr. Ingham [the +magistrate at Bow Street Police Court and now (1889) Sir James Ingham] of having been +abused by a woman who called her a <span class="sc">b. c.</span> On being asked the meaning, the young woman said <span class="sc">c</span> meant ‘cat’ but the <span class="sc">B——</span>, well, it was too shocking to utter, and the magistrate allowed her to whisper the +word in his ear. It was a well-known word of sanguinary sound; but, though <span class="sc">b.c.</span> was hardly a pretty epithet, yet his worship could hardly grant a summons for libel +against the person of whom complaint was made for using it. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beach-Cadger</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A beggar whose ‘pitch’ is at watering-places, and sea-ports. [From <span class="sc">beach</span>, the sea-shore + <span class="sc">cadger</span>, a beggar.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beach-Comber</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—1. One who hangs about the sea-shore on the look-out for jobs. It was +chiefly applied to runaway seamen, deserters from whalers, who lived along the beach +in South America, the South Sea Islands, etc. It is a term of contempt.—<span class="sc">Clark Russell’s</span> <i>Sailors’ Language</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1847. <i>Blackwood’s Magazine</i>, LXI., 757. A daring Yankee <span class="sc">beech-comber</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Athenæum</i>, 18 Dec., p. 809, col. 2. The white scamps who, as <span class="sc">beech-combers</span>, have polluted these Edens and debauched their inhabitants. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <span class="sc">A. Lang</span>, in <i>Longm. Mag.</i>, VI., 417, <i>note</i>. <span class="sc">Beach-comber</span> is the local term for the European adventurers and long-shore loafers who infest +the Pacific Archipelagoes. There is a well-known tale of an English castaway on one +of the isles, who was worshipped as a deity by the ignorant people. At length he made +his escape, by swimming, and was taken aboard a British vessel, whose captain accosted +him roughly. The mariner turned aside and dashed away a tear: ‘I’ve been a god for +months and you call me a (something alliterative) <span class="sc">beach-comber</span>!’ he exclaimed, and refused to be comforted. +</p> +<p>2. A river boatman. +</p> +<p>3<span>.</span> A thief who prowls about the sea-shore; a plunderer of wrecks; a picker-up of waifs +and strays. This is derived from sense 4. +</p> +<p>4. (American.)—A long wave rolling in from the ocean. Hence applied to those whose +occupation it is to pick up, as pirates or wreckers, whatever these waves wash in +to them. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beach-Tramper</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—A coastguardsman. [From <span class="sc">beach</span>, the shore of the sea + <span class="sc">tramp</span>, to walk along + <span class="sc">er</span>.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bead.</b> <span class="sc">To draw a bead [on one]</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—To attack an opponent by speech or otherwise. The phrase has passed into +colloquial use from backwoods parlance, where it signifies the process of taking aim +and firing. The front sight of a gun is in appearance like a <span class="sc">bead</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1841. <span class="sc">Catlin</span>, <i>North American Indians</i> (1844), I., x., 77. I made several attempts to get near enough <span class="sc">to draw a bead</span> upon one of them. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb147">[<a href="#pb147">147</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Bret Harte</span>, <i>Society on the Stanislaus</i> (in <i>Poems and Prose</i>). It is not a proper plan, to lay for that same member for <span class="sc">to put a bead on him</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">188(?) <span class="sc">S. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>Adventures of Huckleberry Finn</i>, p. 48. I was pretty close to the Shanty, and I thought I heard the old man coming +all the time; but I got her hid; and then I out and looked around a bunch of willows, +and there was the old man down the path apiece just <span class="sc">drawing a bead</span> on a bird with his gun. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Albany Journal</i>, Aug. 6. If Jake’s not careful I’ll <span class="sc">draw a bead on him</span>. Very little more will make me go for him tooth and nail. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To raise a bead.</span>—To bring to the point; to ensure success. The figure is taken from brandy, rum, or +other liquors, which will not ‘raise a bead,’ unless of the proper strength. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846. <i>N. Y. Tribune</i>, <i>Letter from Ohio</i>. The result was, if the convention had been then held, the party wouldn’t have been +able <span class="sc">to raise a bead</span>. [<span class="sc">b.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beagle</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A spy; informer; man-hunter; policeman; also a general term of contempt. [From +<span class="sc">beagle</span>, a small hound, which tracks by scent, formerly used for hunting.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1599. <i>Myrr. Mag.</i>, <i>Jack Cade</i>, xix., 2. That restless <span class="sc">begle</span> sought and found me out. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1607. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Westward Hoe</i>, Act iii., Sc. 4. <i>Mon.</i> I beseech you, Mistress Tenterhook,—before God, I’ll be sick, if you will not be +merry. <i>Mist. Ten.</i> You are a sweet <span class="sc">beagle</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Beagle</span> (s.) … also a contemptuous name given to a boy or man, as to say, <i>you are a special</i> <span class="sc">beagle</span>, is the same as, you are good for nothing. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Carlyle</span>, <i>French Revolution</i>, III., <span class="sc">vii.</span>, v., 377. Attorneys and Law-<span class="sc">beagles</span>, which hunt ravenous on this Earth. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beak</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—1. A policeman or guardian of the peace. As far as is known, this (as +‘beck’) is the oldest cant term for a member of a class of men, who, perhaps, above +all <span class="corr" id="xd33e23269" title="Source: o hers">others</span>, have been the recipients of nicknames and epithets, and these, be it noted, not +always of a complimentary character. In Harman’s <i>Caveat</i> (1573), <i>harman</i> <span class="sc">beck</span> is explained as ‘the counstable,’ <i>harmans</i> being ‘the stockes.’ The derivation of <span class="sc">beck</span> or <span class="sc">beak</span> is doubtful. Especially vague seems that which finds its source in the Saxon <i>beag</i>, a gold collar worn by civic magistrates, and an emblem of authority. This genesis +appears to be based on the later and secondary sense of <span class="sc">beak</span>, a magistrate, a meaning which it still retains. But, against this must be placed +the fact that, as the name for a watchman or guardian of the peace, <span class="sc">beak</span> boasts a much older usage. Sir John Fielding, half brother of the author of <i>Tom Jones</i>, and an active Middlesex Justice in the last century, was popularly known as the +‘Blind Beak’ [<i>c.</i> 1750]; but beyond this date no instance of this sense has been found. If, therefore, +<span class="sc">beak</span> originally signified a policeman, it is difficult to discover any connection with +the Saxon <i>beag</i>, inasmuch as watchmen are not known to have been decorated with gold collars. The +following quotations will give other illustrations, and also show that, meaning a +policeman, the term has not long been obsolete. +</p> +<p class="cit">1609. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, a Gypsy song, in <i>Lanthorne and Candlelight, etc.</i> +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The Ruffin cly the nab of the <span class="sc">Harman beck</span>, </p> +<p class="line">If we mawnd Pannam, lap or Ruff-peck, </p> +<p class="line"><span class="pageNum" id="pb148">[<a href="#pb148">148</a>]</span> </p> +<p class="line">Or poplars of yarum; he cuts, bing to the Ruffmans. </p> +<p class="line">Or else he sweares by the lightmans, </p> +<p class="line">To put our stamps in the Harmans. </p> +<p class="line">The Ruffian cly the ghost of the <span class="sc">Harman beck</span>. </p> +<p class="line">If we heaue a booth we cly the Jerke. </p> +<p class="line">If we niggle or mill a bousing ken. </p> +<p class="line">Or nip a bung that has but a win, </p> +<p class="line">Or dup the giger of a gentry cofes ken: </p> +<p class="line">To the quier cuffing we bing, </p> +<p class="line">And then to the quier-Ken to scowre the Cramp-ring, </p> +<p class="line">And then to the Trin’de on the chates, in the lightmans, </p> +<p class="line">The Bube and Ruffian cly the <span class="sc">Harman beck</span> and Harmans. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">[This is thus ‘Englished’ by <span class="sc">Dekker</span>]. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The Diuell take the Constable’s head, </p> +<p class="line">If we beg Bacon, Butter-milke or bread. </p> +<p class="line">Or Pottage, to the hedge he bids us hie, </p> +<p class="line">Or sweares (by this light) i’th’ stocks we shall lie. </p> +<p class="line">The Deuill haunt the Constable’s ghoast, </p> +<p class="line">If we rob but a booth, we are whip’d at a poast. </p> +<p class="line">If an ale-house we rob or be tane with a whore, </p> +<p class="line">Or cut a purse that has iust a penny, and no more, </p> +<p class="line">Or come but stealing in at a gentleman’s dore: </p> +<p class="line">To the Justice straight we goe, </p> +<p class="line">And then to the Jayle to be shakled: And so </p> +<p class="line">To be hang’d on the gallows i’th’ day time: the pox </p> +<p class="line">And the Deuill take the Constable and his stocks. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act ii., Sc. 6. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Land.</i> Gentlemen vagabonds; the <i>traps</i> are abroad, and half a thousand beadles and <i>beaksmen</i> are now about the door. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Billy.</i> De <span class="sc">beak</span>! oh curse a de <span class="sc">beak</span>! +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Jemmy.</i> Gemmen!—gemmen! (<i>Knocking on table to command attention.</i>) +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Jack.</i> Silence for the chair! +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Jemmy.</i> Put out the lights, put out the lights, every one shift for himself. Here, Bob, carry +me up the ladder, good luck to you do, Bob. +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Catherine</i>, ch. x. But Mrs. Polly, with a wonderful presence of mind, restored peace by exclaiming, +‘Hush, hush! the <span class="sc">beaks</span>, the <span class="sc">beaks</span>!<span>’</span> Upon which, with one common instinct, the whole party made a rush for the garden +gates, and disappeared into the fields. Mrs. Briggs knew her company: there was something +in the very name of a constable which sent them all a-flying. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> ‘Blue’ (traceable to Queen Elizabeth’s days when the colour of the uniform was the +same as now); ‘men in blue’; ‘Royal Regiment of Footguards Blue’; ‘bluebottle’ (used +by Shakspeare); ‘blew coate’ (also a Shakspearian term, and still in use); ‘Dogberry’ +(an allusion to <i>Much Ado about Nothing</i>); ‘charley’ (one of the old watchmen); ‘bobby’; ‘peeler’; ‘copper’ (a thieves’ term, +from ‘to cop’ to lay hold of); ‘crusher’ (thieves’); ‘slop’ (a back slang corruption +of ‘police’ = esclop, with <i>c</i> not sounded and shortened to ‘slop’); ‘scufter’ (a northern term, as also is the +example next following); ‘bulky’ (used by Bulwer Lytton); ‘philip’ (from a thieves’ +signal); ‘cossack’; ‘philistine’; ‘frog’ (from pouncing upon criminals); ‘Johnnie +Darby’ (a corruption of <i lang="fr">gendarme</i>); ‘Johnnie’; ‘pig’ (a plain clothes man); ‘worm’; ‘nose’; ‘nark’; ‘dee’ (a detective); +‘tec’; the C.T.A. (a circus man’s term); ‘demon’ (Australian thieves’); ‘reeler’; +‘raw lobster’ (this like ‘blue,’ etc., would appear to be a reference to the colour +of the uniform). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Un rousse</i> (popular and thieves’: <i lang="fr">roux</i> signifies ‘red,’ and red hair has always been held in contempt as indicative of treachery +and craft; hence its application by the criminal classes to their natural enemies); +<i lang="fr">un roussin</i> (thieves’: of same derivation as foregoing); <i lang="fr">un bâton de réglisse</i> <span class="pageNum" id="pb149">[<a href="#pb149">149</a>]</span>(popular: ‘a stick of liquorice’); <i lang="fr">un baladin</i> (properly ‘a mountebank, juggler, or buffoon’); <i lang="fr">une cagne</i> (popular: ‘a dog,’ <i>i.e.</i>, ‘a worthless fellow,’ ‘a slut’; <i lang="fr">cagne</i> or <i lang="fr">caigne</i> in Old French signified ‘dog,’ and was derived from the Latin <i lang="fr">canis</i>, whence <i lang="fr">caignot</i>, ‘a little dog.’ It may also be noted that, prior to the establishment of the modern +<i lang="fr">gendarmerie</i>, the archers of the watch were known as <i lang="fr">chiens-courants</i>); <i lang="fr">un cogne</i> (thieves’: another form of <i lang="fr">cagne</i>); <i lang="fr">un balai</i> (hawkers’: properly ‘a broom, brush, or besom’); <i lang="fr">un serin</i> (popular: properly ‘a canary’; <i lang="fr">serin</i> is also slang for ‘a foolish fellow,’ ‘a greenhorn’); <i lang="fr">un pousse</i> (thieves’: the guardians of public order formerly known in Paris as <i lang="fr">serjents</i> or <i lang="fr">archers de l’écuelle</i> were called <i lang="fr">pousse-culs</i>); <i lang="fr">une vache</i> (literally ‘a cow’); <i lang="fr">un arnif</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">une peste</i> (thieves’: literally ‘a plague’ or ‘torment’); <i lang="fr">une tronche â la manque</i>; <i lang="fr">un flaquadard</i>; <i lang="fr">un cabestan</i> (thieves’: properly ‘a hand-winch’; Michel thinks this is derived either from <i lang="fr">cabe</i>, ‘a dog’; or from <i lang="fr">capitan</i>, ‘a captain.’ The latter, be it noted, has also the signification of ‘hector’ or +‘braggadocio’); <i lang="fr">un raille</i> or <i lang="fr">railleux</i> (thieves’: a detective. Michel derives it from <i lang="fr">raillon</i>, a weapon with which the police were formerly armed. Victor Hugo thought it came +from the English word ‘rascal,’ but there seems little, if any, authority for this); +<i lang="fr">un sacre</i> (Nicot gives this as ‘a bird of prey,’ but Henri Estienne adds that it was used to +denote ‘one who lays hands on everything that comes in his way’; also ‘a gourmand’); +<i lang="fr">un grive</i> (thieves’: ‘a warder’ or ‘military patrol’); <i lang="fr">un laune</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">un flique</i> (popular: also a petty police magistrate. Thought to be a corruption of <i lang="fr">friquet</i>, another opprobrious term for a police man); <i lang="fr">un bec du gaz</i>; <i lang="fr">un estaffier</i> (familiar: also, among thieves, ‘a cat’); <i lang="fr">une bourrique</i> (thieves’: also ‘an informer’); <i lang="fr">un pousse trottoir</i> (<i lang="fr">pousse</i> from <i lang="fr">pousser</i>, ‘to push’; <i lang="fr">trottoir</i>, a footpath); <i lang="fr">un lampion rouge</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">un escargot de trottoir</i> (popular: literally ‘a snail of the footpath’); <i lang="fr">un cierge</i> (thieves’: properly ‘a wax taper’); <i lang="fr">un sergo</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">un grippe-Jesus</i> (a term used by thieves in the north of France, and by seafaring men which, says +Michel, might lead one to suppose that gendarmes only arrested innocent persons); +<i lang="fr">un pince sans rire</i> (thieves’: a sly, malicious person); <i lang="fr">un pot â tabac</i> (popular: ‘a tobacco jar’); <i lang="fr">un singe de la rousse</i> (<i lang="fr">singe</i> = monkey, <i lang="fr">de la rousse</i>, ‘of the police force’). +</p> +<p>For <span class="sc">German Synonyms</span>, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Copper</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Italian Synonyms.</span> <i lang="it">Un’ zaffo</i> (literally ‘a bung’ or ‘tipstaff’); <i lang="it">un’ foco</i> or <i lang="it">un’ fuoco</i> (literally ‘fire’). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Spanish Synonyms.</span> <i lang="es">Uno mastin</i> (literally ‘a mastiff’ or ‘bulldog’; ‘a clumsy fellow’; ‘a clown’); <i lang="es">una harpia</i> (<i lang="es">un harpeo</i> = ‘grapnel’ or ‘grappling-iron’); <i lang="es">una fiera</i> (properly ‘a wild beast’). +</p> +<p>2. (popular.)—A magistrate. <i>Cf.</i> foregoing, much of which has reference to this secondary meaning of <span class="sc">beak</span>. Sometimes Called <span class="sc">a beak of the law</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb150">[<a href="#pb150">150</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Oliver Twist</i>, ch. viii. ‘My eyes, how green!’ exclaimed the young gentleman. ‘Why a <span class="sc">beak’s</span> a madgst’rate.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">18(?) <span class="sc">Hood</span>, <i>Tale of a Trumpet</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The pies and jays that utter words, </p> +<p class="line">And other Dicky gossips of birds, </p> +<p class="line">Who talk with as much good sense and decorum, </p> +<p class="line">As many <span class="sc">beaks</span> who belong to the quorum. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1881. <i>Punch</i>, Dec. 3, 258. <span class="sc">A pair of anti-vivisectionists.</span> <i>Sir Slangsby Jaunter.</i> ‘See that old fellow, Miss Diana? That’s Doctor Katchett, who swears he’s going to +find a cure for <i>lunatics</i>! Just got into trouble. Been trying the effects of extreme terror and bodily fatigue +on a rabbit, and <i>without chloroform</i>, too, the old ruffian! And then he killed it, and dissected its brain. Going to be +had up before the <span class="sc">beak</span> for it! Bow St., you know!’ <i>Miss Diana.</i> ‘Serve him right, horrid man! Don’t want to know about such people. But talking of +rabbits, what a splendid run that second <i>Hare</i> gave us to-day! Thirty minutes gallop without a check!—Wasn’t it lovely!—And I was +in at the death!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Pall Mall Gaz.</i>, Oct. 12, p. 5, col. 2. Taken before some French <span class="sc">beak</span> whom he did not know, and an interpreter brought, the ‘cotched’ culprit was made +to pay 20 f., his friend escaping because he was not caught red-handed. +</p> +<p>An <span class="sc">English Synonym</span> is ‘queer cuffin’ (old cant). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Un sapeur</i> (thieves’: properly ‘a sapper,’ <i>i.e.</i>, ‘one who undermines’ [one’s chances of wrong doing]); <i lang="fr">un pante en robe</i> (<i lang="fr">pante</i> in French slang is equivalent to ‘a man’ or ‘cove’; <i lang="fr">en robe</i> = ‘in a robe’); <i lang="fr">un endormi</i> (popular: properly ‘a sleepy-head’); <i lang="fr">un grignon</i> (thieves’: probably from <i lang="fr">grigner les dents</i>, ‘to show one’s teeth threateningly’; or from <i lang="fr">grognon</i>, ‘grumbler,’ ‘growler’); <i lang="fr">un gerbier</i>; <i lang="fr">un curieux</i> (thieves’: <i>i.e.</i>, ‘the curious one’; from the <i>adj.</i> <i lang="fr">curieux</i>. Michel, however, adds that <i lang="fr">curieux</i> formerly signified ‘a courtier’); <i lang="fr">un singe à rabat</i> (thieves’: possibly <i lang="fr">rabat</i> is an abbreviated form of <i lang="fr">rabat-joie</i>, ‘a wet blanket.’ The phrase would then mean ‘a baboon with a wet blanket,’ ‘a damper’; +or it may be derived from <i lang="fr">singe</i>, a monkey + <i lang="fr">rabat</i>, slang for ‘a cloak.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="fr">singe de la rousse</i>); <i lang="fr">un lustre</i> (thieves’: properly ‘renown’; ‘distinction’); <i lang="fr">un pant’ de la magistrat’ muche</i> (thieves’). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Italian Synonym.</span> <i lang="it">Un antigo</i> (literally ‘an old one’; also ‘a master,’ ‘a boss’). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Spanish Synonym.</span> <i lang="es">Sombrador</i> (thieves’ and popular: from <i lang="es">sombra</i>, ‘shade’; <i>i.e.</i>, one who puts in the shade. <i lang="es">Poner â la sombra</i> is ‘to imprison’). +</p> +<p>3. (popular.)—The nose. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Conk</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1598. <span class="sc">Florio.</span> <i>Naso adunco</i>, a <span class="sc">beake-nose</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Newcomes</i>, I., 296. The well-known hooked <span class="sc">beak</span> of the old countess. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <span class="sc">E. C. Clayton</span>, <i>Cruel Fort</i>, I., 143. A large, fat, greasy woman, with a prominent <span class="sc">beak</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">E. C. Grenville Murray</span>, <i>The Member for Paris</i>, I., p. 80. It was not the most agreeable thing in the world to be suddenly interrupted +in a mantel-shelf conversation by a gentleman with a firm <span class="sc">beak-nose</span> and a red rosette in his button-hole. +</p> +<p>4. (Eton and Marlborough Schools.)—A master. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beaker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A fowl. Sometimes shortened into <span class="sc">beak</span>. The derivation is obviously an illusion to the beak or horny mandibles of poultry. +Formerly called <span class="sc">cackling-cheat</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), and by French thieves <i lang="fr">une estable</i>, or <i lang="fr">une estaphle</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beaker-Hunter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A poultry yard thief. Also <span class="sc">beak-hunter</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb151">[<a href="#pb151">151</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Snowden</span>, <i>Mag. Assistant</i>, 3 ed., p. 445. A poultry stealer. A <span class="sc">beaker-hunter</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beak-Gander</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A judge of the Superior Courts. [From <span class="sc">beak</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), a magistrate + <span class="sc">gander</span>, a humorous term for an old man.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beaksman</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Beak</span> (sense 1), of which it is an alternative form. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beam Ends.</b> <span class="sc">To be thrown on one’s beam ends</span>, <i>phr.</i> (nautical).—1. To be in bad circumstances; to be at one’s last shift; hard-up; a +metaphor drawn from sea-faring life. A ship is said to be on her <span class="sc">beam ends</span> when she is so prostrated on her side by stress of weather, or shifting of cargo, +as to submerge her lee rail. +</p> +<p class="cit">1843. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Martin Chuzzlewit</i>, xl. In short, he laughed the idea down completely; and Tom, abandoning it, was <span class="sc">thrown upon his beam ends</span> again for some other solution. [<span class="sc">h.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Henry Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, III., 121. When a fellow is <span class="sc">on his beam ends</span>, as I was then, he must keep his eyes about him, and have impudence enough for anything, +or else he may stop and starve. [<span class="sc">h.</span>] +</p> +<p>2. Also, less figuratively, to be thrown to the ground; to be reduced to a sitting +or lying posture. +</p> +<p class="cit">1830. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>King’s Own</i>, xxvi. Our first lieutenant was … <span class="sc">on his beam ends</span>, with the rheumatiz. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Rev. E. Bradley</span> (‘Cuthbert Bede’), <i>Adventures of Verdant Green</i>. You get on stunningly, gig-lamps, and haven’t been <span class="sc">on your beam ends</span> more than once a minute. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bean</b> or <b>Bien</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A sovereign. Formerly a guinea. In America five-dollar gold pieces are +now called <span class="sc">beans</span>. <i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Half-bean</span> and <span class="sc">Haddock of beans</span>. In the old French cant, <i lang="fr">biens</i> meant money or property. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Canary</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> <span class="sc">Bean</span>, a guinea. <span class="sc">Half-bean.</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">H. Ainsworth</span>, <i>Rookwood</i>, bk. III., ch. ix. Zoroaster took long odds that the match was off; offering a <span class="sc">bean</span> to <i>half a quid</i> (in other words, a guinea to a half guinea). +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <span class="sc">D. C. Murray</span>, <i>Rainbow Gold</i>, bk. V., ch. vi. ‘Here’s some of the <span class="sc">beans</span>,’ he continued figuratively, as he drew five sovereigns from the same pocket, and +surveyed them in his great brown palm. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Full of beans</span>, <i>phr.</i> (society).—In good form or condition; as full of health, spirits, or capacity as +a horse after a good feed of beans. Among the ancients the word signified venery; +possibly, therefore, a more esoteric meaning may be attached to it than commonly supposed.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Beany</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Sporting Times</i>, June 29. The tennis-ground [was] a pretty place, overlooking the harbour, and surrounded +by trees and female beauty. The game began. ‘Ich dien,’ shouted Jack, as <span class="sc">full of beans</span> as the Prince of Wales’ plume, and immediately sent a ball which went bang through +the window of an adjoining house. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To give beans</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To chastise; to give a good drubbing. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Tan</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Like beans</span>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (common).—In good form, style, time, etc.; with force; a general expression of approval +and praise. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Like blazes</span>, <span class="sc">bricks</span>, or <span class="sc">one o’clock</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Not to care</span>, or <span class="sc">be worth a bean</span>.—To hold in little esteem; to think lightly of; to be of little value. The allusion +is to <span class="pageNum" id="pb152">[<a href="#pb152">152</a>]</span>the small worth, or value of a bean, or ‘the black of a bean.’ A variant is <span class="sc">not worth a straw</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). Both phrases are old, <span class="sc">not worth a bean</span> being traced back to 1297. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To be beany</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To be in good humour—a metaphor also drawn from the stable. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To know beans</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—To be well informed. The phrase is incorporated into many expressions +in a very strange way; and is an allusion to the fondness of New Englanders in general, +and Bostonians in particular, for baked beans and pork, combined with a sly hit at +the assumption of superior culture on which they are supposed to insist. <span class="sc">To know beans</span>, therefore, is to be sharp and shrewd; to be within the charmed circle of the ‘cultured +elect’—in short to be fully equipped in the ‘upper storey.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Portland Transcript</i>, March 7. The pudding was pronounced a success by each member of the assembled family, +including a dainty Boston girl who, of course, <span class="sc">knows beans</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Chicago Herald.</i> One has to <span class="sc">know beans</span> to be successful in the latest Washington novelty for entertainment at luncheons. +</p> +<p>An alternative derivation may, however, be found in the English form. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To know how many blue beans make five white ones</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—This is generally put in the form of a question, the answer to which is +‘Five, if peeled,’ and those who fail to get tripped by the ‘catch’ are said ‘<span class="sc">to know how many</span>,’ etc.; in other words to be cute; knowing; wide awake. +</p> +<p class="cit">1830. <span class="sc">Galt</span>, <i>Laurie, T.</i> (1849), II., i. 42. Few men who better knew <span class="sc">how many blue beans it takes to make five</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Zoological Comparisons</i>, in <i>Broadside Ballad</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Nature and art improves us, the girls with smiles are moving us, </p> +<p class="line">Which very often ruin us there’s no gammon about that; </p> +<p class="line">Then just as we begin to know ‘<span class="sc">how many beans make five</span>,’ </p> +<p class="line">The ladies call us puppies when we at that age arrive; </p> +<p class="line">You may perchance become a deer, if in favour with some lass, </p> +<p class="line">If not you’re called a donkey, and oftentimes an ass. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1889. <i>Daily News</i>, 4 Nov., p. 6, col. 5. Mr. Gladstone and <i>The Saturday Review</i>. Sir,—My master, who is a good Conservative, lends me <i>The Saturday Review</i> to improve my mind.… It says that there were eighty-six Parnellites, and that if +Mr. Gladstone, by his wickedness, could make them leave off voting for the Tories, +and vote for him, instead of being in a minority of four, he would have had a majority +of 80. Why, Sir, the dunce of the school knows that if you take 80 from one side and +add it on to the other, the difference is not 80, but 160. It is as simple as <span class="sc">how many blue beans make five</span>. I think some people are losing their wits faster than Mr. Gladstone.—I am, Sir, +yours respectfully, <span class="sc">A Schoolboy</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Three blue beans in a blue bladder.</span>—Nares confesses his inability to discover the origin of this whimsical combination +of words, but points out that it is at least of long standing. The subjoined quotations +would seem to indicate the meaning as noisy, frothy talk; clap-trap. +</p> +<p class="cit">1600. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Old Fortunatus</i>, iii., p. 128. +</p> +<p class="cit">F. Hark, does’t rattle? +</p> +<p class="cit">S. Yes, like <span class="sc">three blue beans in a blue bladder</span>, rattle, bladder, rattle. +</p> +<p class="cit">1717. <span class="sc">Mathew Prior</span>, <i>Alma</i> (cant), I., v., 25. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line xd33e24230">They say—— </p> +<p class="line">That putting all his words together, </p> +<p class="line">’Tis <span class="sc">three blue beans in one blue bladder</span>. </p> +</div> +<p><span class="pageNum" id="pb153">[<a href="#pb153">153</a>]</span></p> +<p class="first main"><b>Bean Belly</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A nickname for a Leicestershire man; from a real or supposed fondness of the +inhabitants of this county for beans. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bean-Feast</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—An annual feast given by employers to their work-people. The derivation +is uncertain, and, at present, their is little evidence to go upon. Some have suggested +its origin in the prominence of the bean goose, or even beans at these spreads; others +refer it to the French <i lang="fr">bien</i>, good, <i>i.e.</i>, a good feast (by-the-bye, tailors call all good feeds <span class="sc">bean-feasts</span>); whilst others favour its derivation from the modern English <i>bene</i>, a request or solicitation, from the custom of collecting subscriptions to defray +the cost. All three suggestions are, at the best, unsatisfactory, and numerous objections +crop up at every turn to each of them. An annual outing of this kind is also called +a <span class="sc">wayzgoose</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Printing Times</i>, 15 Feb., 26, 2. A <span class="sc">bean-feast</span> dinner served up at a country inn. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Bath. Jour.</i>, 26 July, 6, 1. The annual grant of £20 for their <span class="sc">bean-feast</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bean-Feaster</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—One who takes part in a <span class="sc">bean-feast</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Cornh. Mag.</i>, Jan., 621. For the delectation of the bold <span class="sc">bean-feasters</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beano</b>, <i>subs.</i> (printers’).—The same as <span class="sc">bean-feast</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bean Traps</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—A swell mobsman, or stylish sharper. <span class="sc">Beans</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) are five-dollar gold pieces, and the insinuation is obvious. In old English cant +a <span class="sc">bean</span> meant a guinea, probably from the French <i lang="fr">biens</i>, property. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beany</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Full of vigour; fresh, like a bean-fed horse. Or, it may be an allusion +to the meaning of venery, which Aristotle says was attached to the word <span class="sc">beans</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">Kingsley</span>, in <i>Life</i> (1876), I., 278. The very incongruity keeps one <span class="sc">beany</span> and jolly. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <i>Daily News</i>, 27 July, 5. The horses … looked fresh and <span class="sc">beany</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bear</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Stock Exchange).—1. Applied, in the first instance, to stock sold by jobbers for +delivery by a certain date on the chance of prices falling in the meantime, thus allowing +the seller to re-purchase at a profit. The phrase was probably at first ‘to sell the +<span class="sc">bear-skin</span>,’ the buyers of such bargains being called <span class="sc">bear-skin jobbers</span> (<i>see</i> quot.), in allusion to the proverb, ‘To sell the bear’s skin before one has caught +the bear.’ So far, the origin of the phrase seems pretty clear; of the date of its +introduction, however, nothing is known. It was a common term in Stock Exchange circles, +at the time of the bursting of the South Sea Bubble in 1720, but it does not seem +to have become colloquial until much later. In these transactions no stock was passed, +the ‘difference’ being settled according to the quotation of the day, as is the practice +now in securities dealt with for ‘the account.’ At present the term for such an arrangement +is <span class="sc">time-bargain</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb154">[<a href="#pb154">154</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1709. <span class="sc">Steele</span>, <i>Tatler</i>, No. 38, p. 3. Being at that General Mart of stock-jobbers called Jonathans … he +bought the <span class="sc">bear</span> of another officer. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1719. <i>Anatomy of Change Alley</i> (<i>N. and Q.</i>, 5 S., vi., 118). Those who buy Exchange Alley bargains are styled ‘buyers of <span class="sc">bear-skins</span>.’ [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1778. <span class="sc">Bailey</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (24 ed.). To sell <span class="sc">a bear</span>, to sell what one hath not. +</p> +<p>2. Hence a dealer who speculates for a fall. The earliest instance noted of this transferred +usage is in +</p> +<p class="cit">1744. <i>London Magazine</i>, 86. These noisy devotees were false ones, and in fact were only bulls and <span class="sc">bears</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1768. <span class="sc">Foote</span>, <i>Devil upon Two Sticks</i>, Act i. A mere bull and <span class="sc">bear</span> booby; the patron of lame ducks, brokers, and fraudulent bankrupts. +</p> +<p class="cit">1774. <span class="sc">Colman</span>, <i>Man of Business</i>, iv., i., in wks. (1777) II., 179. My young master is the bull, and Sir Charles is +the <span class="sc">bear</span>. He agreed for stock expecting it to be up at three hundred by this time; but, lack-a-day, +sir, it has been falling ever since. +</p> +<p class="cit">1817. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Rob Roy</i>, ch. iv. The hum and bustle which his approach was wont to produce among the bulls, +<span class="sc">bears</span>, and brokers of Stock-alley. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Peacock</span>, <i>Gryll Grange</i>, ch. xviii. In Stock Exchange slang, bulls are speculators for a rise, <span class="sc">bears</span> for a fall. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Ally Sloper’s H. H.</i>, Aug. 3, p. 242, col. 3. Mrs. Spingles says she doesn’t wonder that the Stock Exchange +at times resembles a menagerie let loose, seeing what a lot of bulls, <span class="sc">bears</span> and stags they have at Capel Court. +</p> +<p>The French Bourse equivalent is <i lang="fr">un baissier</i>. <i>See</i> the analogous terms <span class="sc">bull</span>; <span class="sc">stag</span>; and <span class="sc">lame duck</span>. +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—The pupil of a private tutor, the latter being called a <span class="sc">bear-leader</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). From the general roughness and uncouthness of boys; a reference to the heavy build +and ungainliness of the plantigrade in question<span id="xd33e24502">.</span> Even now the youth of the rising generation are sometimes called ‘unlicked cubs.’ +Also called formerly <span class="sc">bridled-bear</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1832. <i>Legends of London</i>, II., 247. When I was the youthful <span class="sc">bear</span>—as the disciple of a private tutor is called at Oxford. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To act as a <span class="sc">bear</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <i>New York Tribune</i>, Nov. 29. There is no truth in the startling developments, implicating British officials, +in the <i>Herald’s</i> despatch.… His Lordship is wholly guiltless of the charge which the <i>Herald</i>, in its anxiety to <span class="sc">bear the market</span>, has brought against him. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Are you there with your bears?</span> <i>phr.</i> (colloquial).—A greeting of surprise at the reappearance of anybody or anything; +are you there again; or, in the words of its most recent slang equivalent, ‘What, +again! so soon?’ The phrase is explained by Joe Miller, as the exclamation of a man +who, not liking a sermon he had heard on Elisha and the <span class="sc">bears</span>, went next Sunday to another church, only to find the same preacher and the same +discourse. +</p> +<p class="cit">1642. <span class="sc">James Howell</span>, <i>Instructions for Forreine Travell</i>, sec. 3. Another when at the racket court he had a ball struck into his hazard, he +would ever and anon cry out, <i lang="fr">estes vous là avec vos ours</i>? <span class="sc">Are you there with your bears?</span> which is ridiculous in any other language but English. +</p> +<p class="cit">1740. <span class="sc">Richardson</span>, <i>Pamela</i>, III., 335. O no, nephew! <span class="sc">Are you thereabouts with your bears?</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1820. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Abbot</i>, xv. Marry, come up. <span class="sc">‘Are you there with your bears<span class="corr" id="xd33e24579" title="Source: ’?">?’</span></span> muttered the dragon. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To play the bear</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To behave in a rough and rude manner. +</p> +<p class="cit">1579. <span class="sc">Tomson</span>, <i>Calvin’s Serm. Tim.</i>, p. 473, col. 1. When we haue so turned all order vpsidowne … there is nothing but +… <span class="sc">playing the beare</span> amongst vs. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb155">[<a href="#pb155">155</a>]</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">Bear a bob</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (nautical).—1. To lend a hand; look sharp! look alive! +</p> +<p>2. (popular.)—To aid, to assist, to take part in anything. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bearded Cad</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A porter, employed by the College to convey luggage from the +railway station to the school. The term originated in an extremely hirsute individual, +who, at one time, acted in the capacity. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beard-Splitter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A man much given to the company of prostitutes; nowadays called <span class="sc">a hot member</span>, or <span class="sc">molrower</span>, which <i>see</i> for synonyms. [From <span class="sc">beard</span>, a tuft of hair + <span class="sc">splitter</span>, one who divides. The allusion is obvious.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bearer-Up.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bear up</span> and <span class="sc">Bonnet</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bear-Garden Jaw</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Rough, unmannerly speech; talk akin to that used in bear gardens and other +places of low resort. Quoted by Grose, 1785. [From <span class="sc">bear-garden</span>, a place set apart for bear baiting and other rough sports + <span class="sc">jaw</span>, talk or speech.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">John Forster</span>, <i>Life of Oliver Goldsmith</i>, bk. IV., chap. xi. He called Burke a <span class="sc">bear-garden railer</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <span class="sc">Archibald Forbes</span>, <i>My Experience of the War between France and Germany</i>, p. 301. <span class="sc">The bear-garden-like Babel</span> was rather more noisy than usual. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Be-Argered</b>, <i>adj.</i> (familiar).—Drunk. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bearing</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (Stock Exchange).—Acting as a <span class="sc">bear</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); or using artifices to lower the price of stock to suit a ‘bear’ account. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bearings.</b> <span class="sc">To bring one to one’s bearings</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (colloquial).—To bring one to reason; to act as a check. A nautical term. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bear-Leader</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A travelling tutor. In the days when it was customary to send ‘young hopefuls’ +on the Grand Tour, the expression was much more common and significant than is nowadays +the case. The simile is taken from a person who leads about a tame bear for exhibition. +</p> +<p class="cit">1749. <span class="sc">Walpole</span>, <i>Lett. to Mann</i>, 4 June (1883), vol. II., p. 392. I shall not wonder if she takes me for his <span class="sc">bear-leader</span>, his travelling governor! +</p> +<p class="cit">1756. <span class="sc">Foote</span>, <i>Englishman Returned from Paris</i>, Act i. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Serv.</i> My young master’s travelling tutor, sir, just arrived. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Crab.</i> … Shew him in. This <span class="sc">bear-leader</span>, I reckon now, is either the clumsy curate of the knight’s own parish church, or +some needy highlander. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">Combe</span>, <i>Dr. Syntax, Tour I</i> ch. xxiii. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">And as I almost wanted bread, </p> +<p class="line">I undertook a <span class="sc">bear to lead</span>, </p> +<p class="line">To see the brute perform his dance </p> +<p class="line">Through Holland, Italy, and France; </p> +<p class="line">But it was such a very Bruin, +</p> +<p class="line">. . . . . . . . . +</p> +<p class="line">I took my leave, and left the <i>cub</i> </p> +<p class="line">Some humbler Swiss to pay and drub. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1848. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Book of Snobs</i>, ch. vii. They pounced upon the stray nobility, and seized young lords travelling +with their <span class="sc">bear-leaders</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bearskin-Jobber</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Stock Exchange).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bear</span>, <i>subs.</i>, sense 1. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bear Up</b>, <i>verb</i> (common).—To cheat; to swindle in any way; more particularly applied to the action +of ‘decoys’ and <span class="pageNum" id="pb156">[<a href="#pb156">156</a>]</span>confederates.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bonnet</span>. The derivation is obviously from that sense of <span class="sc">to bear up</span>, signifying support or backing up. +</p> +<p class="cit">1828. <span class="sc">G. Smeeton</span>, <i>Doings in London</i>, p. 40. The billiard-marker refused to make any division of the spoil, or even to +return the £10 which had been lost to him in <span class="sc">bearing up</span> the cull. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Referee</i>, Dec. 2, p. 2, col. 4. This looks as if the <span class="sc">bearing up</span> and ‘bonneting’ which has been done by friendly writers in response to my remarks +is all thrown away. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beast</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. Applied to anything unpleasant; or, to that which displeases; <i>e.g.</i>, ‘It’s a perfect <span class="sc">beast</span> of a day,’ for ‘it’s an unpleasant day.’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Beastly</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (American cadet.)—A name given to new cadets at the U.S. Military Academy at West +Point.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Snooker</span>. +</p> +<p>3. (Cambridge University.)—Anyone who has left school and come up to Cambridge for +study, before entering the University, is called a <span class="sc">beast</span>, because ‘he is neither man nor boy.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beastly</b>, <i>adv.</i> (popular).—In modern colloquial usage applied to whatever may offend the taste. Akin +also to ‘awful,’ ‘everlasting,’ etc.—when used as mere intensitives, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘very,’ ‘exceedingly.’ [Originally from <span class="sc">beastly</span>, of, or pertaining to the nature of a beast; hence, figuratively, brutish, irrational, +unmanly; whence, through a series of transitions, its slang significations.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1611. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Roaring Girle</i>, wks., 1873, III., 159. I thought ’twould bee a <span class="sc">beastly</span> iourney. +</p> +<p class="cit">1778. <span class="sc">Johnson</span>, in D’Arblay <i>Diary, etc.</i> (1876), vol. I., p. 37. ‘It moves my indignation to see a gentleman take pains to +appear a tradesman. Mr. Braughton would have written his name with just such <span class="sc">beastly</span> flourishes!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, 24 Oct., p. 5, col. 3. He was in good health … looked almost ‘<span class="sc">beastly</span> well,’ as I once heard it described. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">F. Anstey</span>, <i>Vice Versâ</i>, ch. i. He had a troublesome dryness in his throat, and a general sensation of dull +heaviness, which he himself would have described—expressively enough, if not with +academical elegance—as ‘feeling <span class="sc">beastly</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beast with Two Backs</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—Explained in second quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1602. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Othello</i>, Act i., Sc. 1. <i>Brabantio</i>: What profane wretch art thou? <i>Iago</i>: I am one, Sir, that comes to tell you, your daughter and the Moor are now making +the <span class="sc">beast with the two backs</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Classical Dictionary of Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Beast with two backs</span>, a man and woman in the act of copulation. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—1. This word is used in many ways, its precise meaning often depending +on its qualifying adjective. It is said of both men and things; for example, a <i>live</i> <span class="sc">beat</span> is anybody or anything that surpasses another, and the sense is not derogatory in +the least. A <i>dead</i> <span class="sc">beat</span>, on the other hand, is the name given to a man who sponges on his fellows. [Probably +from that sense of <span class="sc">beat</span> signifying to overcome; to show oneself superior to, either in a good or bad sense]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>New York Tribune</i>, May 16. As we pay big money for our special news, we can’t afford to throw it away +on account of a little mistake in the name. So we shove her in with the single remark +that it is better to have a Carrot for a President than a <span class="sc">dead beat</span> for a son-in-law. In this way, we again score <span class="pageNum" id="pb157">[<a href="#pb157">157</a>]</span>a <span class="sc">live beat</span> on the galoot ‘The Rip-snorter.’ Whoopee! Now is the time to subscribe. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>New York Mercury</i>, Aug. 7. But not only steamboats and locomotives were used by reporters for <span class="sc">beats</span>, but one newspaper man named Monroe F. Gale made a trip across the Atlantic in a +pilot-boat, to get some peculiar news in his own fashion. All things taken into consideration, +there never was a bolder voyage over the Atlantic than this made by the ‘Romer,’ all +for the sake of a few ‘points’ in news. +</p> +<p>2. (popular.)—The round of a policeman or watchman when on duty; one’s daily round +of duty, work, etc.; and, figuratively, one’s sphere of influence. +</p> +<p class="cit">1788. <span class="sc">G. A. Stevens</span>, <i>Adv. of a Speculist</i>, i., 211. The first evening I took my stand in Fleet Street, to look out for a fare, +I was drove from street to street by women of my own profession, who swore I should +not come in their <span class="sc">beats</span> until I had paid my ‘footing.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Sketches by Boz</i>, p. 31. The costermongers repaired to their ordinary <span class="sc">beats</span> in the suburbs. +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <i>Saturday Review</i>, 15 March, 295. Ask him why anything is so-and-so, and you have got out of his <span class="sc">beat</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p><i lang="fr">Faire sa nouveauté</i> is said of a French prostitute when seeking fresh fields and pastures new. +</p> +<p><i>Ppl. adj.</i> (popular).—1. Overcome; exhausted; ‘done up.’ Generally <span class="sc">dead-beat</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). [A shortened form of <span class="sc">beaten</span>.]—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Beaten out</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1832. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Jerome, etc.</i>, wks. II. (1862), 558. Till fairly <span class="sc">beat</span>, the saint gave o’er, [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">H. Kingsley</span>, <i>Geoffery Hamlyn</i>, ch. xxxvii. ‘The lad was getting <span class="sc">beat</span>, and couldn’t a’gone much further.’ +</p> +<p>2. Hence also, figuratively, to be baffled; defeated. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (American).—To swindle; to deceive; to cheat. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Daily Inter-Ocean</i>, Ap. 12. Later he heard of her marriage to some lawyer or artist named Diss Debar. +Previous to this she had been in Montreal and telegraphed that she was dying. She +<span class="sc">beat</span> the hotel out of a hundred dollars. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Daisy beat</span> (American thieves’).—A swindle of the first water; a robbery of magnitude. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To beat hollow</span>—<span class="sc">to sticks</span>—<span class="sc">to ribands</span>—<span class="sc">to fits</span>—<span class="sc">all creation</span>—<span class="sc">to shivers</span>, etc. (popular).—To excel; to surpass. +</p> +<p class="cit">1759. <span class="sc">Townley</span>, <i>High Life Below Stairs</i>, I., ii. Crab was <span class="sc">beat hollow</span>, Careless threw his rider, and Miss Slammerkin had the distemper. +</p> +<p class="cit">1847. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>Ingoldsby Legends</i> (1877), p. 55. Many ladies … were <span class="sc">beat all to sticks</span> by the lovely Odille. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>General Bounce</i>, ch. i. Talk of climate! a real fine day in England, like a really handsome Englishwoman, +<span class="sc">beats creation</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>Kate Coventry</i>, ch. i. I rode a race against Bob Dashwood the other morning, … and <span class="sc">beat him all to ribands</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">Lowell</span>, <i>Poetical Works</i>, 418. And there’s where I shall <span class="sc">beat them hollow</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Modern Society</i>, 19 Oct., p. 1302. (How the Nobility live in Germany.) Germans <span class="sc">beat the English hollow</span> at drinking beer; the ladies drink it, and the children also, like milk; and it seems +to agree with them, for they are very robust. They are not ceremonious at any meal, +and eat as if in a hurry for a train, cutting up all on their plate first, then forking +it in with the aid of bread or their fingers. +</p> +<p>The French say <i lang="fr">arriver bon premier</i>, ‘to arrive’ or ‘be a good first.’ <i>Cf.</i>, synonyms in A1. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To get a beat on</span> is to get the advantage of. The same idea is expressed in the phrase <span class="sc">to beat one’s way through the world</span>; in other words, to push one’s interests with vigour and pertinacity. As used by +thieves and their associates, <span class="sc">to <span class="pageNum" id="pb158">[<a href="#pb158">158</a>]</span>get a beat on one</span>, besides conveying the idea of obtaining an advantage, also implies that the point +has been scored by underhand, secret, or unlawful means. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To beat the booby</span> or <span class="sc">goose</span>, <i>phr.</i> (nautical).—To strike the hands across the chest and under the armpits to warm them. +Formerly to <span class="sc">beat Jonas</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Times</i>, 15 March, p. 9, col. 6. The common labourers at outdoor work were <span class="sc">beating goose</span> to drive the blood from their fingers. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To beat the road</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—To travel by rail without paying.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Dead-heads</span> and <span class="sc">To beat</span>, sense 1. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">That beat’s the Dutch!</span>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Dutch</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beat Daddy Mammy</b> (old military).—To tattoo; to practice the elements of drum beating. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beaten Down to Bed-Rock</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (American).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bedrock</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beaten Out</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> with <i>adv.</i> (common).—Impoverished; in one’s last straits; hard up. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, I., p. 351. The <span class="sc">beaten out</span> mechanics and artisans, who, from want of employment in their own trade, take to +making small things. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 400. The last class of street sellers is the <span class="sc">beaten out</span> mechanic or workman. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beater-Cases</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Boots or shoes. Nearly obsolete. <span class="sc">Trotter-cases</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) is the usual term nowadays.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Beaters</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beaters</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—The feet. [A transferred sense of <span class="sc">beater</span>, originally signifying one who ‘beat’ or walked the streets. Barclay, in <i>Shyp of Folys</i> (1509), speaks of ‘night watchers and <span class="sc">beters</span> of the stretes.’] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Creepers</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beat the Hoof</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (popular).—To walk; to plod; to prowl. [From <span class="sc">beat</span>, in the sense of to strike the ground in walking, etc., + <span class="sc">hoof</span>, a humorous term for the foot.] <span class="sc">To beat the hoof</span> is an older form of the modern <span class="sc">pad the hoof</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1596. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Merry Wives of Windsor</i>, Act i., Sc. 3. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line"><i>Falstaff</i>: Hold, sirrah, [to <i>Robin</i>] bear you these letters tightly; </p> +<p class="line">Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores.— </p> +<p class="line">Rogues, hence, avaunt! vanish like hailstones, go; </p> +<p class="line">Trudge, <span class="sc">plod away, o’ the hoof</span>; seek shelter, pack! </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1691. <span class="sc">Wood</span>, <i>Ath. Oxon.</i>, II., 412. They all <span class="sc">beated it on the hoof</span> to London, [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beat the Rib.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Rib</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beau Trap</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A loose stone in a pavement, under which water lodges, and which, on being +trodden upon, squirts it up, to the great damage of clean clothes. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—Also a well-dressed sharper, on the look out for raw country visitors and +such like. +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—A fop, well-dressed outwardly indeed, but whose linen, person, and habits +generally, are unclean. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beauty</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American cadet).—A term applied, on the rule of contrary, to the plainest or ugliest +cadet in the class at the United States Military Academy <span class="pageNum" id="pb159">[<a href="#pb159">159</a>]</span>at West Point. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Snooker</span> and <span class="sc">Babe</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beauty-Sleep</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—Sleep before midnight, the idea being that early hours conduce to health +and beauty. +</p> +<p class="cit">1850. <span class="sc">Smedley</span>, <i>Frank Fairleigh</i>, II., p. 120. The fair pupils have talked themselves to sleep, which, if report does +not belie them, is not until they have forfeited all chance of adding to their attractions +by getting a little <span class="sc">beauty-sleep</span> before twelve o’clock. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Kingsley</span>, <i>Two Years Ago</i>, ch. xv. ‘Are you going? it is not late; not ten o’clock yet.’ ‘A medical man, who +may be called up at any moment, must make sure of his <span class="sc">beauty-sleep</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <span class="sc">Blackmore</span>, <i>Lorna Doone</i>, ch. lxiv. Would I please to remember that I had roused him up at night, and the +quality always made a point of paying four times over for a man’s loss of his <span class="sc">beauty-sleep</span>. I replied that his loss of <span class="sc">beauty-sleep</span> was rather improving to a man of so high a complexion. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Jas. Payn</span>, <i>Confid. Agent</i>, ch. iii. ‘You must get your <span class="sc">beauty-sleep</span>,’ cried he to his wife when Barlow had departed, ‘or you will have no colour in your +cheeks to-morrow.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beaver</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. An old term for a hat; <span class="sc">goss</span> or <span class="sc">cady</span>, however, is more frequently heard nowadays. At one time hats were made of beaver’s +fur—hence the name; the term is still occasionally applied to tall ‘chimney-pot hats,’ +in spite of the fact that for many years silk has replaced the skin of the rodent +in their manufacture. +</p> +<p class="cit">1528. <span class="sc">Roy</span>, <i>Sat.</i> To exalte the thre folde crowne Of anti-christ hys <span class="sc">bever</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1661. <span class="sc">Pepys</span>, <i>Diary</i>, 27 June. Mr. Holden sent me a <span class="sc">bever</span>, which cost me £4 5s. +</p> +<p class="cit">1712. <span class="sc">Gay</span>, <i>Trivia</i>, bk. II., l., 277. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The broker here his spacious <span class="sc">beaver</span> wears, </p> +<p class="line">Upon his brow sit jealousies and cares. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1855. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Newcomes</i>, ch. ix. ‘Had you not better take off your hat?’ asks the Duchess, pointing … to +‘the foring cove’s’ <span class="sc">beaver</span>, which he had neglected to remove. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">O. W. Holmes</span>, <i>Autocrat of the Breakfast Table</i>, ch. x. We know this of our hats, and are always reminded of it when we happen to +put them on wrong side foremost. We soon find that the <span class="sc">beaver</span> is a hollow cast of the skull, with all its irregular bumps and depressions. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">In beaver</span>, <i>phr.</i> (University).—In a tall hat and non-academical garb, as distinguished from cap and +gown. +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <i>New Monthly Magazine</i>, lix., 271. He … went out of College in what the members of the United Service called +mufti, but members of the University <span class="sc">beaver</span>, which means not in his academics—his cap and gown. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p><i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Bever</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beck</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—1. A constable.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Beak</span> and <span class="sc">Copper</span>. +</p> +<p>2. A parish beadle. Apparently the term was applied to all kinds of watchmen.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Harman-beck</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (thieves’).—To imprison. Amongst Dutch thieves <i lang="nl">bekaan</i> has the same signification, imprisoned. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Reade</span>, <i>Cloister and Hearth</i> ch. lv. The circle with the two dots was writ by another of our brotherhood, and +it signifies as how the writer … was <span class="sc">becked</span>, was asking here, and lay two months in Starabin. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bed.</b> <span class="sc">To put to bed with a pickaxe and shovel</span> (common).—To bury. For analogous expressions, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Ladder</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1881. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘Hands off’— +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Kitty Crea, some fine day, when I’m laid in the clay, </p> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">Put to bed with a spade</span> in the usual way, <span class="pageNum" id="pb160">[<a href="#pb160">160</a>]</span></p> +<p class="line">And yourself on the shelf a neglected old maid, </p> +<p class="line">Troth, your conscience will sting you, I’m greatly afraid. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bedder</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Cambridge University).—A charwoman; one who makes the beds and performs other necessary +domestic duties for residents in college. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bed-Fagot</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—1. Applied contemptuously to a woman; <i>Cf.</i>, ‘hussy,’ ‘witch,’ etc. +</p> +<p>2. Synonymous with prostitute. For full list of analogous terms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack-hack</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bedfordshire</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—A humorous term for bed. There are several other phrases of a kindred +character; as, for example, <span class="sc">Sheet Alley</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); <span class="sc">Blanket Fair</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); <span class="sc">The Land of Nod</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1665. <span class="sc">Cotton</span>, <i>Poet. Wks.</i> (1765), 76. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Each one departs to <span class="sc">Bedfordshire</span>. </p> +<p class="line">And pillows all securely snort on. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1738. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Polite Conversation</i> (conv. iii.). +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Lady Ans.</i> I’m sure ’tis time for all honest folks to go to bed. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Miss.</i> Indeed my eyes draw straws (she’s almost asleep).… +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Col.</i> I’m going to the Land of Nod. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Ner.</i> Faith, I’m for <span class="sc">Bedfordshire</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1845. <span class="sc">Hood</span>, <i>Miss Kilmansegg</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The time for sleep had come at last, </p> +<p class="line">And there was the bed, so soft, so vast, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Quite a field of <span class="sc">Bedfordshire</span> clover. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bed-House</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A place of assignation where beds can be hired for a longer or shorter +period as required—hence the name. For synonyms generally, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Nanny shop</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bedoozle</b>, <i>verb</i> (American).—To confuse; to bewilder. Probably a corrupt form of the old English verb +‘bedazzle,’ used by Shakspeare in <i>Taming of the Shrew</i>, iv., 5, 46. [1593.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bedpost.</b> <span class="sc">In the twinkling of a bedpost</span>, <i>phr.</i> (familiar).—Instantaneously; with great rapidity. Originally <span class="sc">in the twinkling of a bedstaff</span>. This phrase has given rise to not a little speculation; first, as to what use the +<span class="sc">bedstaff</span> was put; and, secondly, as to its possible connection with rapidity of motion. The +generally received explanation is that the staff referred to was, as Johnson puts +it, ‘a wooden pin stuck anciently on sides of the bedstead to hold the cloaths from +slipping on either side.’ Dr. Murray, however, points out that the great lexicographer +gave no authority, and also that ‘no corroborative evidence has been found.’ Still +it seems certain that bedstaffs were used and kept near beds for <i>some</i> purpose by our ancestors. Bobadil, in <i>Every Man in his Humour</i> [1596], uses one to display his skill with the rapier, and the following explanation +has been suggested by Mr. Thomas Boys [<i>Notes and Queries</i>, 2 S., vi., 437]. The bedstaff was an <i>upright</i> peg, fixed into the side of the bedstead after the manner of a pin, and projecting +upwards to keep the bed clothes in their place. Consequently, as offering the means +of exhibiting the use of the rapier, the wooden bedstaff may have afforded a very +available as well as harmless implement. Suppose then the bedstaff to have been an +upright peg or pin fitting into a hole or socket in the side of <span class="pageNum" id="pb161">[<a href="#pb161">161</a>]</span>the bedstead, and, in length, about equal to the rapier. The socket is a few inches +deep; and the bedstaff has (to steady it) a projecting rim which overlays the socket +like a lid. The part of the bedstaff which enters the socket will then be the <i>hilt</i> of the rapier; the projecting rim will be the <i>guard</i>; and the rest of the staff will do duty as the <i>blade</i>. In the bedstaff we have then the form of a rapier; and, with this implement of wood, +Captain Bobadil would have no difficulty in exhibiting his <i>passado</i> and <i>stoccado</i>. The rapier of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, moreover, was by no means +the light and foil-like weapon now known as the small sword. It was of great length +and heavy, and a bedstaff such as that suggested above, with a species of guard, and +most likely about the weight of a heavy single-stick, would have been no bad instrument +wherewith to indoctrinate a tyro in the noble art of self defence. +</p> +<p>Hence, probably, if this be so, the derivation of the expression, <span class="sc">in the twinkling of a bedstaff</span>; more especially if, as would occasionally be the case, it were used as a weapon +of defence against intruders, when possibly even life itself might hang upon a dexterous +use of the implement. +</p> +<p class="cit">1660. <i>Charac. Italy</i>, 78. <span class="sc">In the twinkling of a Bedstaff</span> he disrobed himself … and was just skipping into bed. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1676. <span class="sc">T. Shadwell</span>, <i>Virtuoso</i>, I., i. ’Gad, I’ll do it instantly, <span class="sc">in the twinkling of a bedstaff</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1698. <span class="sc">Ward</span>, <i>London Spy</i>, pt. XI., 259. Shake ’em off and leap into bed, <span class="sc">in the twinkling of a bedstaff</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <span class="sc">F. E. Smedley</span>, <i>Harry Coverdale</i>, ch. i. ‘I’ll adown and be with you <span class="sc">in … the twinkling of a bedpost</span>.’ +</p> +<p>Among <span class="sc">English Synonyms</span> may be included:—In a jiffy; in two two’s; in a brace of shakes; before you can say +Jack Robinson; in a crack; in the squeezing of a lemon. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Between you and me and the bedpost</span>, <i>phr.</i> (familiar).—A humorous tag to an assertion; <i>i.e.</i>, ‘between ourselves’;—‘I know what you say, but, <span class="sc">between you and me</span>, etc. … the thing is absurd.’ Sometimes the last word is varied by ‘post,’ ‘door +post,’ or ‘gate post’—any prop seems to serve. +</p> +<p class="cit">1831. <span class="sc">Bulwer Lytton</span>, <i>Eugene Aram</i>, p. 234. Ah, sir, all very well to say so; but, <span class="sc">between you and me and the bedpost</span>, young master’s quarrelled with old master. +</p> +<p class="cit">1838. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Nicholas Nickleby</i>, p. 127. And <span class="sc">between you and me and the post</span>, sir, it will be a very nice portrait too. +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <i>Punch</i>, March 8, p. 108. Discussing an absent friend. ‘Yes, Robinson’s a clever feller, +and he’s a modest feller, and he’s a honest feller; but <span class="sc">betwixt you and i and the post</span>, Mr. Jones,’ said Brown, confidentially, picking his wisdom tooth with his little +finger nail, ‘Robinson ain’t got neither the Looks, nor yet the Language, nor yet +the Manners of a Gentleman.’ +</p> +<p>‘Right you are, sir!’ said Jones, shovelling the melted remains of his Ice Pudding +into his Mouth with a Steel Knife (which he afterwards wiped on the Table Cloth). +‘You’ve ’it ’im orf t’ a T!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bedrock.</b> <span class="sc">To get down to bedrock</span> [in anything; whether in an enquiry, or in one’s circumstances, etc.].—To the bottom; +to the lowest level. A miner’s term, alluding to the solid rock underlying superficial +and other formations. Therefore, metaphorically, ‘to reach <span class="sc">bedrock</span>’ <span class="pageNum" id="pb162">[<a href="#pb162">162</a>]</span>is to attain a solid basis or foundation; <span class="sc">bedrock facts</span> are the ‘chiels that winna ding’—the incontestible and uncontrovertible truth. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Bret Harte</span>, <i>Poems and Prose</i>, p. 113. ‘No! no!’ continued T. hastily. ‘I play this yer hand alone. <span class="sc">To come down to the bedrock</span> it’s just this,’ etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <i>Scribner’s Magazine</i>, p. 277. Getting to the real character of a man is <span class="sc">coming to the bedrock</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Louisiana Press</i>, March 31. Thomas J. Whiteman, of Carrol county, is a Republican candidate for Governor +of Missouri. You can bet your <span class="sc">bedrock</span> dollar that the next governor of Missouri will be a white man, although his first +name isn’t apt to be Thomas. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bee.</b> <span class="sc">To have a bee in the head</span> or <span class="sc">bonnet</span>, <i>phr.</i> (familiar).—To be possessed of queer ideas; ‘half-cracked’; flighty. This phrase +is of considerable antiquity, being traced back to a Scotch writer, Gawin Douglas +by name [1474–1521], Bishop of Dunkeld, who used it in a translation of Virgil’s <i>Æneid</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1512–3 (translated: published in 1553). <span class="sc">Gawin Douglas</span>, <i>Æneis</i>, VIII., Prol. 120. Quhat bern be thou in bed with <span class="sc">heid full of beis</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1657. <span class="sc">Samuel Colvil</span>, <i>Whigg’s Supplication, or Scotch Hudibras</i> [1710]. Which comes from <span class="sc">brains which have a bee</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1825. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>St. Ronan’s</i>, ch. xvii. ‘Maybe ye think the puir lassie has <span class="sc">a bee in her bonnet</span>; but ye ken yoursell if naebody but wise folk were to marry, the warld wad be ill +peopled.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Bulwer Lytton</span>, <i>My Novel</i>, III., 307. It is not an uncommon crochet amongst benevolent men to maintain that +wickedness in necessarily a sort of insanity, and that nobody would make a violent +start out of a straight path unless stung to such disorder by a <span class="sc">bee in his bonnet</span>. +</p> +<p>For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Apartments to let</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Dr. Brewer</span>, <i>Dictionary of Phrase and Fable</i>, p. 77, col. 2. <span class="sc">You have a bee in your bonnet</span> or <span class="sc">your head is full of bees</span>; [<i>i.e.</i>] full of devices, crotchets, fancies, inventions, and dreamy theories. The connection +between bees and the soul was once generally maintained … the moon was called a <i>bee</i> by the priestesses of Cerës, and the word lunatic or moon-struck still means one +with ‘<span class="sc">bees in his head</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beef</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. Human flesh (a transferred sense); <i>i.e.</i>, obese; stolid; or fleshy like an ox. +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <i>Cork Examiner</i>, March 28. Chelmsford stood higher in the leg, and showed less <span class="sc">beef</span> about him. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>2. (nautical.)—By a further transition <span class="sc">beef</span> has also come to signify men; strength; or ‘hands’; ‘More <span class="sc">beef</span>!’ a bo’sun’s exhortation to extra exertion. +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <i>Cornhill Magazine.</i> Feb., ‘Life on Board a Man of War.’ Useful at the heavy hauling of braces, etc., +where plenty of <span class="sc">beef</span> is required. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>3. (common.)—The penis. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Creamstick</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To be in beef</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old)—Said only of women. It means to have carnal knowledge. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To be in a man’s beef</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To wound with a sword.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To cry</span> or <span class="sc">give beef</span>, or <span class="sc">hot beef</span>, <i>phr.</i> (thieves’).—To give an alarm; to pursue; to set up a hue and cry. It has been suggested +that <span class="sc">beef</span> in this case is a rhyming synonym to ‘thief.’ For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">To guy</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To be dressed like Christmas beef</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To be decked out in one’s best raiment; in allusion to the <span class="pageNum" id="pb163">[<a href="#pb163">163</a>]</span>‘dressing’ of Christmas beef by butchers. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To make beef</span>, <i>phr.</i> (thieves’).—To run away; to decamp. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Amputate</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Beef!</span> <i>intj.</i> (Australian).—‘Stop thief.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">To cry</span> or <span class="sc">give beef</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Beef up!</span> <i>phr.</i> (common).—‘Put on your strength!’ ‘Give a long pull and a strong pull!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beef-Brained</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Doltish; obtuse; thickheaded; a reference to the heavy, dullness of appearance +of oxen. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beef-Head</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A dolt; a stupid, thickheaded person. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Beef-brained</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beef It</b>, <i>verb</i> (common).—Considered originally a provincialism, but now common. The lower classes +in the East End of London frequently speak of <span class="sc">beefing it</span>, either in reality or anticipation (mostly latter), when referring to a meat meal, +more particularly when it happens to be beef. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beefment.</b> <span class="sc">On the beefment</span>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (thieves’).—On the alert; on the look out. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beef-Stick</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—The bone in a joint of beef. At mess it is ‘first come, best served’; +and those who come last sometimes get little more than the <span class="sc">beef-stick</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beef Straight.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Straight</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beef to the Heels, like a Mullingar Heifer</b>, <i>phr.</i> (Irish).—A stalwart man, or a fine woman; <i>i.e.</i>, one whose superiority is manifest from the crown of the head to the sole of the +foot; literally, <span class="sc">all beef down to the heels</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1880. <span class="sc">Rhoda Broughton</span>, <i>Cometh up as a Flower</i>, p. 193. Dolly was not a fine woman as they say, at all; not <span class="sc">beef to the heels</span>, by any means; in a grazier’s eye she would have had no charm whatsoever. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beef-Witted</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Beef-brained</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1594. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Terrors of the Night</i>, in wks. (Grosart) III., 257. Liues there anie such slowe yce-braind <span class="sc">beefe-witted</span> gull. +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <i>Reader</i>, 22 Aug. This British bull-neckedness, this British <span class="sc">beef-wittedness</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beefy</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Fleshy; unduly thick, or obese. [From <span class="sc">beef</span> + <span class="sc">y</span>: a transferred sense.] Also <span class="sc">beefiness</span>, <i>subs.</i>, fleshy development. The ankles of women are sometimes ungallantly spoken of as <span class="sc">beefy</span>, with which compare <span class="sc">beef to the heels</span>. A run of luck and good fortune, generally, is likewise referred to as <span class="sc">beefy</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">Sala</span>, <i>Gaslight and Daylight</i>, ch. xi. To see him in his huge shirt-sleeves, with his awkward <span class="sc">beefy</span> hands hanging inanely by his side, and his great foolish mouth open. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bee-Line.</b> <span class="sc">To take</span> or <span class="sc">make a bee-line</span> [for a place or object], <i>phr.</i> (originally American; now common).—To go direct; ‘as the crow flies’; without circumlocution. +Bees, when fully laden with pollen, make for the hive in a straight, or <span class="sc">bee-line</span>. One of the American railways is called the <span class="sc">Bee-Line Road</span> from the direct route it takes between its termini. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Straight shoot</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb164">[<a href="#pb164">164</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">J. R. Lowell</span>, <i>Biglow Papers</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The field of Lexin’ton where England tried </p> +<p class="line">The fastest colors thet she ever dyed. </p> +<p class="line">An’ Concord Bridge, thet Davis, when he came, </p> +<p class="line">Found was the <span class="sc">bee-line track</span> to heaven an’ fame, </p> +<p class="line">Ez all roads be by natur’, ef your soul </p> +<p class="line">Don’t sneak thur shun-pikes so’s to save the toll. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1874. <span class="sc">M. Collins</span>, <i>Frances</i>, ch. v. How they could follow an enemy’s trail, or <span class="sc">strike a bee-line</span> through unpathed woods to the point they sought! +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <span class="sc">Miss Bird</span>, <i>Six Mos. in Sandwich Islands</i>, Lett. xxix., p. 275 (1886). Horses cross the sand and hummocks as nearly as possible +<span class="sc">on a bee-line</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">Aldridge</span>, <i>Ranch Notes</i>, p. 78. The cattle are in great dread of this pest [the heel-fly], and the instant +an animal feels one, it hoists its tail in the air, and <span class="sc">takes a bee-line</span> for the nearest water. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beelzebub’s Paradise</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—Hell; the infernal regions. Beelzebub is a frequent mis-reading for Beelzebul, +the name given by the Jews to the prince of demons. The usage occurs in the New Testament +at Matthew x., 25, and xii., 24–27, where Beelzebub should read <i>Beelzebul</i>. The former is properly the god of the Philistines, worshipped as the destroyer of +flies [from Hebrew <i lang="und">baal</i>, lord + <i lang="und">zebub</i>, a fly]; whilst the latter is an opprobrious change on the former [from Hebrew <i lang="und">baal</i>, lord + <i lang="und">zebul</i>, dung]. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Been in the Sun</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (common).—A synonym for ‘drunk,’ in connection with which <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Screwed</span>. An allusion to a flushed, heated appearance. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Been Measured for a New Umbrella</b>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—Said sportively of anyone appearing in new, ill-fitting clothes, or who +has struck out a new line of action, the wisdom of which is doubtful. The joke is +an old one and refers to a man of whom it was said that nothing fitted him but his +umbrella. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Been There.</b> <span class="sc">Oh, yes, I’ve been there</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American), <i>i.e.</i>, ‘I know what I am about.’ A popular exclamation. When it is said of a man that he +has <span class="sc">been there</span>, shrewdness, pertinacity, and experience are implied. A variant may be found in the +equally slang expression, ‘he got there all the same.’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Got there</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Atlanta Constitution</i>, May 4. The Japanese say: ‘A man takes a drink; then the drink takes a drink, and +next the drink takes the man.’ Evidently the Japanese ‘have <span class="sc">been there</span>.’ +</p> +<p>2. Another and more invidious meaning, however, is attached to the phrase. Women suspected +of clandestine meetings with men are said to have <span class="sc">been there</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—<span class="sc">To do a beer</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, to take a drink of beer. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Punch’s Almanac</i>, p. 3. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Quarter-day, too, no more chance of tick, </p> +<p class="line">Fancy I shall ’ave to cut my stick. </p> +<p class="line">Got the doldrums dreadful, that is clear, </p> +<p class="line">Two <i>d.</i> left!—must <span class="sc">go and do a beer</span>! </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1889. <i>Sporting Times</i>, July 6. It was the old tale of stony, pebble-beached, block granite Wednesday, and +money on the staff there was none. ‘Pitcher,’ said Shifter, brushing the dust off +his tongue, ‘got enough for a <span class="sc">beer</span>?’ ‘Enough for a <span class="sc">beer</span>?’ repeated Pitcher. ‘Good heavens, I wish I had. If Bass’s ale was a ha’penny a barrel +I couldn’t buy enough to soak a fly-paper!’ +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To drink beer; also, to get drunk. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb165">[<a href="#pb165">165</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1780–6. <span class="sc">Wolcot</span> (‘P. Pindar’) <i>Odes R. Acad.</i>, wks., 1794, I., 105. He surely had been brandying it or <span class="sc">beering</span>, that is, in plainer English, he was drunk. [<span class="sc">d.</span>] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To think no small beer</span> [of oneself], <i>phr.</i> (common).—Small beer is weak beer; hence, figuratively equivalent to a trifle. The +expression, <span class="sc">to think no small beer of oneself</span>, indicates, therefore, a good measure of self-esteem. +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">De Quincey</span>, <i>Style</i>, wks. XI., 174. [I] should express her self-esteem by the popular phrase, that she +did not <span class="sc">think small beer of herself</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beer and Bible</b>, <i>phr.</i> (political).—An epithet applied sarcastically to a political party which first came +into prominence during the last Beaconsfield Administration. It was called into being +by a measure introduced by the moderate Liberals in 1873, with a view to placing certain +restrictions upon the sale of intoxicating drinks. The Licensed Victuallers, an extremely +powerful association, whose influence extended all over the kingdom, took alarm, and +turned to the Conservatives for help in opposing the bill. In the ranks of the latter +were numbered the chief brewers; the leaders of the association, moreover, had mostly +strong high church tendencies, while one of them was president of the Exeter Hall +organization. The Liberals, noting these facts, sarcastically nicknamed this alliance +the <span class="sc">Beer and Bible Association</span>; the <i>Morning Advertiser</i>, the organ of the Licensed Victuallers, was dubbed the <span class="sc">Beer and Bible Gazette</span>; and lastly, electioneering tactics ascribed to them the war cry of <span class="sc">beer and bible!</span> This so-called <span class="sc">beer and bible</span> interest made rapid strides: in 1870 the Conservatives were at their low water mark +among the London constituencies; but, in 1880, they had carried seats in the City, +Westminster, Marylebone, Tower Hamlets, Greenwich, and Southwark<span>.</span> A notable exception to this strange fellowship was Mr. Bass [afterwards Lord Bass], +of pale-ale fame, who held aloof from opposition to the measure in question. Anent +the nickname <span class="sc">Beer and Bible Gazette</span> given to the <i>Morning Advertiser</i>, it may be mentioned that it had already earned for itself a somewhat similar sobriquet. +For a long time this paper devoted one-half of its front page to notices of publicans +and tavern-keepers; while the other half was filled up with announcements of religious +books, and lists of preachers at the London churches and chapels. This gained for +the paper the equally singular sobriquet of the ‘Gin and Gospel Gazette.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beer and Skittles.</b> Generally, <span class="sc">Not all beer and skittles</span>, <i>phr.</i> (familiar), <i>i.e.</i>, not altogether pleasant, or <i lang="fr">couleur de rose</i>. A tap room simile, the allusion being to drinking beer and playing at skittles at +one and the same time. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>, p. 138. But football wasn’t all <span class="sc">beer and skittles</span> to the Fags. There was an institution called ‘Kicking in,’ which, while it lasted, +was much worse than ‘watching out’ at cricket, although it had the very great merit +of not continuing so long; for, even on a whole holiday, we seldom had more than two +hours of it. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Pall Mall Gaz.</i>, Aug. 13, p. 6. Prince George of Wales is ‘learning his <span class="pageNum" id="pb166">[<a href="#pb166">166</a>]</span>profession,’ and finds it is not all <span class="sc">beer and skittles</span>. That run across the Channel into Queenstown harbour showed our young naval officer +the difference between an ironclad and a torpedo boat. The latter is an uncommonly +lively craft, and in a choppy sea under a fresh breeze was surprisingly nimble. The +commander of No. 79 arrived in the harbour, having shown that at least in one respect +he has already something in common with the late admiral, Lord Nelson. The officers +of the <i>Revenge</i> had the honour to request the pleasure of the company of the Prince and his brother +officers to breakfast. The brother officers went, His Royal Highness spent the day +in his hammock, and towards evening wrote to his Royal Father a description of the +perils of the deep. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beer-Barrel</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The human body. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bacon</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beeriness</b>, <i>subs.</i>, <b>Beery</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Pertaining to a state of, or approaching to drunkenness; intoxicated; fuddled +with beer. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Screwed</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Dorrit</i>, bk. I., ch. viii., p. 56. The stranger was left to the … <span class="sc">beery</span> atmosphere, sawdust, pipe-lights, spittoons, and repose. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">D. C. Murray</span>, in <i>Belgravia</i>, July, p. 73. There was a <span class="sc">beery</span> and bloated captain, resident in the inn, who had left the army, as the rumour ran, +under disreputable auspices. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Modern Society</i>, July 13, p. 838. It is a fact that does not seem to have struck anyone, that Shakspeare’s +first appearance as a sporting tipster was in the words, ‘Lay on Macduff.’ We believe, +however, that they could at that time have got five to one against him. So sure was +the bard of his tip, that he added, in his own classical language, ‘Damn’d be he that +first cries, Hold, enough,’ which is vulgarly translated by the <span class="sc">beery</span> oracle of the kerbstone, ‘Put yer shirt on ’im, cuffs an’ all.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beer-Jerker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A tippler.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Jerker</span> and <span class="sc">Slinger</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beerocracy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The brewing and beer-selling interest. [A humorous appellation in imitation +of aristocracy. From <span class="sc">beer</span> + [<span class="sc">o</span>] <span class="sc">cracy</span>, from Greek <span class="trans" title="krateō"><span lang="grc" class="grek">κρατέω</span></span>, to rule, to hold.<span class="corr" id="xd33e26569" title="Not in source">]</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>World</i>, 19 Jan., p. 10, col. 2. The startling mixture of peerage and <span class="sc">beerocracy</span> … was absent this time. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beer-Slinger.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Slinger</span>; also <span class="sc">Jerker</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beeswax</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. Poor, soft cheese. Sometimes called <span class="sc">sweaty-toe cheese</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act ii., Sc. 3. <i>Bob</i>: Now, landlord, ’arter that ’ere drap of max, suppose we haves a <i>drain o’ heavy wet</i>, just by way of cooling our <i>chaffers</i>—mine’s as <i>dry as a chip</i>—and, I say, do you hear, let’s have a twopenny <i>burster</i>, half a quartern of <span class="sc">beesvax</span>, a ha’p’orth o’ ingens, and a dollop o’ salt along vith it, vill you? <i>Mace</i>: Bellay! a burster and <span class="sc">beesvax</span>—ingens and salt here. (<i>Calling as he fetches the porter from the side wing</i>, <span class="sc">l.</span>). Now, then, here you are, Master Grimmuzzle. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <i>Bell’s Life.</i> [From Baumann.] A burster with a slice of <span class="sc">beeswax</span>. +</p> +<p>2. A bore; one who ‘buttonholes’ another. Generally, <span class="sc">Old beeswax</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beeswaxers</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—Thick boots used for football. Probably from being smeared +with beeswax or other substitute for rendering footgear supple. Pronounced <i>Bĕswaxers</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>, p. 137. Our costume consisted of a jersey, flannel trousers, <span class="sc">beeswaxers</span> (lace-up boots), or ‘High-lows’ (low shoes), with two or three pairs of ‘Worsteders’ +(thick worsted stockings), the feet of all but one pair being cut off. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb167">[<a href="#pb167">167</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Beeswing</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A gauzy film or ‘crust,’ in port wines, the result of age. [From <span class="sc">bees</span> + <span class="sc">wing</span>; so called from its appearance when broken up in the process of decanting.] Hence +also <span class="sc">beeswinged</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Vanity Fair</i>, III., p. 26. Scott from under bushy eyebrows winked at the apparition of a <span class="sc">beeswing</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1850. <span class="sc">D. Jerrold</span>, <i>The Catspaw</i>, Act i. Whereupon, the animal spirits are held in suspense, like—like the <span class="sc">beeswing</span> in port. +</p> +<p class="cit">1873. <span class="sc">Fitzedward Hall</span>, <i>Modern English</i>, p. 32. This port is not presentable unless <span class="sc">beeswinged</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Old beeswing</span>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A nickname for anyone, but especially for one who ‘takes to his liquor +kindly’ as the saying goes. +</p> +<p class="cit">18(?). <span class="sc">Mark Lemon</span>, <i>Golden Fetters</i>, II., p. 74. Mr. Clendon did not call Mr. Barnard ‘old cock,’ ‘old fellow,’ or <span class="sc">old beeswing</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beetle-Crusher</b> or <b>Beetle Squasher</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. A large foot. The term was popularised by Leech in the pages of <i>Punch</i>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Hoof</span>. +</p> +<p>2. In a transferred and now more common sense to that originally obtaining, a large +boot or shoe. Also <span class="sc">Beetle-cases</span>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Trotter-cases</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <span class="sc">W. Bradwood</span>, <i>The O.V.H.</i>, ch. xxi. Writhing yet striving to look pleasant on the infliction which the <span class="sc">beetle-crusher</span> of a recent arrival had just inflicted on his pet corn. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1880. <span class="sc">Rhoda Broughton</span>, <i>Cometh up as a Flower</i>, II., p. 200. Yes, but what horrible boots! Whoever could have had the atwocity to +fwame such <span class="sc">beetle-crushers</span>. +</p> +<p>3. (military.)—An infantry soldier; the term is applied to them by the cavalry. A +variant is <span class="sc">Mud-crusher</span>, which <i>see</i> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beetle-Crushing</b>, <i>adj.</i> (popular).—With solid tread, such as comes from large heavy feet encased in boots +or shoes to match; <i>e<span>.</span>g.</i>, the marching of infantry. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Beetle-crusher</span>, sense 3. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <i>Anteros</i>, I., p. 188. The possibility floated before him, now, of sending all his live and +dead stock into the market,—of exchange into a sedate <span class="sc">beetle-crushing</span> corps. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beetles</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Stock Exchange).—Colorado mine shares. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <span class="sc">Atkins</span>, <i>House Scraps</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Oh supposing our creamjugs were broken, </p> +<p class="line">Or <span class="sc">beetles</span> were sowing the babies. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Beetle-Sticker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—An entomologist. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Before the Wind</b>, <i>phr.</i> (colloquial).—In prosperous circumstances; out of debt or difficulty. From the nautical +expression. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Begad!</b> <i>intj.</i> (common).—A corruption of ‘By God!’ and, as such a euphemistic oath.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1742. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>J. Andrews</i>. <span class="sc">Begad!</span> madam … ’tis the very same I met. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Vanity Fair</i>, II., iv., 39. Only one, <span class="sc">begad!</span> in the world. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beggared.</b> <span class="sc">I’ll be beggared if</span>, etc., <i>phr.</i> (common).—An emphatic form of asseveration; <i>i.e.</i>, ‘I’ll give up everything, even to being reduced to beggary, if,’ etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beggar-Maker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A publican. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb168">[<a href="#pb168">168</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Beggars</b>, <i>subs.</i> (cards’).—The small cards from the deuce to the ten are so called. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beggar’s Bolts.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Beggar’s bullets</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beggar’s Bullets</b> or <b>Bolts</b> (old).—Stones. +</p> +<p class="cit">1584. <span class="sc">Hudson</span>, <i>Judith</i>, in Sylvester’s <i>Du Bartas</i> (1608), 698. A pack of country clowns … that them to battail bownes, with <span class="sc">begger’s bolts</span> and levers. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. ‘The <span class="sc">beggar’s bullets</span> began to fly’; <i>i.e.</i>, they began to throw stones. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beggar’s Bush.</b> <span class="sc">To go home by beggar’s bush</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To go to ruin; otherwise explained as follows. +</p> +<p class="cit">1686. <i>Twelve Ingenious Characters.</i> He throws away his wealth as heartily as young heirs, or old philosophers, and is +so eager of a goal, or a mumper’s wallet, that he will not wait fortune’s leisure +to undo him, but rides post to <span class="sc">beggar’s bush</span>, and then takes more pains to spend money than day-labourers to get it. [<span class="asc">N.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Brewer</span>, <i>Dictionary of Phrase and Fable</i>, p. 78. <span class="sc">Beggar’s Bush.</span> <span class="sc">To go by beggar’s bush</span> (or) <span class="sc">go home by beggar’s bush</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, to go to ruin. <span class="sc">Beggar’s bush</span> is the name of a tree which once stood on the left hand of the London road from Huntingdon +to Caxton, so called because it was a noted rendezvous for beggars. These punning +phrases and proverbs are very common. +</p> +<p>Russell Hill, near Croydon, where the Warehousemen’s and Clerks’ Schools are, is locally +known as <span class="sc">Beggar’s Bush</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beggar’s Plush</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old)?—Corduroy.—<i>See</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1688. <i>London Gazette</i>, No. 2379, page 4. A person … in a dark grey Cloth Coat.… Breeches of <span class="sc">Beggar’s Plush</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beggar’s Velvet</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Downy particles which accumulate under furniture from the negligence of +housemaids. Otherwise called <span class="sc">sluts’-wool</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beggar the Thing!</b> <i>intj.</i> (common).—Equivalent to ‘confound’ or ‘hang the thing’—used to give additional emphasis +to a word or action. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Begin Upon</b> [<b>a Person</b>], <i>verb</i> (common).—To attack; to assault. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Begosh!</b> <b>B’gosh!</b> <i>intj.</i> (American).—An expletive, probably of negro origin; a half veiled oath; a corruption +of ‘By God!’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>The Epoch</i>, May 5. <i>Art dealer</i> (descanting on the virtues of the picture). ‘You will observe, sir, that the drawing +is free, that—’ <i>Agriculturist</i>. ‘Well, if the drawin’s free an’ you don’t tax me too much for the frame <span class="sc">b’gosh</span> I’ll take it.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Behind</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. The posterior; the rump. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1830. George IV., in <i>Saturday Review</i> (1862), 8 Feb. Go and do my bidding—tell him he lies, and kick his <span class="sc">behind</span> in my name. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>2. (Eton and Winchester Colleges.)—A back at football. At Eton called <span class="sc">short behind</span> and <span class="sc">long behind</span>, usually abbreviated to ‘short’ and ‘long.’ At Winchester, <span class="sc">second behind</span> and <span class="sc">last behind</span>. These answer to the half-back and back of Association football. At Winchester, in +the Fifteens, there is also a <span class="sc">third behind</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Behind One’s Side</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (Winchester College).—Said of a man when nearer the opponent’s goal than the player +of <span class="pageNum" id="pb169">[<a href="#pb169">169</a>]</span>his team who last touched the ball. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beilby’s Ball</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—An Old Bailey execution. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Beilby’s Ball</span>,—‘he will dance at <span class="sc">Beilby’s Ball</span>, where the sheriff pays [for] the musick: he will be hanged. Who Mr. Beilby was, +or why that ceremony was so called remains with the quadrature of the circle, the +discovery of the philosopher’s stone, and diverse other desiderata yet undiscovered.<span>’</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bejan</b>, <b>Baijan</b>, etc., <i>subs.</i> (Scotch University).—A freshman; a student of the first year at the Universities +of St Andrew’s and Aberdeen: it is now obsolete at Edinburgh. [From the French <i lang="fr">bec jaune</i>, yellow beak, in allusion to the color of the mandibles of young birds.] The term +was adopted from the University of Paris; but, signifying ‘a novice’ it has been in +more or less general use for nearly three hundred years. At Aberdeen, the second-class +students are ‘<span class="sc">semi-bejans</span>’; in the third ‘<span class="sc">tertians</span>’; while those in the highest rank are ‘<span class="sc">magistrands</span>.’ In the University of Vienna the freshman is called <i lang="la">beanus</i>, and in France ‘footing money’ is <i lang="fr">bejaunia</i>. For synonymous terms for freshmen and raw recruits, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Snooker</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1611. <span class="sc">Cotgrave.</span> <i lang="fr">Bejaune</i>, a novice … or young beginner, in a trade or art. +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <span class="sc">G. Macdonald</span>, <i>Alec Forbes</i>, ch. xxxiv. The benches were occupied by about two hundred students, most of the +freshmen or <span class="sc">bejans</span> in their red gowns. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Standard</i>, Feb. 10, p. 5, col. 2. The term <span class="sc">baijan</span>, used in one of the Scottish universities to designate a freshman, is from the French +<i lang="fr">bec jaune</i>, yellow beak—young birds having usually bills of this hue. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belch</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Beer, especially poor beer. So called because of its liability to cause +eructation. The term is probably much older than indicated by quotations. One of Shakspeare’s +characters in <i>Twelfth Night</i> is Sir Toby Belch, a reckless, roystering, jolly knight of the Elizabethan period. +For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Swipes</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1698. <span class="sc">Ward</span>, <i>London Spy</i>, pt. XV., p. 347. Those <i>Poor Sots</i> who are gussling <span class="sc">belch</span> at his own <i>Ale-house</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1705. <span class="sc">Ward</span>, <i>Hudibras Redivivus</i>, vol. I., pt. VII., p. 18. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">I sneak’d into a little house, </p> +<p class="line">Where porters do their <span class="sc">belch</span> carouse. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Belch</span> (s.), common beer or ale sold in publick houses is so called. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Belch</span>, all sorts of beer, that liquor being apt to cause eructation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1858. <span class="sc">A. Mayhew</span>, <i>Paved with Gold</i>, bk. III., ch. iii., p. 265. ‘Let’s have a pot of that fourpenny English Burgundy +of yours, and, whilst my mates are drinking the <span class="sc">belch</span>, I want to talk business with you.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belcher</b>, <i>subs.</i> (pugilistic).—A neckerchief named after Jim Belcher, a noted pugilist. The ground +is blue, with white spots. Also, attributatively, to any handkerchief of a similar +pattern. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Fogle</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <i>Examiner</i>, 21 Sept., 607, 1. The traverser … tied a <span class="sc">belcher</span> handkerchief round his neck. +</p> +<p class="cit">18(?). <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>The Ghost of Art</i>, in <i>Reprinted Pieces</i>, p. 215. I saw that the lower part of his face was tied up, in what is commonly called +a <span class="sc">belcher</span> handkerchief. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <i>Macmillan’s Magazine</i>, April, p. 506. The spotted blue and white neckerchief, still called a <span class="sc">belcher</span>, bears the name of a famous prize fighter. +</p> +<p>2. (thieves’.)—A ring. Described in quotation. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb170">[<a href="#pb170">170</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, I., p. 399. The best sort of rings for fawney dropping is the <span class="sc">belchers</span>. They are a good thick looking ring, and have the crown and V.R. stamped upon them. +</p> +<p>3. (circus and showmen.)—A drinker of beer; generally a hard drinker. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Belch</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 99. Now it is well known that travelling mummers are all rare <span class="sc">belchers</span> … I kept them in conversation … until the drink took the desired effect, and one +by one the princes and kings dropped on the grass floor, and were sound drunk and +asleep. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belial</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Oxford University).—A nickname of Balliol College. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Believe.</b> <span class="sc">I believe you</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—This phrase is frequently employed to signify general assent; ‘yes.’ Sometimes +colloquially ‘<span class="sc">I believe you my boy</span>’; once a favourite catch-phrase of a well-known actor. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Sketches by Boz</i>, p. 286. ‘Now confess: were you not a little surprised?’—‘<span class="sc">I believe you</span>,’ replied that illustrious person. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849–50. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Pendennis</i>, I., p. 140. ‘Miss Rouney, I gather, was the confidante of the other.’ ‘Confidant? +<span class="sc">I believe you</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">George Eliot</span>, <i>The Mill on the Floss</i>, p. 199. ‘Is she a cross woman?’—‘<span class="sc">I believe you.</span>’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">Dudley Costello</span>, <i>The Millionaire of Mincing Lane</i>, p. 204. ‘And she hates that fellow?’—‘Hates him? <span class="sc">I believe you.</span>’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bell</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vagrants’).—A song. Tramps’ term. Simply diminutive of <span class="sc">bellow</span>.—<i>Hotten.</i> +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (schoolboy).—<span class="sc">To bell</span> a marble is to run away with it, but the action scarcely amounts to actual theft. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To ring one’s own bell</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—A variation of ‘to blow one’s trumpet’; to sound one’s praises personally. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bell-Bastard</b>, <i>subs.</i> (provincial slang).—In the West of England the illegitimate child of a woman who +is herself illegitimate; why and wherefore is obscure, though possibly a corruption +of ‘double bastard.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bellmare</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A political leader, mostly used contemptuously. The term is a slang appropriation +from the terminology of Western life, where it seems to be used in regard to mules +much in the same way as bell-wether is employed in England in reference to sheep. +Why the grey mare, says the author of <i>A Ride with Kit Carson</i>, should be the better horse in the estimation of mules I cannot say, but such is +certainly the fact. Though very cautious animals when relying solely on their own +judgment, they would appear to have a consciousness of their own inferiority, which +induces them to entertain a great regard for the sagacity of the horse, and especially +for that of a white mare. The wily Californians, taking advantage of this amiable +weakness, employ a steady, old, white mare of known gentleness and good character, +to act as a kind of mother and guide to each drove of unruly mules. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bellows</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—The lungs. This, etymologically, is the same as ‘belly,’ both words having +passed through a most complicated history. Properly speaking a bellows is an instrument +constructed to produce a strong current of air, and the <span class="pageNum" id="pb171">[<a href="#pb171">171</a>]</span>word itself can be traced back to about A.D. 800. Its figurative and slang signification +is recorded as follows:— +</p> +<p class="cit">1615. <span class="sc">Latham</span>, <i>Falconry</i> (1633), 115. The lungs doe draw a breath.… When these <span class="sc">bellowes</span> doe decay, then health from both doth fade away, [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1730. <span class="sc">Jas. Miller</span>, <i>Humours of Oxford</i>, Act v., Sc. 2., p. 75 (2 ed.). Heark you, madam, don’t abuse my wife—slut quotha! +i’gad let me tell you, she has done a cleaner thing than you’ll ever do while your +<span class="sc">bellows</span> blow, old lady. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act ii., Sc. 3. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">A plague on those malty cove fellows, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Who’d have us in spirits relax; </p> +<p class="line">Drink, they say, and you’ll ne’er burn the <span class="sc">bellows</span>, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Half water instead of all max; </p> +<p class="line">A glass of good max, had they twigg’d it, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Would have made them, like us, lads of wax; </p> +<p class="line">For Sal swigg’d, and Dick swigg’d, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And Bob swigg’d, and Nick swigg’d, </p> +<p class="line">And I’ve swigged, and we’ve all of us swigg’d it, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And, by Jingo, there’s nothing like max. </p> +<p class="line xd33e27473">All Max! </p> +<p class="line xd33e24230">By Jingo, there’s nothing like max! </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1843. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span> (‘Sam Slick’), <i>Sam Slick in England</i>, ch. xxii. He [the servant] is so fat and lazy … walkin’ put him out o’ breath.… +How I would like to lick him … round the park … to improve his wind, and teach him +how to mend his pace. I’d repair his old <span class="sc">bellowses</span> for him, I know. +</p> +<p>Though regarded as slang in England, the word is colloquially used in many parts of +America, in the duplicated plural form—<span class="sc">bellowses</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">J. R. Lowell</span>, in <i>Biglow Papers</i>, I., p. 23. His <span class="sc">bellowses</span> is sound enough. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bellowsed</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (old).—Transported; lagged. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bellowser</span>, sense 2. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bellowser</b>, <i>subs.</i> (pugilistic).—1. A blow in the pit of the stomach, or wind—one that takes the breath +away. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—A sentence of transportation for life. +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <i>Novels and Tales</i> (from Household Words), Tauch. ed. vi., p. 187. A sigh of the kind which is called +by the lower classes a <span class="sc">bellowser</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bellows to Mend</b>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—It is said of a broken-winded horse that it has <span class="sc">bellows to mend</span>; likewise of a man whose lungs are affected, or one who from any cause is ‘out of +health.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">Cuthbert Bede</span>, <i>Verdant Green</i>, pt. II., ch. iv. To one gentleman he would pleasantly observe, as he tapped him +on the chest, ‘<span class="sc">Bellows to mend</span> for you, my buck!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bell-Rope</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The same as <span class="sc">aggerawators</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Brewer</span>, <i>Phrase and Fable</i>, s.v., ‘Love lock.’ When men indulge in a curl in front of their ears, the love-lock +is called a <span class="sc">bell-rope</span>—<i>i.e.</i>, a rope to pull the belles after them. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bells Down!</b> <i>intj.</i> (Winchester College).—<i>See</i> quotation and <span class="sc">Bells go single!</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>, p. 62. The junior in chamber had a hard time of it; … while endeavouring to get +through his multifarious duties, he had to keep a sharp ear on the performance of +the chapel bell, and to call out accordingly, ‘first peal!’ ‘second peal!’ and <span class="sc">bells down!</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bells go Single!</b> <i>intj.</i> (Winchester College).—A single bell is rung for five minutes before the hour at which +chapel commences. For College evening chapel three three’s are rung, and then follows +a ‘bell,’ one for every man in College—70. +</p> +<p class="cit">1878. <span class="sc">Adams</span>, <i>Wykehamica</i>, p. 256. At a quarter to six the peal again rang out, and the cry of <span class="sc">bells go</span> was sounded in shrill tones through every chamber of College and Commoners.… <span class="pageNum" id="pb172">[<a href="#pb172">172</a>]</span>After ten minutes the peal changed, and only a single bell continued to ring. This +was notified by the cry <span class="sc">bells go single</span>, and five minutes afterwards, by that of ‘bells down.’… Presently the head-master +… would descend from his library: or the second master … would appear at the archway +near Sixth Chamber, and the warning voice would be heard ‘Gabell’ or ‘Williams through,’ +‘Williams,’ or ‘Ridding in.’ Straightway there would be a general rush, the college-boys +darting across the quadrangle in the rear of the Præfect of Chapel; while the Commoners +hurried in, keeping up a continuous stream from their more distant quarters. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bellswagger.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Belswagger</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bell-Topped</b>, <b>Bell-Knobbed</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (harlotry).—Said of a man whose <i>penis</i> is considerably thicker at the top end than at the root or middle. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bell-Topper</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A silk hat. [From <span class="sc">bell</span>, alluding to the shape, + <span class="sc">top</span>, from its position when worn, in relation to the rest of the body + <span class="sc">er</span>.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Golgotha</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <span class="sc">G. A. Sala</span>, in <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, Aug. 5, p. 5, col. 4. His very <span class="sc">bell-topper</span> hat had been garlanded with flowers. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Ache</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vulgar).—A pain in the bowels; a colic. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>New York Times</i>, Dec. 18, quoted in <i>N. and Q.</i>, 6 S., v., 65. <span class="sc">Bellyache.</span> To grumble without good cause. Employés <span class="sc">bellyache</span> at being overworked, or when they fancy themselves underfed, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Bender</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A boy’s term for weak and unsafe ice. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Bound</b>, <i>adj.</i> (vulgar).—Constipated; costive. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Bumper</b> or <b>Belly-Buster.</b> <span class="sc">To take a belly-buster</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—To ride down a hill in a sled lying on one’s stomach, an amusement confined, +it hardly needs saying, to young America. The idea of toboganning was derived from +this boyish pastime, and the oaken board has been succeeded by the fleet-winged toboggan, +made of seasoned maple with handsomely upholstered seats. With the advent of improved +ice vehicles the interest in these sports has increased, and instead of being confined +to the vulgar boys who used to ride down hill <span class="sc">belly-buster</span> fashion, men and even the most fashionable women now partake of this pleasant and +invigorating pastime. Also belly-bumbo, belly-guts, or gutter, belly-flounders, belly-flumps, +and belly-plumper. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Chicago Inter-Ocean.</i> Barney has a sled, on which he hauls the fish in snowy weather. Barney had his sled +out yesterday, <span class="sc">belly-bumping</span> on a little patch of ice and snow. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Button</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—The navel. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Can</b> (political).—Explained by quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>, Mar. 28. Whatever ultimately comes of the Sunday Closing movement, it will at any +rate leave behind it a curious addition to the English language. This is the word +‘<span class="sc">belly-can</span>,’ which is (according to the opponents of Sunday Closing) the plebeian counterpart +of the more genteel ‘small cask’—both things being, of course, contrivances for getting +round the legal prohibition of Sunday drinking. Lexicographers may perhaps be glad +to have the definitions of the two phrases as given yesterday afternoon by Mr. Cavendish +Bentinck:—The ‘<span class="sc">belly-can</span>’ was a tin vessel not unlike a saddle in shape, which men and women, generally the +latter—let hon. members note that—got filled with beer <span class="pageNum" id="pb173">[<a href="#pb173">173</a>]</span>and secreted about their clothes, an averaged-sized can holding about four quarts. +A more aristocratic method of private Sunday drinking was by means of the ‘small cask.’ +The small cask industry was said to be an exceedingly prosperous one in certain districts. +Grocers advertised for casks as a speciality, and one grocer advertised on a Saturday +fifty and sixty and sometimes even 100 empty casks. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Cheat</b> or <b>Belly-Chete</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—An apron; also food. [From <span class="sc">belly</span> + slang <span class="sc">cheat</span>, a thing; from Anglo-Saxon <i>ceat</i>, a thing.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1609. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Lanthorne and Candlelight</i>, wks. (1885) III., 196. A <span class="sc">belly-chete</span>, an apron. +</p> +<p class="cit">1622. <span class="sc">Fletcher</span>, <i>Beggar’s Bush</i>, II., i. Each man shall eat his own stol’n eggs and shall possess what he can purchase—back +or <span class="sc">belly-cheats</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> <span class="sc">Belly-cheat</span>, an apron. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Cheer</b> or <b>Belly-Chere</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Food. This term is of considerable antiquity, as also is <span class="sc">belly-cheering</span> for eating and drinking. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Grub</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1559. <i>Eliotes Dictionarie.</i> Abdomini indulgere, to geve hym selfe to <span class="sc">bealy-chere</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1612. <span class="sc">Rowlands</span>, <i>Knaves of Spades</i>, etc. Gluttonie mounted on a greedie beare, <span class="sc">To belly-cheere</span> and banquets lends his care. +</p> +<p class="cit">1699. <span class="sc">Coles</span>, <i>English Dictionary</i>. <span class="sc">Belly-cheer</span>, Cibaria. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-chere.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Belly-cheer</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Chete.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Belly-cheat</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Full</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A sound drubbing; a thrashing. +</p> +<p class="cit">1599. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Lenten Stuffe</i>, in wks. V., 265. The churlish frampild waues gaue him his <span class="sc">belly-full</span> of fish broath. +</p> +<p class="cit">1605. <span class="sc">Chapman</span>, <i>All Fooles</i>, Act ii., p. 58 (<i>Plays</i>, 1874). Walk not too boldly; if the serjeants meet you, you may have swaggering work +your <span class="sc">belly-full</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1666. <span class="sc">Pepys</span>, <i>Diary</i>, Oct. 28. He says that in the July fight, both the Prince and Holmes had their <span class="sc">belly-fulls</span>, and were fain to go aside. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span>, <i>Clockmaker</i>, 3 S., ch. xvi. Bunker’s Hill, where, Mr. Slick observed, ‘the British first got +a taste of what they afterwards got, a <span class="sc">belly-full</span>.’ +</p> +<p>2. A woman with child was also formerly said to have her <span class="sc">belly-full</span>.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Belly-up</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Furniture</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Food; something wherewith to furnish the belly. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Belly-timber</span>, <span class="sc">Back-timber</span>, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1653. <span class="sc">Urquhart</span>, <i>Rabelais</i>, bk. I., ch. v. (Bohn’s), i., 110. Then did they fall upon the victuals, and some +<span class="sc">belly-furniture</span> to be snatched at in the very same place. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-go-Firster</b>, <i>subs.</i> (pugilistic).—An initial blow, generally given, say some authorities, in the stomach—whence +its classic name! +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Gut</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A lazy, greedy fellow. +</p> +<p class="cit">1540. <span class="sc">Morysine</span>, transl., <i>Vives’ Introd. Wisd.</i>, viij. Such as be skoffers, swell feastes … <span class="sc">bely guts</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1733. <span class="sc">Bailey</span>, <i>Erasmus</i>, p. 346. Since then thou would’st not have a <span class="sc">belly-gut</span> for thy servant, but rather one brisk and agile, why then dost thou provide for thyself +a minister fat and unwieldy? +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Guts</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American schoolboys’).—1. In Pennsylvania, molasses candy. +</p> +<p>2. (American.)—Equivalent to <span class="sc">belly-bumper</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Hedges</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Shrewsbury School).—In school steeple-chases, obstructions of such a height that +they can easily be cleared—<i>i.e.</i>, about ‘belly-high.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb174">[<a href="#pb174">174</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Piece</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. An apron. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Belly-cheat</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1689. <span class="sc">Shadwell</span>, <i>Bury Fair</i>. If thou shoulds cry, it would make streaks down thy face; as the tears of the tankard +do upon my fat host’s <span class="sc">belly-pieces</span>. +</p> +<p>2. A mistress; a concubine; a whore. +</p> +<p class="cit">1630. <span class="sc">Randolph</span>, <i>Jealous Lovers</i>. <i>Asot</i>: Come, blush not, bashfull <span class="sc">belly-piece</span>—I will meet thee: I ever keep my word with a fair lady. I will requite that jewell +with a richer. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly Plea</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A plea of pregnancy, generally adduced by female felons capitally convicted. +This they took care to provide for, previous to trial; every gaol had, as the <i>Beggars’ Opera</i> informs us, one or more child-getters, who qualified the ladies for that expedient. +The <i>plea</i> still holds good, execution of female convicts in ‘an interesting condition’ being +deferred until after accouchement. In practice, it really means a commutation of the +death penalty for life imprisonment. All chances, however, of becoming <i>enceinte</i> after arrest are sedulously guarded against by the rules of modern prison life. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Plumper</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Belly-bumper</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Timber</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Food; provisions of all kinds. [From <span class="sc">belly</span> + <span class="sc">timber</span>.] This, like many other words of its class (<i>e.g.</i>, <span class="sc">back-timber</span>, <i>q.v.</i>), was once in serious use, but for a long period it has been going down hill, and +it is now a thorough-going vulgarism, only surviving dialectically, and as slang. +Massinger and the older dramatists employed it seriously; toward the end of the seventeenth +century it began to be used in a ludicrous and vulgar sense. Butler employs it thus, +and in Charles Cotton’s <i>Scarronides</i> (1678), the hero we are told— +</p> +<div class="lgouter"> +<p class="line">Lay thinking now his guts grew limber, </p> +<p class="line">How they might get more <span class="sc">belly-timber</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">For synonyms generally, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Grub</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1614. <i>Terence</i> in English, <i>Annona cara est</i>. Corne is at a high price; victuals are deare; <span class="sc">belly-timber</span> is hard to come by. +</p> +<p class="cit">1637. <span class="sc">Massinger</span>, <i>Guardian</i>, III., iii. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Ador.</i> Haste you unto my villa, and take all provisions along with you.… +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Car.</i> Trust me for <span class="sc">belly-timber</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1663–78. <span class="sc">S. Butler</span>, <i>Hudibras</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line xd33e5086">Through deserts vast, </p> +<p class="line">And regions desolate they pass’d, </p> +<p class="line">Where <span class="sc">belly-timber</span>, above ground </p> +<p class="line">Or under, was not to be found. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1719. <i>Poor Robin’s Almanack</i>, Feb. On the 10th day of this month, being Shrove-Tuesday, is like to be a great +innundation of <span class="sc">belly-timber</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Belly-timber</span> (<span class="sc">s.</span>), all sorts of food. +</p> +<p class="cit">1820. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Monastery</i>, ch. xv. ‘Yonder comes the monkish retinue … I hope a’gad, they have not forgotten +my trunk-mails of apparel amid the ample provision they have made for their own <span class="sc">belly-timber</span><span>.</span>’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Up</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (old).—Applied to women when <i>enceinte</i>. From the protrusion of the abdomen which takes place under such circumstances.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Belly-full</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belly-Vengeance</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Sour beer, apt to cause gastralgia. The French call this <i>pissin de cheval</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘horse urine.’ For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Swipes</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb175">[<a href="#pb175">175</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Belongings</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial).—1. Qualities; endowments; faculties. +</p> +<p>2. Relations; one’s kindred. +</p> +<p>3. One’s effects; or possessions. In sense 1 <span class="sc">belongings</span> has long been an accepted word; senses 2 and 3 are given by Annandale as ‘colloquial +and vulgar.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Bleak House</i>. I have been trouble enough to my <span class="sc">belongings</span> in my day. +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <i>Saturday Review</i>, 24 Feb., p. 244, col. 2. The rich uncle whose mission is to bring prosperity to +his <span class="sc">belongings</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>4. (American.)—Used by the prudishly inclined for trousers.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bags</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Below the Belt</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (popular).—To strike a man <span class="sc">below the belt</span> is to hit him unfairly, a term derived from the pugilistic arena. Hence, underhand +dealing, and the taking of mean advantage generally. It is akin with ‘To stab a man +in the back.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Belswagger</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A lewd man; a whoremaster; a pimp. [Thought to be a contracted form of +<span class="sc">belly</span> + <span class="sc">swagger</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, a man given up to bodily pleasure. Ash has both forms.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1775. <span class="sc">Ash</span>, <i>Dictionary</i>. <span class="sc">Belswagger</span>, a whoremaster. +</p> +<p>2. A bully; a hectoring fellow. This is the older, but least important usage. +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">Greene</span>, <i>Defence of Coney-Catching</i>. … the <span class="sc">belswaggers</span> of the country. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bellswagger</span>, a noisy, bullying fellow. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beltinker</b>, <i>subs.</i> and <i>verb</i> (common).—A beating; a drubbing. To thrash; to beat soundly.—For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Tan</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bemused</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (common).—Fuddled; as in the stupid stage of drunkenness. [From <span class="sc">be</span> + <span class="sc">muse</span> + <span class="sc">ed</span>, originally to be sunk in reverie, or contemplation.] The expression as generally +used now is <span class="sc">bemused with beer</span>. This phrase, originally used by Pope, was given a new impetus by G. A. Sala (in +<i>Gaslight and Daylight</i>). In America, especially, it caught the popular fancy and ran a brief but riotous +course throughout the Union to signify one who addicted himself to ‘soaking’ with +beer. The transatlantic usage naturally reacted upon the Mother Country, and from +being occasionally employed it became much more popular, and was heard on all sides—a +striking instance of ‘fashion in words.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1735. <span class="sc">Pope</span>, <i>Prol. Sat.</i>, 15. A parson much <span class="sc">be-mus’d</span> in beer. +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>General Bounce</i>, ch. viii. A fat little man, primed with port, but who, when not thus <span class="sc">bemused</span>, is an influential member of his committee. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">R. L. Stevenson</span>, <i>The Treasure of Franchard</i>, ch. iv., in <i>Longman’s Mag.</i>, April, p. 694. So while the Doctor made himself drunk with words, the adopted stable-boy +<span class="sc">bemused</span> himself with silence. +</p> +<p>For synonyms generally, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Screwed</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ben</b>, <i>subs.</i> (theatrical).—1. A benefit; a performance of which the receipts, after paying expenses, +are devoted to one person’s special use or benefit. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Dead Sea Fruit</i>, I., 190. ‘I have played clown <span class="pageNum" id="pb176">[<a href="#pb176">176</a>]</span>for my <span class="sc">ben</span>,’ murmured the great Dr. Mortemas. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">G. R. Sims</span>, <i>Ballads of Babylon</i> (<i>Forgotten</i>). You saw me as Hamlet, Charley, the night that I had my <span class="sc">ben</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (old cant.)—A fool.—<i>Grose.</i>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Benish</span>. +</p> +<p>3. (common.)—A shortened form of <span class="sc">Benjamin</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), a coat; also of <span class="sc">benjy</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), a waistcoat. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 252. Being at Hailsham, a small market town in Sussex, about the year 1846, I +attended the club feast, which was held on the common. At that time we used to buy +men’s waistcoats of Michael Riley, of Manchester, at £5 per gross, and sell them at +1s. 6d., 1s. 3d., and the lowest price at a shilling each. I had a bale containing +twelve dozen arrive that morning, they were red ones; and in offering these bens, +the plan was to put them on to show how well they fitted. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To stand ben</span> (popular).—To stand treat. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Benar.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bene</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Benbouse</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—Good beer. [From the Latin <i lang="la">bene</i> = good + <span class="sc">bouse</span> or <span class="sc">booze</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i> (1869), p. 85. The vpright cofe canteth to the Roge: ‘I saye by the Salomon I will +lage it of with a gage of <span class="sc">benebouse</span>; then cut to my nose watch.’ [‘I sweare by the masse, I wull washe it of with a quart +of good drynke; then saye to me what thou wylt.’] +</p> +<p class="cit">1622. <span class="sc">John Fletcher</span>, <i>Beggar’s Bush</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">I crown thy nab with a gag of <span class="sc">benbouse</span>, </p> +<p class="line">And stall thee by the salmon into clowes, </p> +<p class="line">To maund on the pad and strike all the cheats, </p> +<p class="line">To mill from the Ruffmans, and commission and slates. </p> +<p class="line">Twang dell’s, i’ the stiromel, and let the quire cuffin </p> +<p class="line">And Herman Beck strine and trine to the Ruffin! </p> +</div> +<p class="first"><i>i.e.</i>, +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">I poure on thy pate a pot of good ale, </p> +<p class="line">And by the Rogue’s oath, a Rogue the install, </p> +<p class="line">To beg on the way and rob all thou meets, </p> +<p class="line">To steal from the hedge both the shirt and the sheets, </p> +<p class="line">And lie with thy wench in the straw till she twang, </p> +<p class="line">Let the Constable, Justice, and Devil go hang! </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bencher</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A frequenter of taverns; one who hulks about public houses; perhaps with an +allusion to the Benchers of the Inns of Court. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ben Cull</b> or <b>Cove</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A friend; a ‘pall’; a companion. [From old cant <span class="sc">bene</span> or <span class="sc">ben</span>, good + <span class="sc">cull</span>, a man.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cove</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bend</b>, <i>verb</i> (Scotch).—To tipple; to drink hard. Jamieson, the first lexicographer to draw attention +to the word in its slang sense, illustrates his example by quotations from Alan Ramsay. +Murray suggests that it is derived from that sense of <span class="sc">to bend</span>, signifying ‘to pull,’ ‘to strain,’ ‘to apply oneself.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1758. <span class="sc">A. Ramsay</span>, <i>Poems</i> (1800), I., 215. Brawtippony … which we with greed <span class="sc">bended</span>, as fast as she could brew. <i>Ibid</i>, ii., 73. <span class="sc">To bend</span> wi’ ye, and spend wi’ ye, an evening, and gaffaw. [1860. <span class="sc">Ramsay</span>, <i>Remin.</i>, Ser. 1 (ed. 7), 47. <span class="sc">Bend</span> weel to the Madeira at dinner, for here ye’ll get little o’t after.] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Above one’s bend</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—Above one’s ability, power or capacity; or out of one’s reach. Probably +a corruption of ‘above one’s bent.’ Shakspeare puts the expression in the mouth of +Hamlet, ‘to the top of my bent’ (iii., 2). In the Southern States [U.S.A.], its place +is generally taken by <span class="sc">above my huckleberry</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). An English equivalent is ‘above one’s hook.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb177">[<a href="#pb177">177</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">J. F. Cooper</span>, <i>The Oak Openings</i>. It would be <span class="sc">above my bend</span> to attempt telling you all we saw among the red skins. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Grecian bend</span> (popular).—A craze amongst women which had a vogue from about 1872 to 1880. It consisted +in walking with the body bent forward. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <i>Chambers’ Journal</i>, No. 629. Your own advocacy for the <span class="sc">Grecian bend</span> and the Alexandra limp—both positive and practical imitations of physical affliction. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">On the bend</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—In an underhand, oblique, or crooked way—not ‘on the square.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <span class="sc">J. C. Jeaffreson</span>, <i>Live It Down</i>, II., 152. I never have paid anything yet on the square, and I never will. When I +die, I’ll order my executor to buy my coffin off the square. He shall get it <span class="sc">on the bend</span> somehow or other. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bender</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. A sixpence. Thought to be an allusion to the ease with which these +coins were liable to be bent in use. At one time the currency was not of such good +quality as now. +</p> +<p class="cit">1789. <span class="sc">Geo. Parker</span>, <i>Life’s Painter</i>, p. 178. Sixpence. A <span class="sc">bender</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Pickwick</i>, ch. xlii., p. 367. ‘Will you take three bob?’ ‘And a <span class="sc">bender</span>,’ suggested the clerical gentleman.… ‘What do you say, now? We’ll pay you out for +three-and-sixpence a week. Come!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>M. or N.</i>, p. 66. A ragged boy established, at the crossing, who had indeed rendered himself +conspicuous by his endeavours to ferry Puckers over dry-shod, was accosted by a shabby-genteel +and remarkably good-looking man, in the following vernacular—‘On this minnit, off +at six, Buster; two bob an’ a <span class="sc">bender</span>, and a three of eye-water, in?’ ‘Done for another joey,’ replied Buster, with the +premature acuteness of youth foraging for itself in the streets of London. +</p> +<p>Among synonymous terms for this coin may be mentioned cripple; bandy; crookback; downer; +fyebuck; lord of the manor; tanner; sprat; kick; half a borde; tizzy. +</p> +<p>2. (Scotch.)—A hard and persistent drinker; a tippler. This should be compared with +<span class="sc">bend</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1728. <span class="sc">Ramsay</span>, <i>Poems</i> (1848), III., 162. Now lend your lugs, ye <span class="sc">benders</span> fine, wha ken the benefit of wine. +</p> +<p class="cit">1810. <span class="sc">Tannahill</span>, <i>Poems</i> (1846), 53. Or <span class="sc">benders</span>, blest your wizzens weetin’. +</p> +<p>3. (public schools’.)—In public school phraseology a <span class="sc">bender</span> is a stroke of the cane administered by the master while the culprit bends down his +back. +</p> +<p>4. (common.)—The arm. In connection with this <i>see</i> the following, and for synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Chalk Farm</span>. +</p> +<p>5. (American.)—A drinking bout or spree, in the course of which, to use another slang +expression, ‘the town is painted red,’ and the participants decidedly unbent. This +is possibly derived from any one of the three following sources:—(1) from the Scotch +usage; (2) from the facetious name given to the arm, which becomes a <span class="sc">bender</span> from being so frequently bent or ‘crooked’ to lift the glass to the mouth; (3) from +the Dutch <i lang="nl">bende</i>, an assembly, party, or band. +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <i>Putnam’s Monthly</i>, Aug. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">I met her at the Chinese room; </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">She wore a wreath of roses, </p> +<p class="line">She walked in beauty like the night, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Her breath was like sweet posies. </p> +<p class="line">I led her through the festal hall, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Her glance was soft and tender; </p> +<p class="line">She whispered gently in my ear, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">‘Say, Mose, ain’t this a <span class="sc">bender</span>?<span>’</span> </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1864. <i>Richmond Dispatch</i>, 3 Jan. ‘Most of the owners of these names had <span class="pageNum" id="pb178">[<a href="#pb178">178</a>]</span>been tempted by the festivities of the day to go on a regular <span class="sc">bender</span>, and had to pay the penalty for their New Year’s frolic by appearing this morning +in the police-court.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Detroit Free Press</i>, 4 Aug. He was a character noted for going on frequent <span class="sc">benders</span> until he came very near having the jimjams and then sobering up. +</p> +<p>6. (American.)—A euphemism employed by the squeamishly inclined for the leg. A similar +piece of prudishness is displayed in an analogous use of ‘limb.’ With a notorious +mock-modesty American women decline to call a leg a leg; they call it a <i>limb</i> instead. This tendency is the more remarkable when the great freedom extended to +American girls and women is borne in mind; unless, indeed, it arises from guilty knowledge. +White, who, perhaps, was rather given to excessive incisiveness of speech, remarked +that perhaps such persons think that it is indelicate for women to have legs, and +that therefore they are concealed by garments, and should be concealed in speech. +Professor Geikie, during one of his Canadian tours, also found out that both sexes +had <i>limbs</i> of some sort; the difficulty was to discover whether they were used to stand on or +to hold by. Sensible people everywhere, however, have little part in such prudery. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Longfellow</span>, <i>Kavanagh</i>. Young ladies are not allowed to cross their <span class="sc">benders</span> in school. +</p> +<p>7. (schoolboys’.)—The bow-shaped segment of a paper kite. +</p> +<p class="cit">1873. <span class="sc">Dr. Blackley</span>, <i>Hay Fever</i>, p. 145. The first kite was six feet in length by three feet in width, and was made +of the usual form, namely, with a central shaft or ‘standard,’ and a semi-circular +top or <span class="sc">bender</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Over the bender</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—A variant of ‘over the left shoulder’; the connection between <span class="sc">bender</span>, a slang term for the arm, and the shoulder is sufficiently apparent. There are many +analogous expressions, which <i>see</i> under <span class="sc">Over the left</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Intj.</i>—An exclamation of incredulity; also used as a kind of saving clause to a promise +which the speaker does not intend to carry into effect. Probably an abbreviated form +of <span class="sc">over the bender</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bendigo</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A rough fur cap named after a notorious pugilist. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bend Over</b>, <i>intj.</i> (Winchester College).—A direction to put oneself into position to receive a ‘spanking.’ +This is done by bending over so that the tips of the fingers extend towards the toes, +thus presenting a surface as tight as a drum on the part to be castigated. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bene</b>, <b>Ben</b>, <i>adj.</i> (old cant).—Good. This belongs to the most ancient English cant, and is probably +a corruption from the Latin. <span class="sc">Benar</span> and <span class="sc">benat</span> appear to have been used as comparatives of <span class="sc">bene</span>.—(<i>See</i> quots.) +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i> (1869), p, 86. What, stowe your <span class="sc">bene</span>, cofe, and sut <span class="sc">benat</span> whydds, and byng we to rome vyle to nyp a bong. [<i>i.e.</i> What, hold your peace good fellow and speak better words, and let us go to London +to cut, or steal a purse.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1610. <span class="sc">Rowlands</span>, <i>Martin Mark-all</i>, p. 37 (H. Club’s Repr., 1874). <span class="sc">Ben</span>, good. +</p> +<p class="cit">1611. <span class="sc">Thomas Middleton and Thomas Dekker</span>, <i>The Roaring Girl or Moll Cut Purse</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">A gage of <span class="sc">ben</span> Rom-bouse, </p> +<p class="line">In a bousing ken of Rom-vile </p> +<p class="line"><span class="pageNum" id="pb179">[<a href="#pb179">179</a>]</span> </p> +<p class="line">Is <span class="sc">benar</span> than a Caster, Peck, pennam, lay </p> +<p class="line">Or popler. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit center"><i>i.e.</i>, +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">A quart pot of good wine </p> +<p class="line">In a drinking house of London </p> +<p class="line">Is better than a cloak, meat, bread, butter milk (?) or porridge. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1714. <i>Memoirs of John Hall</i> (4 ed.), p. 11, list of cant words in. <span class="sc">Bien</span>, good. +</p> +<p class="cit">1858. <span class="sc">A. Mayhew</span>, <i>Paved with Gold</i>, bk. III., ch. iii., p. 265. ‘I’ve brought a couple of <span class="sc">bene</span> coves, with lots of the Queen’s pictures in their sacks’ [pockets]. +</p> +<p><i>Subs.</i> (old cant).—‘Stowe your <span class="sc">bene</span>,’ <i>i.e.</i>, ‘hold your tongue.’ <i>See</i> quotation above from Harman’s <i>Caveat</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bene-Bouze.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Benbouse</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bene-Cove.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Ben-cull</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bene Darkmans!</b> <i>intj.</i> (old cant).—Good night! French thieves say <i lang="fr">sorgabon</i>, an inversion of <i lang="fr">bonne sorgue</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Benedick</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—1. A sportive name for a newly-married man; especially one who has long +been a bachelor. Apparently, however, there is some confusion in the usage (<i>see</i> sense 2). The name was derived from Shakspeare’s character in <i>Much Ado About Nothing</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1599. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Much Ado About Nothing</i>, v., 4, 100. <i>Don Pedro.</i> How dost thou, <span class="sc">benedick</span>, the married man? +</p> +<p class="cit">1805. <span class="sc">Rev. J. Marriott</span>, in C. K. Sharpe’s <i>Correspondence</i> (1888), I., 239. From what I have seen of his lordship, both as a bachelor and as +a <span class="sc">benedick</span>. +</p> +<p>2. A bachelor. <i>Cf.</i>, foregoing. +</p> +<p class="cit">1843. <i>Life in the West.</i> He is no longer a <span class="sc">benedic</span>, but a quiet married man. +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">C. Bronté</span>, <i>Professor</i>, ch. xxiv. ‘Are you married, Mr. Hunsden?’ asked Frances, suddenly. +</p> +<p class="cit">‘No. I should have thought you might have guessed I was a <span class="sc">benedick</span> by my look.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bene Feakers</b>, <i>subs.</i> (cant).—Counterfeiters of bills.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bene Feakers of Gybes</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (cant).—Counterfeiters of passes.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bene</b> or <b>Bien Mort</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—A fine woman; a pretty girl; a hostess. [From <span class="sc">bene</span>, old cant for ‘good,’ + <span class="sc">mort</span>, a canting term for a woman.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i>, p. 85 (ed. 1869). A <span class="sc">bene mort</span> hereby at the sign of the prauncer. [<i>i.e.</i>, The Horse.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">Richard Head</span>, <i>The English Rogue</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Bing out, <span class="sc">bien morts</span>, and ture and ture, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Bing out, <span class="sc">bien morts</span>, and toure; </p> +<p class="line">For all your duds are bing’d awast, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">The bien cove hath the loure. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit center"><i>i.e.</i>, +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Go forth, brave girls: look out, look out, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Look out, I say, good maids, </p> +<p class="line">For all your clothes are stole, I doubt, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And shar’d among the blades. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. xvii. ‘Tour out,’ said the one ruffian to the other; ‘tour the <span class="sc">bien mort</span> twiring at the gentry cove.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1823. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Peveril of the Peak</i>, ch. xxxvi. Why the <span class="sc">bien morts</span> will think you a chimney-sweeper on May-day. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>New York Slang Dictionary.</i> [See first stanza of canting song on page 80 ante.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beneship.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Benship</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i> (1869), p. 86. The vpright man canteth to the Roge. <i>Man!</i> ‘That is <span class="sc">beneshyp</span> to our watche.’ [That is very good for vs.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beneshiply</b>, <i>adv.</i> (old cant).—Worshipfully.—<i>Grose.</i> +<span class="pageNum" id="pb180">[<a href="#pb180">180</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Ben-Flake</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A steak. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bengal Tigers</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—The Seventeenth Foot; so nicknamed from its badge of a royal tiger granted +for services in India from 1804–1823. Also called ‘The Lily-Whites’ from its facings. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <i>Chambers’ Journal</i>, p. 801. The 17th … the <span class="sc">Bengal Tigers</span>, from their badge—a tiger. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bengi</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—An onion. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bengy.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Benjy</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Benish</b>, <i>adj.</i> (old cant.)—Foolish.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Ben</span>, sense 2. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Benjamin</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—1. A small ruler. +</p> +<p>2. (thieves’.)—A coat. It is said to have been derived from a well-known London advertising +tailor of the same name. Formerly this garment was called a <span class="sc">Joseph</span>, but for synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Capella</span>. An <span class="sc">upper Benjamin</span> = a great coat. +</p> +<p class="cit">1815. <span class="sc">T. Peacock</span>, <i>Nightmare Abbey</i>, p. 159. His heart is seen to beat through his <span class="sc">upper Benjamin</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">M. Scott</span>, <i>Tom Cringle’s Log</i>, ch. ii. <span class="sc">Benjamins</span>, and great-coats, and cloaks of all sorts and sizes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">G. Borrow</span>, <i>Lavengro</i>, ch. lix., p. 181 (1888). The coachman … with narrow-rimmed hat and fashionable <span class="sc">Benjamin</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>, 7 March, p. 3, col. 2. [Quoting East-end slang.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Ben Joltram</b>, <i>subs.</i> (provincial).—Brown bread and skimmed milk; a Norfolk term for a ploughboy’s breakfast.—<i>Hotten.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Benjy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—1. A low crowned straw hat having a very broad brim. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">W. Clark Russell</span>, <i>Sailors’ Language</i>, p. 14. <span class="sc">Benjie</span>, the name of a straw hat worn by sailors. +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A waistcoat. Also <span class="sc">ben</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Fan</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">D. Haggart</span>, <i>Life</i>, Glossary, p. 171. <span class="sc">Benjy</span>, a vest. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bens</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A workman’s slang term for his tools. In England called <span class="sc">alls</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Benship</b> or <b>Beenship</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—Worship; goodness. This word, evidently from <span class="sc">beneship</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), is given by Bailey in his Dictionary [1728], and by Coles in 1724. +</p> +<p><i>Adv.</i> (old cant).—Very good. +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i> (1814), p. 65. <span class="sc">Benship</span>, very good. +</p> +<p class="cit">1610. <span class="sc">Rowlands</span>, <i>Martin Mark-all</i>, p. 37 (H. Club’s Repr.). <span class="sc">Benship</span>, very good. +</p> +<p class="cit">1665. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>English Rogue</i>, pt. I., ch. v., p. 47 (1874). <span class="sc">Benshiply</span>, very well. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beong</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’ and costermongers’).—A shilling. [From Italian <i lang="it">bianco</i>, white; also the name of a silver coin.] For full list of synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Deaner</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beray</b>, <i>verb</i> (old cant).—To defile; to befoul; to abuse. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Berkeleys</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A woman’s breasts. [It may be noted that in the gypsy, <i>berk</i>, or <i>burk</i> = breast; plural, <i>berkia</i>.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Dairies</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bermudas</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A district in London, similar to <span class="sc">Alsatia</span> in Whitefriars (<i>q.v.</i>), and the Mint in Southwark, privileged against arrests. The <span class="sc">Bermudas</span> are thought to have been certain <span class="pageNum" id="pb181">[<a href="#pb181">181</a>]</span>narrow and obscure alleys and passages north of the Strand, near Covent Garden, and +contiguous to Drury Lane; see, however, the second quotation where the Mint would +seem to be indicated. +</p> +<p class="cit">1616. <span class="sc">Jonson</span>, <i>Devil’s an Ass</i>, II., 1. <i>Meercraft.</i> Engine, when did you see my cousin Everhill? keeps he still your quarter in the <span class="sc">Bermudas</span>? <i>Eng.</i> Yes, sir, he was writing this morning very hard. +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Jack Sheppard</i>, p. 12. In short, every contrivance that ingenuity could devise was resorted to by +this horde of reprobates to secure themselves from danger or molestation. Whitefriars +had lost its privileges; Salisbury Court and the Savoy no longer offered places of +refuge to the debtor; and it was, therefore, doubly requisite that the <span class="sc">Island</span> of the <span class="sc">Bermuda</span> (as the Mint was termed by its occupants) should uphold its rights, as long as it +was able to do so. +</p> +<p>As regards the derivation of the name, Nares suggests it in the actual practice, which +obtained of debtors fleeing to the Bermuda Islands, when first discovered, to elude +their creditors. This fact is alluded to in the following. <i>Cf.</i>, second quotation already given. +</p> +<p class="cit">1616. <span class="sc">Jonson</span>, <i>Devil’s an Ass</i>, III., 3. There’s an old debt of forty, I ga’ my word. For one is run away to the +<span class="sc">Bermudas</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Berthas</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Stock Exchange).—The nickname in the ‘House’ and among brokers for the ordinary +stock of the London, Brighton and South Coast Railway Company. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>The Rialto</i>, Mar. 23. The week opened very badly on the Stock Exchange, and two or three days +of utter stagnation followed, but yesterday afternoon a revival took place, which +was quite dramatic in its suddenness and vigour. Between two o’clock and the closing +of the doors at four o’clock, advances were made ranging from 2½ in <span class="sc">Berthas</span> to an average of 1 in Americans. Tintos climbed to 12¼, and even Kaffirs raised their +sickly heads. All the little bulls went home happier than they have been for three +weeks. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Berwicks</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Stock Exchange).—The ordinary stock of the North Eastern Railway. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bespeak-Night</b>, <i>subs.</i> (theatrical).—A benefit.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Ben</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bess.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Betty</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bess-o’-Bedlam</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A lunatic vagrant. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Kenilworth</i>, ch. xxvi. ‘Why, what <span class="sc">Bess of Bedlam</span> is this, would ask to see my lord on such a day as the present?’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Best.</b> <span class="sc">To best one</span>, <i>verb</i> (common).—1. To obtain an advantage; to secure a superior position in a contest or +bargain. The meaning of <span class="sc">to best</span>, therefore, is really ‘to worst.’ In this sense, not necessarily to cheat.—<i>See</i> sense 2. +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <span class="sc">Trafford</span>, <i>World in Ch.</i>, II., 77. As I am a staunch Churchman I cannot stand quiet and see the Dissenters +<span class="sc">best</span> the Establishment. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 69. Bob was a good salesman, but of bad temper, who if he could not get rid of +any unruly fellow by his chaffing him, would invariably turn to Perdue and say, ‘Look +at this man; I shan’t bother with him, why don’t you get him away? He’s interrupting +me and the business. I can’t jolly him down, so you must settle and do away with him, +or I must “dry up,” for the fellow’s <span class="sc">bested</span> me.’ +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1879. <span class="sc">Hawley Smart</span>, <i>From Post to Finish</i>, p. 92. His intimates were wont to say there was no trusting Cuddie Elliston, while, +as for Sam Pearson, it was a current saying that ‘No one had ever <span class="sc">bested</span> him.’ Still, Yorkshire has a certain respect for this faculty; and though Pearson +was regarded as a man who carried it rather far, and would have skinned his own brother +upon occasion, yet public opinion did not get <span class="pageNum" id="pb182">[<a href="#pb182">182</a>]</span>much further regarding him than that ‘Lawyer Pearson knew his away about; and you’d +to get up main early in the morning to get a point the <span class="sc">best</span> of him.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Graphic</i>, Feb. 24, p. 191, col. 1. So there are people who will not scruple <span class="sc">to best</span> a railway company, who would be loth to wrong a private person. +</p> +<p>2. Sometimes, however, passing the ill-defined border line between sharp practice +and down-right roguery, <span class="sc">to best</span> is an equivalent of to cheat; to swindle. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 234. His game was <span class="sc">besting</span> everybody, whether it was for pounds, shillings, or pence. At one time he cheated +a poor farming man out of his milch cow in exchange for another. The man was in liquor +at the time, and when he came to his senses he went right away to another part of +the country, and his poor wife took it so to heart that she died shortly afterwards. +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">Horsley</span>, in <i>Macmillan’s Magazine</i>, Oct. When I went to the fence he <span class="sc">bested</span> (cheated) me because I was drunk, and only gave me £8 10s. for the lot. So the next +day I went to him and asked him if he was not going to grease my duke (put money into +my hand). So he said, ‘No.’ Then he said, ‘I will give you another half-a-quid’; and +said, ‘Do anybody, but mind they don’t do you.’ So I thought to myself, ‘All right, +my lad; you will find me as good as my master,’ and left him. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <span class="sc">May</span>, in <i>Fortnightly Review</i>, Oct., p. 578. The quack broker who piles up money by <span class="sc">besting</span> his clients. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>To give one best</b> (thieves’).—To leave one; to sever companionship. +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">Horsley</span>, in <i>Macmillan’s Mag.</i>, Oct. While using one of those places [concerts], I first met a sparring bloke (pugilist), +who taught me how to spar, and showed me the way to put my dukes up. But after a time +I <span class="sc">gave him best</span> (left him) because he used to want to bite my ear (borrow) too often. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bester</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A cheat; a swindler.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Best</span>, sense 2. Generally applied to a turf or gaming blackleg. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>Lon. Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, IV., 24. Those who cheat the Public … ‘Bouncers and <span class="sc">Besters</span>’ defrauding, by laying wagers, swaggering, or using threats. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Evening News</i>, 21 September, 4, 1. The complainant called her father a liar, ‘a <span class="sc">bester</span> and a crawler.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Besting the Pistol</b>, <i>phr.</i> (pedestrian).—To get away before the signal for starting is actually given. [From +<span class="sc">besting</span>, gaining an advantage, + <span class="sc">pistol</span>, the firing of which is the signal to ‘Go!’] +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Polytechnic Magazine</i>, July 7, p. 330. The third man from scratch was evidently in too great a hurry; twice +he tried to <span class="sc">best the pistol</span>, and as often the whole start had to be made afresh. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bet.</b> <span class="sc">You bet!</span> <i>intj.</i> (American).—You may depend on it; you may be sure; certainly! be assured! Originally +a Californian phrase tacked on to an assertion to give it additional emphasis. So +popular is the expression that it has been given as a name in the form of <span class="sc">Ubet</span> to a town in the Canadian Northwest. Oftentimes it is amplified into ‘you bet your +boots,’ ‘life,’ ‘bottom dollar,’ and so on. The two former were used in New York and +Boston as far back as 1840. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1882. <span class="sc">Stavely Hill</span>, <i>From Home to Home</i>. We reached the settlement of <i>Ubet</i>. The name had been selected from the slang phrase so laconically expressive of ‘You +may be sure I will’.… A night marauder took advantage of a good moon to place a ladder +against a window, hoping to secure the property of a gentleman asleep within the chamber. +As he lifted the window, and put his head in, the gentleman woke up, and with great +promptness presented his six-shooter, shouting out ‘You get!’ With equal promptness +the detected thief exclaimed <span class="sc">you bet!</span> and slid down the ladder,—<i lang="la">et procul in tenuem ex oculis evanuit auram</i>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb183">[<a href="#pb183">183</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Bret Harte</span>, <i>Poems, etc.</i>, <i>The Tale of a Pony</i>: Ah, here comes Rosey’s new turn-out! Smart! <span class="sc">You bet your life</span> ’twas that! +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">S. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>Roughing It</i>, ch. ii. ‘The mosquitoes are pretty bad about here, madam!’ ‘<span class="sc">You bet!</span>’ ‘What did I understand you to say, madam?’ ‘<span class="sc">You bet!</span>’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Daily Inter-Ocean</i>, Mar. 7. Congressional Report. Mr. Boutelle—That is the bravery to which you refer? +(Applause on the Republican side.) Mr. O’Ferrall—Well, sir, it is the right kind of +bravery: you may <span class="sc">bet your bottom dollar</span> on that. +</p> +<p>(American.)—<span class="sc">To bet one’s eyes</span> is a gambler’s term for an onlooker who neither takes part in, nor bets upon the +game. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bethel</b>, <i>verb.</i>—<i>See</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1740. <span class="sc">North</span>, <i>Examen</i>, p. 93. In the year 1680 <i>Bethel</i> and Cornish were chosen sheriffs. The former used to walk about more like a corn-cutter +than Sheriff of London. He kept no house, but lived upon chops, whence it is proverbial +for not feasting to <span class="sc">bethel</span> the city. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Be There</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (common).—<span class="sc">To be there</span> is to be on the <i lang="fr">qui vive</i>; alive; knowing; in one’s element. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Better</b>, <i>adv.</i> (vulgar).—More; without any idea of superiority. A depraved word; once in good usage, +but now regarded as a vulgarism. +</p> +<p class="cit">1587. <span class="sc">Fleming</span>, <i>Cont. Holinshed</i>, III., p. 1382, col. 2. Woorth one hundred and twentie pounds and <span class="sc">better</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1679. <span class="sc">Plot</span>, <i>Staffordshire</i> (1686), p. 239. The bodies … being <span class="sc">better</span> than an inch long. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1769. <span class="sc">Gray</span>, in <i>N. Nichols’ Corr.</i> (1843), p. 87. It is <span class="sc">better</span> than three weeks since I wrote to you. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">G. Borrow</span>, <i>Lavengro</i>, ch. lxx., p. 217 (1888). Following its windings for somewhat <span class="sc">better</span> than a furlong. +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <span class="sc">Ainsworth</span>, <i>Flitch of Bacon</i>, pt. I., ch. v. ‘Pastor of Little Dunmow Church for fifty years and <span class="sc">better</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Dorrit</i>, bk. I., ch. x., 75. ‘Yes. Rather <span class="sc">better</span> than twelve years ago.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Xmas Stories</i> (<i>Mess. from Sea</i>), p. 89 (H. ed.). ‘He shipped for his last voyage <span class="sc">better</span> than three years ago.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Better Half</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial).—humorous term for a wife. The history of the phrase is thus given by +Murray, ‘originally my better half, <i>i.e.</i>, the more than half of my being; said of a very close and intimate friend’; (<i>Cf.</i>, ‘the better part of me’ Shaks.; ‘<i lang="la">meæ partem animæ</i>,’ ‘<i lang="la">animæ dimidium meæ</i>,’ Horace; ‘<i lang="la">animæ partem … nostra majorem</i>’ Statius); especially (after Sidney) used for ‘my husband’ or ‘wife’; now, jocularly +appropriated to the latter. Formerly also applied to the soul, as the better part +of man. +</p> +<p class="cit">1580. <span class="sc">Sidney</span>, <i>Arcadia</i>, III., 280. [<i>Argalus to Parthenia, his wife.</i>] My deare, my <span class="sc">better halfe</span> (sayd hee), I find I must now leaue thee. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Circa</i> 1600. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, Sonnets, xxxix., 2. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">O how thy worth with manners may I sing, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">When thou art all the <span class="sc">better part</span> of me? </p> +<p class="line">What can mine own praise to mine own self bring? </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And what is’t but mine own when I praise thee. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1720. <span class="sc">Sheffield</span> (Duke of Buckingham), wks. (1753) I., 274. My dear and <span class="sc">better half</span> is out of danger. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1842. <span class="sc">Theodore Martin</span>, in <i>Fraser’s Magazine</i>, Dec., p. 241, col. 2. I … shall look out for a <span class="sc">better half</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Betting Round</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (racing).—Laying fairly and equally against nearly all the horses in a race, so that +no great risk <span class="pageNum" id="pb184">[<a href="#pb184">184</a>]</span>can be run. Commonly called <span class="sc">getting round</span>.—<i>Hotten.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bettor Round</b>, <i>subs.</i> (racing).—One who is addicted to <span class="sc">betting round</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. ‘<span class="sc">Thormanby</span>,’ <i>Famous Racing Men</i>, p. 75. He [John Gully] worked on gradually as a layer of odds—a ‘<span class="sc">bettor round</span>,’ or ‘leg,’ as he was called in those days. [<i>c.</i> 1820.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Betty</b> or <b>Bess</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A small instrument used formerly by burglars to force open doors and pick +locks. Now called a <span class="sc">jenny</span>; also jemmy; tivvil; twist; or screw. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Thieves</span>, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>English Rogue</i>, pt. I., ch. v., p. 47 (1874). <span class="sc">Betty</span>, an instrument to break a door. +</p> +<p class="cit">1705. <span class="sc">Ward</span>, <i>Hudibras Redivivus</i>. vol. II., pt. IX., p. 7. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">So Ruffains, who, with Crows and <span class="sc">Betties</span>, </p> +<p class="line">Break Houses, when it dark and late is. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. Bring <span class="sc">bess</span> and glym; <i>i.e.</i>, bring the instrument to force the door, and the dark lanthorn. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>Lon. Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, IV., 339. Expert burglars are generally equipped with good tools. They have a jemmy, +a cutter, a dozen of <span class="sc">betties</span>, better known as picklocks. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (colloquial).—To potter about; to fuss about. Usually said of a man assuming the +domestic functions of a woman. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">All betty!</span> <i>intj.</i> (thieves’).—cry of warning; ‘it’s all up; the game is lost!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Betty Martin.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">All my eye</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Betwattled</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (old).—Surprised; confounded; out of one’s senses; also bewrayed.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Between You and Me and the Bedpost.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bedpost</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bever</b>, <b>Bevir</b>, <b>Bœver</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Eton, Winchester, and Westminster Colleges).—An afternoon meal served in hall. An +old time term for a repast or snack between meals, especially in the afternoon; it +is still dialectical in some parts of England. Murray gives examples of its use dating +back to 1500. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>, p. 83. In summer time we were let out of afternoon school for a short time about +four p.m., when there was a slight refection of bread and cheese laid out in Hall. +It was called <span class="sc">beever-time</span>, and the pieces of bread <span class="sc">beevers</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">M. Morris</span>, in <i>English Illustrated Magazine</i>, Nov., p. 73. [At Eton, we] came up from cricket in the summer afternoons for <span class="sc">beaver</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beverage</b> or <b>Bevy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A tip; a vail; equivalent to the French <i lang="fr">pourboire</i>; money for drink, demanded, says Grose [1785], of any one having a new suit of clothes. +For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Tip</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Beware</b>, <i>subs.</i> (theatrical).—Explained by quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, vol. III., p. 149. ‘We [strolling actors] call breakfast, dinner, tea, supper, all +of them “numyare”; and all beer, brandy, water, or soup, are <span class="sc">beware</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>B Flats</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Bugs. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">F sharps</span>, and for synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Norfolk Howards</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Household Words</i>, xx., 326. Mrs. B. beheld one night a stout negro of the flat-back tribe—known among +comic writers as <span class="sc">b flats</span>—stealing up towards the head of the bed. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Brewer</span>, <i>Phrase and Fable</i>, s.v. <span class="sc">B flats</span>.—Bugs. The pun is ‘B’ (the initial letter), and ‘<span class="sc">flat</span>,’ from the flatness of the obnoxious insect. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb185">[<a href="#pb185">185</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bib.</b> <span class="sc">To nap a bib</span>, or <span class="sc">one’s bib</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—To weep; to ‘blubber’; to ‘snivel.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Lâcher les écluses</i> (popular: ‘to let loose the floodgates’; the phrase also means ‘to void urine’); +<i lang="fr">pisser des yeux</i> (common: ‘to urinate with the eyes’); <i lang="fr">pleuvoir des châsses</i> (thieves’: <i lang="fr">pleuvoir</i> = ‘to rain’; in military slang to void urine; <i lang="fr">châsse</i> = eye); <i lang="fr">verver</i> (thieves’: a corrupted form of <i lang="fr">verser</i>, ‘to pour out,’ to shed); <i lang="fr">viauper</i> (popular: this argotic verb also means ‘to go molrowing’ or ‘to lead a dissolute +life’); <i lang="fr">chasser des reluits</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">chasser</i> = ‘to expel,’ ‘to drive out’; <i lang="fr">reluits</i> = ‘the eyes,’ or ‘ogles’); <i lang="fr">chier des châsses</i> (popular: a coarse term); <i lang="fr">chigner</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">baver des clignots</i> (popular: literally ‘to drivel, slaver’ or ‘slobber the eyes’—<i lang="fr">cligner</i> signifying ‘to wink’ or ‘blink’; hence <i lang="fr">clignots</i>, ‘the blinkers’ or ‘winkers’); <i lang="fr">beugler</i> (popular: properly ‘to bellow’ [like a bull]). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">German Synonyms.</span> <i lang="de">Echen eichen</i> (from the Hebrew <i lang="und">echa</i>, the first word in the Lamentations of Jeremiah); <i lang="de">flonen</i>, <i lang="de">phlonen</i>, <i lang="de">flannen</i>, <i lang="de">flaussen</i>, or <i lang="de">flennen</i> (to pull one’s mouth awry, either for laughing or crying, but among German thieves +mainly in the former sense); <i lang="de">jalen jaulen</i>, or <i lang="de">jolen machen</i> (from the Hebrew <i lang="und">jolal</i>, whining; ‘to howl,’ to whine). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Italian Synonyms.</span> <i lang="it">Trignare</i> (this also signifies to ‘rain’: <i>Cf.</i>, the French, <i lang="fr">pleuvoir des châsses</i>); <i lang="it">slenzare</i> or <i lang="it">slenzire</i> (also ‘to urinate’: <i>Cf.</i>, French, <i lang="fr">lâcher les écluses</i>); <i lang="it">ventare</i> (the primary slang sense of <i lang="it">ventare</i> is ‘to moisten,’ hence ‘to shed tears’: properly ‘to blow,’ ‘to be windy’); <i lang="it">lenzare</i> or <i lang="it">lenzire</i> (primarily, in a slang sense, ‘to soak,’ ‘to wet’; from this the meaning is transferred +to signify ‘to make water,’ <i>i.e.</i>, ‘to urinate,’ and also ‘to shed tears’: the word is properly written <i lang="it">l’ance</i>; the derivation will be found under the French synonyms for <span class="sc">Adam’s ale</span>, <i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p>In Spanish there is one expression for ‘to cry’ which is full of poetry—<i lang="es">fabricar las perlas</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘to make pearls.’ Arabs likewise speak of tears as ‘pearls on the face.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bibables</b> or <b>Bibibles</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—Drink, as distinguished from food. [A coinage on the model of ‘edibles,’ +‘eatables,’ ‘drinkables,’ etc.; from Latin <span class="sc">bib</span>-<i>ĕre</i>, to drink, + <span class="sc">able</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, able to be drunk.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">William Howard Russell</span> (Special Correspondent of the <i>Times</i>), <i>My Diary in India in the years 1858–9</i>, I., p. 8. Could all the pale-ale, soda-water, sherry, porter, and <i lang="fr">vin ordinaire</i>, and the feebler <span class="sc">bibables</span> be turned into nectar, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <i>Pittsburg Despatch</i>, Aug. The table was loaded and spread with edibles and <span class="sc">bibibles</span> of every possible kind. [<span class="sc">de v.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bib-All-Night</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A toper; a confirmed drunkard. [From <span class="sc">bib</span>-<i>ĕre</i>, to drink, + <span class="sc">all-night</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1612. <span class="sc">Sylvester</span>, <i lang="la">Lacrymæ Lacrymaram</i>, p. 101. Bats, Harpies, Syrens, Centaurs, <span class="sc">Bib-all-nights</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bible</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—<i>See</i> quotations. +</p> +<p class="cit">1867. <span class="sc">Admiral Smyth</span>, <i>Sailors’ Word Book</i>. <span class="sc">Bible</span>, a hand-axe; a small holy-stone [a kind of sand-stone used in cleaning decks], so +called from seamen using them kneeling. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb186">[<a href="#pb186">186</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">W. Clark Russell</span>, <i>Sailors’ Language</i>, p. 14. <span class="sc">Bibles.</span> Small holy-stones, no doubt originally so called because they oblige those who use +them to kneel. They are also termed ‘prayer books’ for the same reason. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">That’s bible</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—That’s the truth; that’s A 1. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bible-Carrier</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vagrants’).—A person who sell songs without singing them. Often heard in the neighbourhood +of Seven Dials. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bible-Clerk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A College prefect in full power, appointed for one week. He +keeps order in school, reads the lessons in chapel, takes round <span class="sc">rolls</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), and assists at floggings. He is absolved from going up to <span class="sc">books</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) during his term of office. The prefect of <span class="sc">Hall</span> need not act as <span class="sc">Bible-clerk</span> unless he likes, and the prefect of School may choose any week he pleases; the rest +take weeks in rotation, in the order of their Chambers in College.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bibler and Bibling</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Blackwood’s Magazine</i>, vol. XCV., p. 73. [At dinner] portions of beef were served out to the boys … the +<span class="sc">Bible-clerk</span> meanwhile reading a chapter from the Old Testament. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 87. An hour … is expected to be employed in working under the superintendence +of the <span class="sc">Bible-Clerk</span>, as the præfect in daily ‘course’ is termed, who is responsible for a decent amount +of order and silence at these hours. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>, p. 103. Order was kept during school hours by the <span class="sc">Bible-clerk</span> and Ostiarus, two of the Præfects, who held these offices in rotation—the former +lasting for a week, the latter for one day only. They paraded School armed with sticks, +and brought up to the Head and Second Masters (who alone had the power of flogging) +the names of the delinquents which had been ‘ordered’ for punishment; the names of +the more heinous offenders being confided to the <span class="sc">Bible-clerk</span>, the others to the Ostiarus. +</p> +<p class="cit">1878. <span class="sc">Adams</span>, <i>Wykehamica</i>, p. 59. There appears to have been no regular <span class="sc">Bible-clerk.…</span> From this it has been inferred that the institution of these offices must have been +subsequent, and (some think) long subsequent to the Founder’s time. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bible-Pounder</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A clergyman. [From <span class="sc">bible</span> + <span class="sc">pounder</span>, from the practice indulged in by some excitable exponents, of pounding or beating +their hands upon the book or desk while preaching.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Devil-dodger</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bibler</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—Now called <span class="sc">bibling</span> (<i>q.v</i>.). +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>, p. 109. The first time a boy’s name was ordered, the punishment was remitted on +his pleading ‘<i lang="la">Primum tempus</i>.’ For a more serious breach of duty, a flogging of six cuts (a <span class="sc">bibler</span>) was administered, in which case the culprit had to ‘order his name to the <span class="sc">Bible-clerk</span>,’ and that individual, with the help of Ostiarius, performed the office of Jack Ketch. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bibler Under Nail</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (Winchester College).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bibling under nail</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>, p. 109. If a boy was detected in a lie, or any very disgraceful proceeding—a rare +occurrence, I am happy to say—he had to stand up in the centre of Junior row during +the whole of the School time, immediately preceding the infliction of the flogging; +this pillory process was called a <span class="sc">bibler under the nail</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bibling</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—Formerly called a <span class="sc">bibler</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). A flogging of six cuts on the small of the back, administered by the head or second +master. So called because the person to be operated upon <span class="pageNum" id="pb187">[<a href="#pb187">187</a>]</span><span class="sc">ordered</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) his name to the <span class="sc">Bible-clerk</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Blackwood’s Magazine</i>, vol. XCV., p. 79. Underneath is the place of execution, where delinquents are <span class="sc">bibled</span>. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 72. It need hardly be said that it [the rod] is applied in the ordinary fashion: +six cuts forming what is technically called a <span class="sc">bibling</span>—on which occasions the Bible-Clerk introduces the victim; four being the sum of a +less terrible operation called a ‘scrubbing.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bibling-Rod</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—The instrument with which a <span class="sc">bibling</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) was administered. It consisted of a handle with four apple twigs in the end, twisted +together. It is represented on ‘<i lang="la">Aut Disce</i>.’ It was invented and first used by Warden Baker in 1454. It is not used now. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bibling Under Nail</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (Winchester College).—A <span class="sc">bibling</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) administered for very heinous offences after an offender had stood under <span class="sc">nail</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).—<i>See</i> quot. in <span class="sc">Bibler under nail</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Biddy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A chicken; sometimes <span class="sc">chick-a-biddy</span>. Hence, figuratively. +</p> +<p>2. (familiar.)—A young woman, not necessarily Irish. In both these senses the word +appears in Grose [1785]. Since that time it would seem to have changed somewhat in +meaning as follows. +</p> +<p>3. (familiar.)—A woman, whether young or old. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">O. W. Holmes</span>, <i>Guardian Angel</i>, ch. xxviii., p. 233 (Rose Lib.). ‘Don’t trouble yourself about Kitty Fagan, for +pity’s sake, Mr. Bradshaw. The <span class="sc">biddies</span> are all alike, and they’re all as stupid as owls, except when you tell ’em just what +to do, and how to do it. A pack of priest-ridden fools!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Cornhill Mag.</i>, May, p. 510. How he gave to one old <span class="sc">biddy</span> ‘five guineas to buy a jack,’ and to another substantial help towards her boy’s schooling. +</p> +<p>4. (Winchester College.)—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bidet</span>. +</p> +<p>5. (American.)—A servant girl—generally Irish. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bidet</b>, or <b>Biddy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A bath. Juniors fill these for Præfect. The Winchester term +is the French word <i lang="fr">bidet</i>, the name given to the low narrow bedroom bathing stools, used principally by women, +but more frequently on the Continent than in England. They are of such a shape that +they can be bestridden. In this connection it may be mentioned, that in French <i lang="fr">bidet</i> also signifies ‘a small horse’ or ‘pony.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bidet</span>, commonly pronounced <i>biddy</i>, a kind of tub, contrived for ladies to wash themselves, for which purpose they bestride +it like a little French pony or post horse, called in France <span class="sc">bidets</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bien.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bene</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Biff</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A blow. ‘To give [one] a <span class="sc">biff</span> in the jaw’; <i>Anglicé</i>, ‘to wipe one in the chops.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bang</span>, and for synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Dig</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Biffin</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—‘My <span class="sc">biffin</span>!’ <i>i.e.</i>, ‘my pal!’ A biffin is properly a dried apple: Norfolk biffins especially are considered +great delicacies. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big.</b> <span class="sc">To talk</span> or <span class="sc">look big</span>, <i>phr.</i> (familiar).—To assume a pompous style or manner with a view to impressing others +with a sense of one’s importance; to <span class="pageNum" id="pb188">[<a href="#pb188">188</a>]</span>talk boastingly. A French equivalent is <i lang="fr">se hancher</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1579. <span class="sc">Spenser</span>, <i>Shep. Cal.</i>, Sept., 50. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The shepheards swayne you cannot wel ken, </p> +<p class="line">But it be by his pryde, from other men: </p> +<p class="line">They <span class="sc">looken bigge</span> as Bulls. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1604. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Winter’s Tale</i>, Act iv., Sc. 3. Not a more cowardly rogue, in all Bohemia: if you had but <span class="sc">looked big</span>, and spit at him, he’d have run. +</p> +<p class="cit">1771. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Humphry Clinker</i>, l. 26. The squire, in all probability, cursed his punctuality in his heart, but +he affected to <span class="sc">talk big</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. xv. ‘You will gain nought by <span class="sc">speaking big</span> with me.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1838. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span>, <i>Clockmaker</i>, 2 S., ch. viii. ‘He <span class="sc">looked big</span>, and <span class="sc">talked big</span>, and altogether was a considerable big man in his own consait.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <span class="sc">Anthony Trollope</span>, <i>The Warden</i>, p. 207. The Archdeacon waxed wrath, <span class="sc">talked big</span>, and <span class="sc">looked bigger</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big as All Outdoors</b>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—An expression intended to convey an idea of indefinite size; hugeness; +enormous capacity. +</p> +<p class="cit">1838. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span> (‘Sam Slick’), <i>The Clockmaker</i>, 2 S., ch. ii. The infarnal villain! Tell me who he is, and if he was <span class="sc">big as all outdoors</span>, I’d walk into him. <i>Ibid</i>, ch. iv. He is looking as <span class="sc">big as all outdoors</span> gist now, and is waitin’ for us to come to him. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big-Bellied</b>, <i>adj.</i> (colloquial).—Advanced in pregnancy. +</p> +<p class="cit">1711. <span class="sc">Addison</span> [Referred to by]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">John Forster</span>, <i>Life and Times of Oliver Goldsmith</i>, bk. II., ch. iv. My desires are as capricious as the <span class="sc">big-bellied</span> woman’s. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Ben</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A nickname for the clock in the tower of the Houses of Parliament at Westminster. +Named after Sir Benjamin Hall, the Commissioner of Works, under whose supervision +it was constructed. It was commenced in 1856, and finished in 1857. +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <i>The Register or Mag. of Biography</i>, p. 213. With Sir Charles Barry’s sanction he designed the ornament cast on the Westminster +Bell, familiarly known as <span class="sc">big Ben</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Punch</i>, No. 2039, p. 51. <span class="sc">Big Ben</span> struck two, and the house adjourned. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Bird.</b> <span class="sc">To get</span> or <span class="sc">give the big bird</span>, <i>phr.</i> (theatrical).—To be hissed on the stage; or, conversely, to hiss. When an actor or +actress <span class="sc">gets the big bird</span>, it may be from two causes: either it is a compliment for successful pourtrayal of +villainy, in which case the <span class="sc">gods</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) simply express their abhorence of the <i>character</i> and not of the actor; or, the hissing may be directed against the actor, personally, +for some reason or other. The <span class="sc">big bird</span> is the goose. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Goosed</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Graphic</i>, 10 April, p. 399. <span class="sc">To be goosed</span>, or, as it is sometimes phrased, to <span class="sc">get the big bird</span>, is occasionally a compliment to the actor’s power of representing villainy, but +more often is disagreeably suggestive of a failure to please. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Bug</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A person of standing or consequence, either self-estimated or in reality. +A disrespectful but common mode of allusion to persons of wealth or with other claims +to distinction. Variants are <span class="sc">Big-dog</span>, <span class="sc">Big-toad</span>, <span class="sc">Big-wig</span>, and <span class="sc">Great gun</span> (which <i>see</i> for general synonyms). +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <i>Widow Bedott Papers</i>, p. 301. Miss Samson Savage is one of the <span class="sc">big bugs</span>,—that is, she’s got more money than a’most anybody else in town. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <i>N. Y. Times</i>, February. The free-and-easy manner in which the hair-brained Sir Robert Peel described +some of the <span class="sc">big bugs</span> at Moscow has got him into difficulty. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb189">[<a href="#pb189">189</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">Schele de Vere</span>, <i>Americanisms</i>, p. 392. Persons of great wealth and distinction are irreverently called <span class="sc">big bugs</span>, and I-street, in Washington, is thus said to be inhabited by the foreign ambassadors +and other <span class="sc">big bugs</span>. J. C. Neal makes a nice distinction when he says of a rich man without social importance: +‘He is one of your <span class="sc">big bugs</span>, with more money than sense.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Texas Siftings</i>, Sep. 15. Don’t appear unduly surprised or flustrated if, on answering the front +door bell, you find Mr. Gladstone wiping his feet on the door mat. Invite him to walk +in in a cool, collected tone of voice.… Show him you have entertained <span class="sc">big bugs</span> before. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Country</b>, <i>subs.</i> (hunting).—The open country. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Dog of the Tanyard</b>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—A consequential, pompous individual; one who will neither allow others +a voice in any matter, or permit dissent from his own views. The obvious derivation +is from the customary guarding of tanyards by ferocious watch-dogs. For synonyms, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Great gun</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Dog with the Brass Collar</b>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—The chief in any undertaking or enterprise; a leader. A simile evidently +derived from the stable or kennel. The phrase is sometimes shortened to <span class="sc">big dog</span>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Great gun</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">J. R. Bartlett</span>, <i>Americanisms</i>, p. 42. In some parts of the country, the principal man of a place or in an undertaking +is called the <span class="sc">big dog with a brass collar</span>, as opposed to the little curs not thought worthy of a collar. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">Alan Pinkerton</span>, <i>The Molly Maguires</i>, p. 24. ‘Yes,’ said Dormer, ‘Lawler is the <span class="sc">big dog</span> in these parts now; besides he kapes a good tavern, and will see no old-timer, or +young one either, for that matther, sufferin’ from want while he can relieve him!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Drink</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—1. The ocean; more particularly applied to the Atlantic. Also called +the <span class="sc">big pond</span>, <span class="sc">herring pond</span>, the <span class="sc">puddle</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Mount Royal</i>, ch. xiii. ‘I was coming across the <span class="sc">big drink</span> as fast as a Cunard could bring me.’ +</p> +<p>2. (Western American.)—When a Western plainsman talks of the <span class="sc">big drink</span>, he is always understood to mean the Mississippi river. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To take a big</span> or <span class="sc">long drink</span> is to partake of liquor from a large glass. It is very customary when calling for +refreshment to state whether a <span class="sc">long</span> or <span class="sc">short drink</span> is required. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Figure.</b> <span class="sc">To go the big figure</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—A variant of ‘to go the whole hog,’ or ‘to go the whole animal.’ It signifies +embarking upon an enterprise of magnitude. The phrase is mainly current in the Southern +States, and is derived from a term used in poker. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <i>Pickings from the Picayune</i>, p. 226. When I saw that, I thought I might as well <span class="sc">go the big figure</span>, you see, and so I grabbed the bag; but mischief would have it, that just then the +policeman grabbed me and took me to the caboose. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Biggest</b>, <i>adj.</i> (American).—A superlative often used in the sense of ‘the best’ or ‘the finest.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">Ruxton</span>, <i>Life in Far West</i>, p. 129. The thermal springs are regarded by the trappers as the breathing-places +of his Satanic majesty; and considered, moreover, to be the <span class="sc">biggest</span> kind of medicine to be found in the mountains. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Washington</i> (<i>Pa.</i>) <i>Review</i>. <i>The Pittsburg Times</i> is as breezy a journal as comes to this office. It is the <span class="sc">biggest</span> little paper we are acquainted with. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Biggest Toad in the Puddle</b>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—One of the many <span class="pageNum" id="pb190">[<a href="#pb190">190</a>]</span>bold, if equivocal metaphors to which the West has given rise. The <span class="sc">biggest toad in the puddle</span> is the recognised leader or chief whether in politics, or in connection with the +rougher avocations of pioneer life. Equivalent to <span class="sc">the big dog with the brass collar</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Big bug</span>, and for synonyms generally, <span class="sc">Great gun</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">J. R. Bartlett</span>, <i>Americanisms</i>, p. 42. <span class="sc">Biggest toad in the puddle.</span> A Western expression for a head-man; a leader of a political party, or of a crowd. +Not an elegant expression, though sometimes well applied. Thus a Western newspaper, +in speaking of the most prominent man engaged in the political contest for one of +the Presidential candidates before Congress, says: ‘Mr. D. D. F.—is the <span class="sc">biggest toad in the puddle</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Biggin</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A coffee machine in two parts—a strainer, and a coffee-pot +for the infusion. It took its name from the inventor, a Mr. Biggin, who received letters +patent ‘some years’ previous to 1803. (<i>Gent. Mag.</i>, lxxiii., p. 1094.) +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Biggity</b>, <i>adv.</i> (American).—Consequential; giving oneself airs. A negro term. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1884. <span class="sc">S. L. Clemens</span>, <i>Life on the Mississippi</i>, p. 511. These railroads have made havoc with the steamboat commerce. The clerk of +our boat was a steamboat clerk before these roads were built. In that day the influx +of population was so great, and the freight business so heavy, that the boats were +not able to keep up with the demands made upon their carrying capacity; consequently +the Captain was very independent and airy—pretty <span class="sc">biggity</span> as Uncle Remus would say. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Gun</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—A person of consequence. Possibly of sporting origin. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Great gun</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Texas Siftings</i>, Oct. 13. ‘Who’s a <span class="sc">big gun</span>? You don’t consider that insignificant ink-slinger across the way a <span class="sc">big gun</span>, do you?’ ‘My wife can hardly wait to get it out of the mail,’ shouted Jones, desperately. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big-Head.</b> <span class="sc">To have a big-head</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—1. To be conceited; bumptious. Also applied to men or youths who are +‘cocksure’ of everything, or affected in manner.—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Swell-head</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">J. R. Bartlett</span>, <i>Americanisms</i>, p. 43. Boys who smoke cigars, chew tobacco, drink strong liquors, gamble, and treat +their parents and superiors as their inferiors—of such a boy it is said, ‘He has <span class="sc">got the big-head</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Texas Siftings</i>, Oct. 20. If we were to base our calculation upon the corpulency of his iron hat +and helmet, we should say it was a case of <span class="sc">big-head</span>, while his legs were long as a pair of duplex pinchers, his arms like the fans of +a windmill, his feet like the foot of Mont Blanc, while his digital annex is like +an inverted ham. +</p> +<p>2. The phrase also signifies the after effect of a debauch. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To get the big-head.</span> To get drunk. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Screwed</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big House</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The workhouse,—a phrase used by the very poor; sometimes called the <span class="sc">large house</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. I., p. 52. ‘As long as they kept out of the <span class="sc">big house</span> (the workhouse), she would not complain.’ <i>Ibid</i>, <i>II.</i>, p. 251. The men hate the thought of going to the <span class="sc">big house</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Mouth</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—Excessive talkativeness; loquacity. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">All mouth.</span> For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Gas</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Nuts to Crack</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (American).—An undertaking of <span class="pageNum" id="pb191">[<a href="#pb191">191</a>]</span>magnitude; one not easy to perform. [From a presumed difficulty in cracking large +nuts.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big One</b> or <b>Big ’Un</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A man of note or importance. The current colloquialism is <span class="sc">big-wig</span>, but at one time <span class="sc">big-one</span> was the more frequently-used expression. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Great gun</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress</i>, p. 42. Then up rose Ward, the veteran Joe, And, ’twixt his whiffs, suggested briefly +That but a few at first should go, And those, the light-weight Gemmen chiefly; As +if too many <span class="sc">big ones</span> went, They might alarm the Continent! +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big People</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—Persons of standing or consequence. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Great gun</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1858. <span class="sc">Anthony Trollope</span>, <i>Dr. Thorne</i>, I., p. 43. He would <span class="corr" id="xd33e31321" title="Source: n">in</span> no way assume a familiarity with bigger men than himself; allowing to the bigger +men the privilege of making the first advances. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 81. When one is absolutely in the dirt at their feet, perhaps these <span class="sc">big people</span> won’t wish one to stoop any further. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Pond</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—The Atlantic. Also called <span class="sc">the big drink</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1838. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span> (‘Sam Slick’), <i>The Clockmaker</i>, 3 S., ch. xviii. He [old Clay] is all sorts of a hoss, and the best live one that +ever cut dirt this side of the <span class="sc">big pond</span>, or t’other side either. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Sala</span>, <i>Living London</i>, p. 204. Next time Miss Ward crosses the <span class="sc">big pond</span>, I earnestly hope that she will cross the ‘Rockies,’ and triumphantly descend the +Pacific slope. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Pot</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—A person of consequence. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Great gun</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Punch’s Almanac</i>, <i>The Cad’s Calendar</i>. Lor! if I’d the ochre, make no doubt, I could cut no end of <span class="sc">big pots</span> out. Call me cad? When money’s in the game, Cad and swell are pooty much the same. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big-Side</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Rugby School).—The combination of all the bigger fellows in the school in one and +the same game or run; also the ground specially used for the game so denominated. +Used also at other public schools. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big-Side Run</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Rugby School).—A paper chase, in which picked representatives of all houses take +part, as opposed to a house run. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Take</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—That which takes the public fancy; a great success, etc.,—in short, anything +that ‘catches on.’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Take</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Talk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—Pompous speech; a pedantic use of long words. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <i>Saturday Review</i>, Feb., p. 280. [With regard to words like ‘psithurism,’ ‘cheirognomy,’ ‘scintillating +eyes,’ ‘the phaesimbrotous sun’] perhaps they have been grown so accustomed to <span class="sc">big talk</span> that, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big-Wig</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A person of consequence; one high in authority or rank. [From <span class="sc">big</span> + <span class="sc">wig</span>, an allusion to the large and ornate headgear of men of importance in former times.] +The term is used both contemptuously and humorously. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Great gun</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1703. <i>English Spy</i>, p. 255. Most noble cracks, and worthy cousin trumps,—permit me to introduce a brother +of the togati, fresh as a new-blown rose, and innocent as the lilies of St. Clements. +Be unto him ever ready to promote his wishes, whether for spree or sport, in term +and out of term,—against the Inquisition and their bull-dogs<span class="pageNum" id="pb192">[<a href="#pb192">192</a>]</span>—the town-raff and the bargees—well-blunted or stiver-cramped—against dun or don—nob +or <span class="sc">big wig</span>—so may you never want a bumper of bishop. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Vanity Fair</i>, ch. xx. We live among bankers and city <span class="sc">big-wigs</span>, and be hanged to them, and every man, as he talks to you, is jingling his guineas +in his pocket. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">H. Kingsley</span>, <i>Geoffrey Hamlyn</i>, ch. xlv. So you are going to sit among the <span class="sc">big-wigs</span> in the House of Lords. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876 <i>circa</i>. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘Justice and Law.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The Penge Case you know took a curious twist, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">But how it occurred, we can’t guess, </p> +<p class="line">Unless, unexpected, some turn of the wrist, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Has got some ‘<span class="sc">big-wig</span>’ in a mess. </p> +<p class="line">To some folks it seems rather queer, now, you see, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">When ‘Sentence of Death’ had been passed, </p> +<p class="line">That one of the four is allowed to go free, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And her prison doors wide open cast. </p> +<p class="line xd33e31485">Chorus. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1880. <span class="sc">A. Trollope</span>, <i>The Duke’s Children</i>, ch. xxvi. ‘The Right Honorable gentleman no doubt means,’ said Phineas, ‘that we +must carry ourselves with some increased external dignity. The world is <span class="sc">bigwigging</span> itself, and we must buy a bigger wig than any we have got, in order to confront the +world with proper self-respect.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big-Wigged</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (popular).—Pompous; consequential. [From <span class="sc">big-wig</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">[g] ed</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Carlyle</span>, <i>John Sterling</i>, pt. I., ch. vii. And along with obsolete spiritualisms, he sees all manner of obsolete +thrones and <span class="sc">big-wigged</span> temporalities. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big-Wiggery</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A display of consequence, or pomposity. [From <span class="sc">big-wig</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">[g] ery</span>, a condition.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Book of Snobs</i>, ch. ii. Whilst Louis XIV., his old squaretoes of a contemporary—the great worshipper +of <span class="sc">bigwiggery</span>—has always struck me as a most undoubted and Royal Snob. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <i>Household Words</i>, xii., 250. All this solemn <span class="sc">bigwiggery</span>—these triumphs, ovations, sacrifices, orations. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big-Wiggism</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—Pomposity. [From <span class="sc">big-wig</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">[g] ism</span>, a state or condition.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1871–72. <span class="sc">G. Eliot</span>, <i>Middlemarch</i>, ch. xvii. I determined not to try anything in London for a good many years at least. +I didn’t like what I saw when I was studying there—so much empty <span class="sc">big-wiggism</span> and obstructive trickery. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Big Words</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—Pompous speech; ‘crack-jaw’ words. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">To talk big</span>, and <span class="sc">Big talk</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">Grenville Murray</span>, <i>Member for Paris</i>, I., p. 103. ‘I don’t like such cynicism!’ ‘Oh, cynicism is a <span class="sc">big word</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bilbo</b> or <b>Bilboa</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A sword. Bilboa in Spain was once renowned for well-tempered blades. Grose +[1785] quotes the term as slang; this, however, is somewhat doubtful. +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">Greene</span>, <i>Disputation, etc.</i>, in wks. X., 236. Let them doe what they dare with their <span class="sc">bilbowe</span> blades, I feare them not. +</p> +<p class="cit">1693. <span class="sc">Congreve</span>, <i>Old Batchelor</i>, Act iii., Sc. 7. Tell them, I say, he must refund—or <span class="sc">bilbo’s</span> the word, and slaughter will ensue. +</p> +<p class="cit">1713. <i>Guardian</i>, No. 145. ‘He that shall rashly attempt to regulate our hilts, or reduce our blades, +had need to have a heart of oak … <span class="sc">Bilbo</span> is the word, remember that and tremble.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1816. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Old Mortality</i>, ch. iv. ‘It was all fair play; your comrade sought a fall, and he has got it.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">‘That is true enough,’ said Bothwell, as he slowly rose; ‘put up your <span class="sc">bilbo</span>, Tom.’ +</p> +<p>2. A kind of stock—a long iron bar with sliding shackles for the ankles of prisoners, +and a lock by which to fasten the bar at one end to the ground. The derivation is +very uncertain. +</p> +<p class="cit">1557. <span class="sc">Hakluyt</span>, <i>Voy.</i>, I., 295. I was also conveyed to their lodgings … where I saw a pair of <span class="sc">bilbowes</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb193">[<a href="#pb193">193</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1594. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Terrors of the Night</i>, in wks. (Grosart) III., 255. He that is spyced with the gowte or the dropsie, frequently +dreameth of fetters and manacles, and being put on the <span class="sc">bilbowes</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1596. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Hamlet</i>, Act v., Sc. 2. <i>Ham.</i> … Methought I lay worse than the mutines in the <span class="sc">bilboes</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1695. <span class="sc">Congreve</span>, <i>Love for Love</i>, Act iii., Sc. 6. Now a Man that is marry’d, has as it were, d’ye see, his Feet in +the <span class="sc">bilboes</span>, and may-hap mayn’t get ’em out again when he wou’d. +</p> +<p class="cit">1714. <i>Memoirs of John Hall</i> (4 ed.), p. 19. And are those shear’d, or put into <span class="sc">bilboes</span>, and handcufft. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Bilboes</span>, the punishing a person at sea, by laying or putting the offender in irons, or a +sort of stocks, but more severe than the common stocks. +</p> +<p class="cit">1815. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Guy Mannering</i>, ch. xxxiv. ‘And now let us talk about our business.’ ‘<i>Your</i> business, if you please,’ said Hatterick; ‘bagel and donner!—mine was done when I +got out of the <span class="sc">bilboes</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bile</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. The female <i>pudenda</i>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Monosyllable</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A vulgarism for ‘boil.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bilgewater</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Bad beer. Properly the name given to the drainings to the lowest part of +a ship; being difficult to get at, these become, at times, exceedingly foul and offensive. +For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Swipes</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bilk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A word, formerly in general use, to which a certain stigma of vulgarity +is now attached. Uncertain in derivation—possibly a corrupted form of ‘balk’—it was +first employed technically at cribbage to signify the spoiling of an adversary’s score +in the crib. Among obsolete or depraved usages may be mentioned. +</p> +<p><i>Subs.</i> 1. (obsolete.)—A statement or string of words without sense, truth, or meaning, jointly +or severally. +</p> +<p class="cit">1663. <span class="sc">Jonson</span>, <i>Tale of a Tub</i>, I., i. <i>Tub.</i> He will have the last word, though he talk <span class="sc">bilk</span> for’t. <i>Hugh.</i> <span class="sc">Bilk!</span> what’s that. <i>Tub.</i> Why nothing; a word signifying Nothing. [Note refers to Cole’s <i>English Dict.</i> (n.d. given) and to Halliwell, <i>Arch. and Prov. Words</i>, s.v.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1740. <span class="sc">North</span>, <i>Examen</i>, p. 213. Bedloe was sworn, and being asked what he knew against the prisoner, answered, +Nothing.… Bedloe was questioned over and over, who still swore the same <span class="sc">bilk</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A hoax; an imposition; a humbug. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Sell</span>. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bite</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1664. <span class="sc">Butler</span>, <i>Hudibras</i>, II., iii., 376. Spells, Which over ev’ry month’s blank-page In th’ Almanack strange +<span class="sc">bilk’s</span> presage. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1694<span id="xd33e31819">.</span> <span class="sc">Congreve</span>, <i>Double Deal</i>, III., x. There he’s secure from danger of a <span class="sc">bilk</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1733 <i>circa</i>. <span class="sc">North</span>, <i>Lives</i>, i., 260. After this <span class="sc">bilk</span> of a discovery was known. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>3. (common.)—A swindler; a cheat. This is the most familiar current use of the word +in its substantive form, and is applied mainly to persons who cheat cabmen of their +fares, or to men who swindle prostitutes out of their wretched earnings. Also <span class="sc">bilker</span>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Sell</span>. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bite</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1790. <span class="sc">Sheridan</span>, in <i>Sheridaniana</i>, 109. Johnny W[i]lks, Johnny W[i]lks, Thou greatest of <span class="sc">bilks</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Japhet</i>, ch. ix. After a little delay, the wagoner drove off, cursing him for a <span class="sc">bilk</span>, and vowing that he’d never have any more to do with a ‘larned man.’ +</p> +<p>4. (American.)—A strongly offensive term used in the West to signify a person who +habitually sponges upon another, and who never by any chance makes <span class="pageNum" id="pb194">[<a href="#pb194">194</a>]</span>a return or even offers to do so. In English slang it means a downright cheat or swindler +(<i>see</i> sense 3). It will therefore be seen that the Western American usage has considerably +softened its meaning. +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">McClure</span>, <i>Rocky Mountain</i>, p. 211. The term was entirely novel to me, and I first asked its meaning of a landlord, +who explained to me by saying that a <span class="sc">bilk</span> is a man who never misses a meal and never pays a cent. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i> (obsolete).—Fallacious; without truth or meaning. +</p> +<p class="cit">1740. <span class="sc">North</span>, <i>Examen</i>, p. 129. To that [Oates’s plot] and the author’s <span class="sc">bilk</span> account of it I am approaching. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (common).—To cheat; defraud; evade one’s obligations; escape from, etc. (<i>see subs.</i>, sense 2, and compare with quotations). For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Stick</span>. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bite</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1677. <span class="sc">Wycherley</span>, <i>Plain Dealer</i>, Act v., Sc. 3. 1<span>.</span> <i>Knight</i>: Ay, a great lawyer that shall be nameless <span class="sc">bilked</span> me too. +</p> +<p class="cit">1729. <span class="sc">Gay</span>, <i>Polly</i>, Act ii., Sc. 9. Honour plays a bubbles part, ever <span class="sc">bilk’d</span> and cheated. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Bilk</span> (v.), to cheat, balk, disappoint, deceive, gull, or bubble; also to go out of a publick-house +or tavern, without paying the reckoning. +</p> +<p class="cit">1750. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, bk. XIV., ch. iv. ‘I promise you,’ answered Nightingale, ‘I don’t intend to <span class="sc">bilk</span> my lodgings; but I have a private reason for not taking a formal leave.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bilke.</span> ‘Let us <span class="sc">bilk</span> the rattling cove’; let us cheat the hackney coachman of his fare: bilking a coachman, +a box keeper, or a poor whore, was formerly among men of the town thought a gallant +action. +</p> +<p class="cit">1847. <span class="sc">Lytton</span>, <i>Lucretia</i>, pt. II., ch. xix. ‘Are you playing me false? Have you set another man on the track +with a view to <span class="sc">bilk</span> me of my promised fee?’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To bilk the blues</span>, <i>phr.</i> (thieves’).—To evade the police.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blues</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To bilk the schoolmaster</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To obtain knowledge or experience without paying for it. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act ii., Sc. 5. <i>Log.</i> Well, don’t grumble—every one must pay for his learning—and you wouldn’t <span class="sc">bilk the schoolmaster</span>, would you? But, come, I’m getting merry; so if you wish for a bit of good truth, +come with me, and let’s have a dive among the cadgers in the back slums, in the Holy +Land. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bilker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A cheat; a swindler. Sometimes abbreviated to <span class="sc">bilk</span> (sense 3). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bilking</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The action of cheating or swindling. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bill</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Eton College).—1. A list of the boys who have to go to the head master at 12 o’clock; +also of those who get off <span class="sc">absence</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), or names-calling, <i>e.g.</i>, an eleven playing in a match are thus exempt. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Brinsley Richards</span>, <i>Seven Years at Eton</i>. Some of the small boys whom this delightful youth tempted to ape his habits, had +often occasion to rue it when they staggered back to college giddy and sick, carrying +with them a perfume which told its tale to their tutors, and caused them to be put +in the <span class="sc">bill</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (Harrow School.)—Names-calling. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To hang up a bill</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American political).—Explained by quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Cornhill Magazine</i>, June, p. 628. <span class="sc">To hang up a bill</span> is to pass it through one or more of its stages, and then to lay it aside and defer +its further consideration for a more or less indefinite period. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To rush a bill</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American political).—To expedite the passing of a bill through the Senate and Congress. +<i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Rush</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb195">[<a href="#pb195">195</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Cornhill Magazine</i>, June, p. 628. <span class="sc">To rush a bill</span> is an expression well known in the American Senate, and occasionally also used here. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Long</span> or <span class="sc">short bill</span>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (thieves’).—A long or short term of imprisonment. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To pay a bill at sight</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—Said of a man or woman who is always ready for sexual commerce. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billbrighter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A small fagot used for lighting coal fires in Kitchen. So called +from a servant, Bill Bright, who was living in 1830. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>, p. 89. The Kitchen is a spacious apartment with a vaulted roof, occupying the entire +height of the building on the west side of the quadrangle, and at least half its length; +here we might see a few Fags endeavouring to coax Jem Sims, John Coward, or Mother +Mariner (the cooks), for an extra supply of mashed potatoes, till Kitchen is cleared +by the exasperated Manciple, who has just detected a delinquent in the act of secreting +under his gown an armful of the small faggots used for lighting the Kitchen fires +(called <span class="sc">Bill Brighters</span>), an opportunity for purloining which was never allowed to slip by a Junior of a +properly regulated mind. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billed Up</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (military).—In the Guards’ regiments to be <span class="sc">billed up</span> signifies to be confined to barracks. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billet</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A situation; a ‘berth.’ [From <span class="sc">billet</span>, an official military order requiring food and shelter to be provided for the soldier +bearing it.] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To get a billet</span>, <i>phr.</i> (thieves’)—When in prison to obtain promotion to duties which carry with them certain +privileges. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billiard Block</b>, <i>subs.</i> (society).—An epithet applied to one who puts up with disagreeables for the sake +of pecuniary or other advantages; also, occasionally, to one who acts as ‘jackal’ +for another and to <span class="sc">tame cats</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1831. <span class="sc">Mrs. Gore</span>, <i>Mothers and Daughters</i>, p. 75. The Duke of L. was fortunate in somewhat more than the usual apportionments +of <i lang="fr">souffre-douleurs</i>, doubles, <span class="sc">billiard-blocks</span>, living hunters, younger brothers, to talk to the young lady nieces, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billiard-Slum</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Australian thieves’).—False pretences. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To give on the billiard-slum.</span>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Mace</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billingsgate</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—Foul, coarse language; scurrilous vituperation. From the evil reputation +which the market of the same name has enjoyed for centuries. In the seventeenth century +references to the violent and abusive speech of those frequenting the place were very +numerous. In French an analogous reference is made to the Place Maubert, long noted +for its noisy market. +</p> +<p class="cit">1677. <span class="sc">Wycherley</span>, <i>Plain Dealer</i>, Act iii. <i>Quaint.</i> … Whose reputation, though never so clear and evident in the eye of the world, yet +with sharp invectives—<i>Wid.</i> Alias, <span class="sc">Billingsgate</span>. <i>Quaint.</i> With poignant and sour invectives, I say, I will deface. +</p> +<p class="cit">1711. <span class="sc">Defoe</span>, <i>The Review</i>, vol. VII., preface. As long as faction feeds the flame, we shall never want <span class="sc">Billingsgate</span> to revile one another with. +</p> +<p class="cit">1712. <i>Spectator</i>, No. 451. Our satire is nothing but ribaldry, and <span class="sc">Billingsgate</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Esmond</i>, ch. ix. If she had come with bowl and dagger, would have been routed off the ground +by the enemy with a volley of <span class="sc">Billingsgate</span>, which the fair person always kept by her. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb196">[<a href="#pb196">196</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>. Messrs. Cannon and Co. defied the surgeon or anybody else to say the fish was bad, +and kept jabbering away both at the same time and in elegant <span class="sc">Billingsgate</span>, until the constable returned; but he came without the doctor, who had gone to attend +an urgent case out of the town, and the people at his house could not say when he +would return. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To Billingsgate</span> or <span class="sc">talk Billingsgate</span>.—To scold; to talk coarsely, or violently; to ‘slang.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1678. <span class="sc">A. Littleton</span>, <i>Lat. Dict.</i> <span class="sc">To Billingsgate it.</span> <i lang="la">Arripere maledictum ex trivio.</i> +</p> +<p>So also, <span class="sc">You’re no better than a Billingsgate fish-fag</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, rude and ill-mannered; <span class="sc">Billingsgatry</span>, scurrilous language. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billingsgate Pheasant</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A red herring or bloater. This is also called a <span class="sc">two-eyed steak</span>, but for synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Atlantic-ranger</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bill of Sale</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Widow’s weeds. Such are also said to have <span class="sc">apartments</span> or a <span class="sc">house to let</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—1. A pocket or neck-handkerchief, chiefly of silk. The various ‘fancies’ +have been thus described:—<span class="sc">Belcher</span>, darkish blue ground, large round white spots, with a spot in the centre of darker +blue than the ground. This was adopted by Jem Belcher, the pugilist, as his ‘colours,’ +and soon became popular amongst ‘the fancy.’ <span class="sc">Bird’s-eye wipe</span>, a handkerchief of any colour, containing white spots. The blue bird’s-eye is similar +to the Belcher except in the centre. Sometimes a <span class="sc">bird’s-eye wipe</span> has a white ground and blue spots. <span class="sc">Blood-red fancy</span>, red. <span class="sc">Blue Billy</span>, blue ground, generally with white figures. <span class="sc">Cream fancy</span>, any pattern on a white ground. <span class="sc">King’s man</span>, yellow pattern on a green ground. <span class="sc">Randal’s man</span>, green, with white spots; named after the favourite colours of Jack Randal, pugilist. +<span class="sc">Water’s man</span>, sky coloured. <span class="sc">Yellow fancy</span>, yellow with white spots. <span class="sc">Yellow man</span>, all yellow. For synonyms generally, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Wipe</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Snowden</span>, <i>Mag. Assistant</i>, 3 ed., p. 444. A silk handkerchief. A <span class="sc">billy</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (thieves’.)—Stolen metal.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Billy-hunting</span>. +</p> +<p>3. (American thieves’.)—A weapon used by desperadoes, and also by the police when +apprehending violence or dangerous resistance on the part of the former when pursued. +The construction of a <span class="sc">billy</span> varies, but usually it is composed of a piece of untanned cowhide, as hard as horn +itself, some six inches in length, twisted or braided into a sort of handle, and covered +from end to end with woollen cloth. One extremity is loaded with three quarters of +a pound of lead; to the other is firmly attached a loop, large enough to admit a man’s +hand, formed of strong linen cord, and intended to allow the <span class="sc">billy</span> to hang loose from the wrist, and at the same time prevent it being lost or wrenched +from the grasp of its owner. At close quarters, it proves a very savage and formidable +arm of defence, resembling, but being much more dangerous than <span class="pageNum" id="pb197">[<a href="#pb197">197</a>]</span>the ordinary slung-shot in use by policemen and others. Twelve ounces of solid lead +and raw-hide, dashed against the thickest skull by a strong armed ruffian, would as +effectually silence a man as an ounce of the same metal discharged from the bore of +a Springfield rifle. It may be remarked that <span class="sc">billy</span> in English slang is a policeman’s staff, a very different weapon. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Daily Inter-Ocean</i>, Ap. 4. The condition of the man reported as having been shot twice in the head on +Thursday afternoon, is not at all alarming. It transpires that his wounds are not +of the gun-shot sort, but were inflicted with a <span class="sc">billy</span> in the hands of a Pinkerton man. +</p> +<p>4. (popular.)—A policeman’s staff; a truncheon. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Daily News</i>, Ap. 7, p. 5, col. 1. Anderson was first brought down by a pistol shot, and was then +corrected with a <span class="sc">billy</span>, till he declared himself vanquished. +</p> +<p>5. (Australian and New Zealand.)—A bushman’s tea-pot or saucepan. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <span class="sc">G. A. Sala</span>, in <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, Sept. 3, 5, 5. They got enough flour from Sydney to make their ‘dampers,’ and enough +tea to boil in their <span class="sc">billies</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <span class="sc">G. Sutherland</span>, <i>Australia</i>, p. 104. A <span class="sc">billy</span>, or small tin can, for boiling tea or coffee. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Illustrations</i>, Oct., p. 22. Refusing a pressing invitation to stay and spend Christmas with the +good people with whom I had been boarding, and heeding lightly their remarks as to +‘new chum,’ ‘dangers of the bush,’ ‘all alone,’ ‘strange country,’ etc., etc., I took +a look at the map, and packed my ‘swag.’ Now a ‘swag’ proper, usually contains blankets, +towels, ‘<span class="sc">billy</span>,’ pannikin, and many other articles … <i>Ibid</i>, p. 28. The ‘<span class="sc">billy</span>’ is off, but the roadman (Irish, of course) gives me a grateful cup of beer, and +accompanies me to the hotel another mile down the road. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billy Barlow</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A street clown; a mountebank—so called from the hero of a slang song. Billy +was a real person, semi-idiotic, and though in dirt and rags, fancied himself a swell +of the first water. Occasionally he came out with real witticisms. He was a well-known +street character about the East-end of London, and died in Whitechapel Workhouse. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. III., p. 148. <span class="sc">Billy Barlow</span> is another supposed comic character, that usually accompanies either the street-dancers +or acrobats in their peregrinations. The dress consists of a cocked-hat and red feather, +a soldier’s coat (generally a sergeant’s with sash), white trousers with the legs +tucked into Wellington boots, a large tin eye-glass, and an old broken and ragged +umbrella. +</p> +<p>These merry Andrews are otherwise called <span class="sc">Jim crows</span> and <span class="sc">saltimbancos</span>; among the French, <i lang="fr">un pitre</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billy-Boy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—A vessel like a galliot, with two masts, the fore-mast square-rigged. +They hail mainly from Goole. Also called <span class="sc">humber-keels</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billy-Button</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming slang).—1. Mutton. +</p> +<p>2. (tailors’.)—A contemptuous term for a journeyman tailor. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, III., p. 117. And there I did Jeremiah Stitchem to his <span class="sc">Billy Button</span>. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 142. A laughable sketch entitled <span class="sc">Billy Button’s</span> ride to Brentford, and I used to be Jeremiah Stitchem, a servant of <span class="sc">Billy Button’s</span>, that comes for a ‘situation.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billy-Buzman</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A thief whose speciality is silk pocket and neckerchiefs. [From <span class="sc">billy</span>, slang for a pocket-handkerchief, + <span class="sc">buzman</span>, slang for a thief.] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb198">[<a href="#pb198">198</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Billy-Cock</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A round, low-crowned hat—generally of soft felt, and with a broad brim. +Speculation has been rife as to the derivation of the term. Murray says ‘apparently +the same as “bully-cocked,” used 1721, probably meaning after the fashion of the “bullies” +or hectoring “blades” of the period’ (<i>see</i> quot.). A writer, C. K. C. in <i>Notes and Queries</i>, however [6 S., ii., p. 355], points out that ‘these hats were first made for “Billy +Coke”—or to speak more respectfully, Mr. William Coke—a gentleman well known at Melton +Mowbray a quarter of a century ago [<i>circa</i> 1853], and used by him at the great shooting parties at Holkham. The old-established +hatters in the West-end still call them “Coke hats.” ’ Of the reality of the personality +of William Coke of Melton fame there is, and can be no doubt, and although the name +of the hat <i>may</i> be derived from ‘bully-cock,’ yet the weight of evidence seems to be against it, +unless a slight transference of meaning, very common in slang, has taken place. +</p> +<p class="cit">1721. <span class="sc">Amherst</span>, <i lang="la">Terræ Filius</i>, No. 46, p. 246. [A description of an Oxford ‘smart’ or dandy.] When he walks the +street, he is easily distinguish’d by a stiff silk gown, which rustles in the wind, +as he struts along; a flaxen tie-wig, or sometimes a long natural one, which reaches +down below his waist; a broad <span class="sc">bully-cock’d</span> hat, or a square cap of above twice the usual size; white stockings, thin Spanish +leather shoes; his cloaths lined with tawdry silk, and his shirt ruffled down the +bosom as well as at the wrists. Besides all which marks, he has a delicate jaunt in +his gait, and smells very philosophically of essence. +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <i>Life Among Colliers</i>, 35. I was told to take off my bonnet, and tie a <span class="sc">billy-cock</span> [wide-awake] tight down. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">Farjeon</span>, <i>Griff</i>, p. 14. With the men, mole-skin trousers, pea-jackets, <span class="sc">billy-cock</span> hats, and dirty pipes predominated. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Pall Mall G.</i>, March 28, p. 11, col. 1. He wore a plaited blouse drawn in at the waist and a dilapidated +<span class="sc">billy-cock</span> hat. +</p> +<p>2. (Australian.)—The <span class="sc">billy-cock</span> of the Antipodean colonies differs from the English head-gear known by the name in +being made of hard instead of soft felt, and in having a turned up brim. +</p> +<p>For synonymous terms of head-gear, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Deerstalker</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billy-Fencer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A marine store dealer.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Fence</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billy-Goat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A tufted beard; similar to that of a goat. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Standard</i>, 11 Feb., p. 3, col. 2. Hair turning grey, hazel eyes, <span class="sc">billy-goat</span> beard. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billy-Hunting</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—1. Collecting and buying old metal.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Billy-fence</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. I., p. 465. ‘He goes tatling and <span class="sc">billy-hunting</span> in the country (gathering rags and buying old metal).’ +</p> +<p>2. Going out to steal pocket-handkerchiefs.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Billy</span>, sense 1. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billy Noodle</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—This combination stands in American slang for a fellow whose self-conceit +leads him to suppose himself specially attractive to the other sex. [From <span class="sc">Billy</span>, a male name, + <span class="sc">noodle</span>, a fool.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Billy-Roller</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—<i>See</i> quotations. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb199">[<a href="#pb199">199</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Mrs. Trollope</span>, <i>Michael Armstrong</i>, ch. xiv. ‘What is the <span class="sc">billy-roller</span>?’… ‘It’s a long stout stick, ma’am, that’s used often and often to beat the little +ones employed in the mills when their strength fails.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <span class="sc">Ure</span>, <i>Dict. Arts</i>, III., 1166. This is the <span class="sc">billy-roller</span>, so much talked of in the controversies between the operatives and masters in the +cotton-factories, as an instrument of cruel punishment to children, though no such +machine has been used in cotton-mills for half a century at least. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bim</b>, <b>Bimshire</b>, <i>subs.</i> (West Indian).—Nicknames for a Barbadian and the island of Barbadoes. This place +is also sometimes jeeringly called <span class="sc">Little England</span>, and Barbadian is contracted into <span class="sc">’Badian</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <span class="sc">Paton</span>, <i>Down the Islands</i>. Barbadoes is known all the world over as the little island that pays her way; it +has never been conquered; its people are enterprising and energetic, go-ahead and +driving; in short, the business men of these islands (the Caribbees). Barbadian may +therefore be said to mean a man with ‘go and grit, energy and <i>vim</i>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bing.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bynge a waste</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Binge</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Oxford Univ.)—A drinking bout. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bingham’s Dandies</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—The 17th Lancers. From its Colonel (Lord Bingham) causing the men’s uniforms +to fit so well. It is one of the smartest regiments of the service. They were also +at one time christened the <span class="sc">Horse Marines</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). Two troops of this showy corps were employed as marines on board the ‘Hermione’ +frigate during some severe fighting in the West Indies. Hence the sobriquet now almost +quite forgotten. But the 17th are still well-known as the <span class="sc">Death or Glory Boys</span>, from their badge, which consists of a death’s head, with the words, ‘or glory.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bingo</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—Brandy, or other spirituous liquor. Thought by Dr. Murray to be a humorous +formation from B. for ‘brandy’ (<i>Cf.</i>, ‘B. and S.’) and stingo. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bingo</span>, brandy. +</p> +<p class="cit">1830. <span class="sc">Bulwer Lytton</span>, <i>Paul Clifford</i>, p. 41. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<h4>FIGHTING ATTIE’S SONG.</h4> +<p class="line"><i>Air.</i>—‘He was famed for deeds of arms </p> +<p class="line">’Rise at six—dine at two— </p> +<p class="line">Rob your man without ado- </p> +<p class="line">Such my maxims—if you doubt </p> +<p class="line">Their wisdom, to the rightabout!’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">(<i>Signing to a sallow gentleman on the same side of the table to send up the brandy +bowl.</i>) +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">‘Pass round the <span class="sc">bingo</span>,—of a gun, </p> +<p class="line">You musty, dusty, <i>husky son</i>!’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">(<i>The sallow gentleman in a hoarse voice</i>,) +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">‘Attie—the <span class="sc">bingo’s</span> now with me, </p> +<p class="line">I can’t resign it yet, d’ye see!’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">(<i>Attie, seizing the bowl</i>,) +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">‘Resign, resign it—cease your dust!’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">(<i>Wresting it away, and fiercely regarding the sallow gentleman.</i>) +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">‘You have resigned it—and you must.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first">CHORUS. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">‘You have resigned it—and you must.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1861. <span class="sc">Hughes</span>, <i>Tom Brown at Oxford</i>, xxxiii. Some soda water with a dash of <span class="sc">bingo</span> clears one’s head in the morning. +</p> +<p>For all synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span>. +</p> +<p>Hence <span class="sc">bingo boy</span>, a tippler; a drunkard. <span class="sc">Bingo mort</span>, a drunken woman.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Mort</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bingy</b>, <i>adj.</i> (trading).—A term largely used in the butter trade to denote bad, ropy butter; nearly +equivalent to <span class="sc">vinnied</span>. It may be noted that in the English Dialect Society’s Chestere <i>Glossary</i>, <span class="sc">bingy</span> is given as a peculiar clouty or frowsty taste in milk—the first stage of turning +sour. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb200">[<a href="#pb200">200</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Mrs. Gaskell</span>, <i>Life of C. Bronté</i>, ch. iv. The milk, too, was often <span class="sc">bingy</span>, to use a country expression for a kind of taint that is far worse than sourness, +and suggests the idea that it is caused by want of cleanliness about the milk pans, +rather than by the heat of the weather. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Mrs. Gaskell</span>, <i>Sylvia’s Lovers</i>, ch. xv. I’ve heerd my aunt say as she found out as summat was wrong wi’ Nancy as +soon as the milk turned <span class="sc">bingy</span>, for there ne’er had been such a clean lass about her milk-cans afore that. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Binnacle Word</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old nautical).—A fine or affected word, which sailors jeeringly offer to chalk up +upon the binnacle.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Birch-Broom</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming slang).—A room. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Like a birch-broom in a fit</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—Said of a rough, towzly head. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 90. I should like to know what looks worse than to see a young man or woman with +their hair in an uproar, <span class="sc">like a birch-broom in a fit</span>, and some of you chaps down there look as if you hadn’t had your hair combed since +last reaping time, when you did it with a field-rake, which is very harrowing to one’s +feelings. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Birchin Lane.</b>—<span class="sc">To send one to Birchin Lane</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To castigate; to flog. A punning allusion to <i>birch</i>, a rod. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Strap oil</span>, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bird</b>, <i>subs.</i> (theatrical).—Mr. H. J. Byron says that when a piece is hissed the actors say ‘The +<span class="sc">bird’s</span> there!’;—the bird alluded to being the goose notorious for its hissing capacities.—<i>See</i> however, <span class="sc">Big bird</span> and <span class="sc">Goose</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (old).—To thieve; to steal; to look for plunder. So used by Ben Jonson. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bird-Cage</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. A bustle, an article of feminine attire, used for extending the skirts +of the dress. So called because at one time constructed of such a size and in such +a manner as to be not altogether unlike an elongated <span class="sc">bird-cage</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860 <i>circa</i>. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘The Agricultural Irish Girl,’ verse 3. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">She has no great education, for </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">She’s not much past her letters; </p> +<p class="line">But for acting like a lady, I </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Would like to see her betters: </p> +<p class="line">She does not read Ouida’s works, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Nor <i>Bow Bells’</i> fashions pages; </p> +<p class="line">And she does not wear those things behind, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">The ladies call <span class="sc">bird-cages</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">Among <span class="sc">English Synonyms</span> may be mentioned canary cage; backstaircase; false hereafter; bishop. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Un volapuk</i>; <i lang="fr">un strapontin</i>; <i lang="fr">un lieutenant</i> (a pun on <i lang="fr">tenant lieu de ce qui manque</i>); <i lang="fr">un nuage</i> (<i lang="fr">parcequ’il cache la lune</i>; <i lang="fr">lune</i> = the posteriors). +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A four-wheeled cab. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Growler</span>. +</p> +<p>3. (racing.)—The paddock at the Newmarket race-course where saddling takes place. +It adjoins the grand stand. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>St. James’s Gazette</i>, May 1, p. 1. All the favourites were brought into the <span class="sc">bird-cage</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Birdlime</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming slang).—1. Time. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—A thief. From the glutinous substance of the same name spread upon twigs +for the purpose of catching birds and holding them fast. +</p> +<p class="cit">1705. <span class="sc">Vanbrugh</span>, <i>Confederacy</i>, V., 2. That <span class="sc">birdlime</span> there stole it. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb201">[<a href="#pb201">201</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1705. <span class="sc">Vanbrugh</span>, <i>Confederacy</i>, III., 2. My rogue of a son has laid his <span class="sc">birdlime</span> fingers on’t. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bird’s-Eye</b>, <b>Bird’s-Eye Fogle</b>, <b>Bird’s-Eye Wipe</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A silk handkerchief spotted with eye-like markings.—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Billy</span> and <span class="sc">Wipe</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1665. <span class="sc">Pepys</span>, <i>Diary</i>, May 14. To church, it being Whit-Sunday; my wife very fine in a new yellow <span class="sc">bird’s-eye</span> hood, as the fashion is now. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Hughes</span>, <i>Tom Brown at Oxford</i>, ch. xviii. He wore a blue <span class="sc">bird’s-eye</span> handkerchief round his neck. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, August 7, p. 6, col. 2. His neckerchief was of the same hue [silver grey], with +a light crimson <span class="sc">bird’s-eye</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bird-Witted</b>, <i>adj.</i> (old).—Inconsiderate; thoughtless; easily imposed on.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="cit">1605. <span class="sc">Bacon</span>, <i>Adv.</i> <i>Learning</i>, II. (1861), 228. If a child be <span class="sc">bird-witted</span>, that is, hath not the faculty of attention, the mathematics giveth a remedy thereunto. +</p> +<p class="cit">1650. <span class="sc">Ussher</span>, <i>Ann.</i>, VI., 360. [He] proved … but a <span class="sc">bird-witted</span> man. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Birk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (back slang).—A ‘<span class="sc">crib</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>), <i>i.e.</i>, a house. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Diggings</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Birthday Suit</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Naked; in the <span class="sc">buff</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); in the suit in which Adam and Eve first saw each other, and ‘were not ashamed.’ +A French equivalent is <i lang="fr">s’habiller en sauvage</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1771. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Humphry Clinker</i>, l. 61. I went in the morning to a private place, along with the housemaid, and we +bathed in our <span class="sc">birth-day soot</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bishop</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A warm decoction of wine, orange or lemon peel, and sugar—but variously +compounded. Similar to <span class="sc">flip</span> and <span class="sc">purl</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1703. <i>English Spy</i>, p. 255. Most noble cracks, and worthy cousin trumps,—permit me to introduce a brother +of the togati, fresh as a new-blown rose, and innocent as the lilies of St. Clements. +Be unto him ever ready to promote his wishes, whether for spree or sport, in term +and out of term,—against the Inquisition and their bull-dogs—the town-raff and the +bargees—well-blunted or stiver cramped—against dun or don—nob or big-wig—so may you +never want a bumper of <span class="sc">bishop</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1738. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Women Who Cry Oranges</i>, wks., 1755, IV., i., 278. Well roasted, with sugar and wine in a cup. They’ll make +a sweet <span class="sc">bishop</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1753. <i>The World</i>, No. 37. Punch, <span class="sc">bishop</span>, cool tankard, and negus are equally denied me. +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Pickwick</i>, ch. xlviii., p. 421. He and the landlord were drinking a bowl of <span class="sc">bishop</span> together. +</p> +<p>2. <i>subs.</i> (American).—A bustle—part of feminine attire consisting of a pad worn on the back +part of the waist, and designed to give prominence to the skirt. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Bird-cage</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">Bartlett</span>, <i>Dictionary of Americanisms</i>, p. 42. <span class="sc">Bishop.</span> An appendage to a lady’s wardrobe, otherwise called a bustle. +</p> +<p>I sing the <span class="sc">bishop</span>, alias the bustle. +</p> +<p class="cit">1862–75. <span class="sc">Saxe</span>, <i>Progress</i>. Imperial Fashion decides the gravest questions which divide the world. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">If wrong may not, by circumstance, be right,— </p> +<p class="line">If black cravats be more genteel than white,— </p> +<p class="line">If, by her <span class="sc">bishop</span>, or her ‘grace,’ alone </p> +<p class="line">A genuine lady, or a church, is known. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">3. (common.)—A chamber utensil; a <span class="sc">jerry</span>; <span class="sc">jordan</span>; and <span class="sc">it</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p>4. (Winchester College.)—The sapling with which a fagot is bound together. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—1. A term among horse dealers, for burning marks into a horse’s teeth, after he has +lost them by age; or, by other deceptive arts to give a good appearance to a bad horse. +By <span class="pageNum" id="pb202">[<a href="#pb202">202</a>]</span><span class="sc">bishopping</span>, a horse is made to appear younger than he is. The expression is derived from the +name of a person who initiated the practice, and has no connection with ‘to bishop,’ +a provincialism for ‘to burn.’ For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Fig</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1727. <span class="sc">R. Bradley</span>, <i>Family Dict.</i>, vol. I., s.v. ‘Horse.’ This way of making a <i>horse</i> look young, is by Horse Coursers called <span class="sc">Bishoping</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Ill. Lon. News</i>, 23 August, 171, col. 2. <span class="sc">To bishop</span> … a term … signifying the use of deceptive arts to make an old horse appear like +a young one. +</p> +<p>In French the process is called <i lang="fr">masquer en alezan</i>; also <i lang="fr">maquiller un gayet</i>. +</p> +<p>2. To murder by drowning. The term, now obsolete, is like <span class="sc">burke</span> and <span class="sc">boycott</span> from the name of an individual. A man named Bishop drowned a boy in Bethnal Green, +in 1831, to sell the body for dissecting purposes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>I. L.</i> (<i>Account of a New Play</i>). I burked the papa, now I’ll <span class="sc">bishop</span> the son. [<span class="sc">d.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Athenæum</i>, p. 559, col. 1. We have ‘to burke,’ and ‘<span class="sc">to bishop</span>.’ [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bismarquer</b>, <i>verb</i> (familiar).—To cheat; to play foul at cards or billiards. A word formed from the +name of Prince Bismarck, the German Chancellor, whose policy in 1865–6 roused the +indignation of a large section of European thought. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit</b>, <b>Bite</b>, <b>Byte</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. An old cant term for money. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Actual</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1532. <i>Use of Dice Play</i> (Percy Soc.). Now waxen is he so proud of his gain, because he hath gotten a new +chain, fyer new apparel, and some store of <span class="sc">byte</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <i>Defence of Conny-Catching</i>, in Greene’s wks. XI., 44. So some that would not stoope a farthing at cardes, would +venter all the <span class="sc">byte</span> <i>in their boung</i> at dice. +</p> +<p class="cit">1607. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Jests to make you Merie</i>, in wks. (Grosart) II., 328. If they follow you in the street, and once know where +the bung and the <span class="sc">bit</span> is, as much as to say your purse and the money. +</p> +<p class="cit">1608. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Belman of London</i>, in wks. (Grosart) III., 122. To learne before he play what store of <span class="sc">Bit</span> he hath in his <i>Bay</i>, that is, what money he hath in his pursse. +</p> +<p class="cit">1789. <span class="sc">Geo. Parker</span>, <i>Life’s Painter</i>, p. 149. <i>Snack the</i> <span class="sc">bit</span>. To share the money. +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">H. Ainsworth</span>, <i>Rookwood</i>, bk. III., ch. v. He is caught—he must ‘stand and deliver’; then out with the dummy +[pocket book], and off with the <span class="sc">bit</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (colloquial)—The name given to coins varying in value according to locality—usually, +however, to the silver piece of the lowest denomination. Fourpenny pieces are still +called <span class="sc">bits</span> in English slang, but are more popularly known as <span class="sc">Joeys</span> (<i>q.v.</i>, for synonyms); and in Demerara the term is in general use for the same coin; in +America a 12½ cent piece is called a <span class="sc">bit</span>, and a defaced 20 cent piece is termed a <span class="sc">long bit</span>. A <span class="sc">bit</span> is the smallest coin in Jamaica, equal to 6d. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Bit</span> (<span class="sc">s.</span>) … In the <i>West Indies</i>, it is the least piece of silver coin, which goes current at 7 pence half-penny. +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <i>Scribner’s Magazine</i>, July, p. 277. For a young city, San Francisco is very much wedded to petty traditions. +It clings to the <span class="sc">bit</span> with a deathlike tenacity; clings to it against all reason and against its own interests. +The <span class="sc">bit</span> is a mythical quantity. It is neither twelve and a half cents, nor half of twenty-five; +it is neither fifteen cents nor ten cents. If you buy a <span class="sc">bit’s</span> worth, and throw down twenty-five cents, you get ten cents back; if you offer the +same ten cents in lieu of a <span class="sc">bit</span>, you are looked upon as a mild sort of a swindler. And yet, the <span class="sc">bit</span> is the standard of minimum monetary value. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bitch</b>, <i>subs.</i> (low).—1. An opprobrious term for a woman, <span class="pageNum" id="pb203">[<a href="#pb203">203</a>]</span>generally containing an implication of lewdness and ‘fastness.’ Not now in literary +use, though formerly so. [From its primary sense of a female dog.] It is the most +offensive apellation that can be given to an English woman, even more provoking than +that of whore. +</p> +<p class="cit">1400. <i>Chester Pl.</i> (1843), 181. Whom calleste thou queine skabde <span class="sc">biche</span>? [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1575. <span class="sc">J. Still</span>, <i>Gammer Gurton</i>, II., ii. Come out, thou hungry needy <span class="sc">bitch</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1712. <span class="sc">Arbuthnot</span>, <i>John Bull</i> (1755), 9. An extravagant <span class="sc">bitch</span> of a wife. +</p> +<p class="cit">1750. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, bk. XVII., ch. iii. There was my lady cousin Bellaston, and my lady Betty, and my +lady Catharine, and my lady I don’t know who; damn me if ever you catch me among such +a kennel of hoop-petticoated <span class="sc">bitches</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1833. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>P. Simple</i> (1834), 446. You are a … son of a <span class="sc">bitch</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—Applied, opprobriously, as in sense 1, to a man. It has long since passed +out of decent usage. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1500. <i>E. E. Misc.</i> (1855), 54. He is a schrewed <span class="sc">byche</span>, In fayth, I trow, he be a wyche. +</p> +<p class="cit">1675. <span class="sc">Hobbes</span>, <i>Odyssey</i>, xviii., 310. Ulysses looking sourly answered, You <span class="sc">bitch</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1750. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, bk. XVII., iii. It is an old acquaintance of above twenty years standing. I can +tell you landlord is a vast comical <span class="sc">bitch</span>, you will like <span class="sic">un hugely</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (low).—1. To go whoring; molrowing; to frequent the company of prostitutes. +</p> +<p>2. To yield, or give up an attempt through fear.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p>3. (common.)—To spoil; to bungle. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To stand bitch.</span>—To make tea, or do the honours of the tea table, or to perform a female part. <span class="sc">Bitch</span> is here used generically for a woman. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bitch Booby</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old military).—A country girl.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bitchery</b>, <i>subs.</i> (low).—Harlotry; lewdness. [From <span class="sc">bitch</span>, sense 1, + <span class="sc">ery</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1532–3. <span class="sc">More</span>, <i>Confut. Tindale</i>, wks., 648, col. 1. Such marriage is very vnlawfull leckery and plain abhominable +<span class="sc">bychery</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1598. <span class="sc">Marston</span>, <i>Sco. Villanie</i>, I., iv., 188. He will vnline himselfe from <span class="sc">bitchery</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1663–1704. <span class="sc">Thomas Brown</span>, <i>Works, Serious and Comical</i>, III., p. 94. Thither run Sots purely to be drunk that they may … forget … the roguery +of their lawyers, the <span class="sc">bitchery</span> of their paramours, or the ingratitude of the world. +</p> +<p>(?). <span class="sc">Stanyhurst</span>, <i>Description of Ireland</i>, p. 14. The quip sat as unseemly in his mouth as for a whore to reprehend <span class="sc">bitchery</span>, or for an usurer to condemn simony. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bitch Party</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A party composed of women. Originally an Oxford term for a tea-party, +tea being considered a beverage only fit for women. [From <span class="sc">bitch</span>, a woman, + <span class="sc">party</span>.] Also <span class="sc">hen party</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Stag party</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <span class="sc">C. Whibley</span>, <i>In Cap and Gown</i>, Characters of Freshmen, p. 176. ‘The studious freshman … goeth to a small <span class="sc">bitch-party</span> and findeth his gown taken “by mistake.” ’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bite</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. An old slang term for money.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bit</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—The female <i>pudenda</i>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Monosyllable</span>. +</p> +<p>3. An imposition; a piece of humbug; a ‘sell’ or ‘do.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bilk</span>, <span class="sc">Bam</span>, <span class="sc">Bargain</span>, and <span class="sc">Sell</span>, for synonyms. The sense runs <span class="pageNum" id="pb204">[<a href="#pb204">204</a>]</span>through all stages, from jocular hoaxing to downright swindling. Also in the sense +of disappointment, as in the old proverb ‘the biter bit.’ A man is bitten when he +burns his fingers meddling in matters, which, though promising well, turn out failures.—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Cross bite</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1711. <span class="sc">Steele</span>, <i>Spectator</i>, No. 156, ¶ 2. It was a common <span class="sc">bite</span> with him, to lay Suspicions that he was favoured by a Lady’s Enemy. +</p> +<p class="cit">1721. <span class="sc">Amherst</span>, <i lang="la">Terræ Fil.</i>, ix., 43. Sharpers would not frequent gaming-tables, if the men of fortune knew the +<span class="sc">bite</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1817. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Rob Roy</i>, ch. ix. ‘It’s all a bam, ma’am—all a bamboozle and a <span class="sc">bite</span>, that affair of his illness.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <i>Sat. Review</i>, Ap. 14, 475, 2. That form of practical joking, which in the time of ‘The Spectator,’ +was known as a <span class="sc">bite</span> … in the popular slang of the day, is designated ‘a sell.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily News</i>, Ap. 18, p. 5, col. 4. Lord Randolph Churchill, we fear, has been making Mr. Gladstone +the victim of what, in the slang of Addison’s time, would have been called a <span class="sc">bite</span>, and what in the slang of our own time is called a ‘sell.’ +</p> +<p>4. (old.)—A sharper; cheat; trickster. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bilk</span>. <i>See</i> <span class="sc">Rook</span> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="cit">1742. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Miss Lucy</i> (1762), 176. Is this wench an idiot, or a <span class="sc">bite</span>? Marry me, with a pox! +</p> +<p class="cit">1751. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Peregrine Pickle</i>, ch. xcviii. From which circumstance it was conjectured that Peregrine was a <span class="sc">bite</span> from the beginning, who had found credit on account of his effrontery and appearance, +and imposed himself upon the town as a young gentleman of fortune. +</p> +<p class="cit">1787. <span class="sc">S. Jenyns</span>, in <i>Dodsley</i>, III., 169. The fool would fain be thought a <span class="sc">bite</span>. +</p> +<p>5. (popular.)—Applied in a transferred sense to anybody or anything suspected of being +different to what it appears, but not necessarily in a bad sense. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846. <span class="sc">Brackenridge</span>, <i>Mod. Chiv.</i>, 21. The jockeys suspected that the horse was what they call a <span class="sc">bite</span>, that under the appearance of leanness and stiffness, was concealed some hidden quality +of swiftness. +</p> +<p>6. (common.)—One who drives a hard bargain; a ‘close fist.’ +</p> +<p>7. (familiar.)—A nickname for a Yorkshireman.—<i>See</i> <i>Daily News</i>, Sept. 11, 1883, and <i>Yorkshire Post</i>, Jan. 9, 1884. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily News</i>, Sept. 4, p. 5, col. 6. The great and puissant race known indifferently as ‘tykes’ +or <span class="sc">bites</span>. +</p> +<p>8. (printers’.)—An irregular white spot on the edge or corner of a printed page, caused +by the frisket not being sufficiently cut out. +</p> +<p class="cit">1677. <span class="sc">Moxon</span>, Mech. Exerc. in Savage <i>Dict. Print</i>, s.v. <span class="sc">Bite</span>. If the frisket is not sufficiently cut away, but covers some part of the form, so +that it prints on the frisket, it is called a <span class="sc">bite</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">Blades</span>, <i>Caxton</i>, 130. In ‘Speculum Vitæ Christi’ we actually find a <span class="sc">bite</span>, half of the bottom line remaining unprinted. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (old).—1. To deceive; cheat; swindle; to ‘do’ or ‘take in.’ In modern colloquial +English <span class="sc">to slick</span> or <span class="sc">to sell</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). Formerly used both transitively and passively; now only in latter. +</p> +<p class="cit">1669. <i>Nicker Nicked</i>, in <i>Hart. Misc.</i> (ed. Park), ii., 109. Then a rook … follows him close, and engages him in advantageous +bets, and at length worries him, that is gets all his money, and then they smile and +say, ‘The lamb is <span class="sc">bitten</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1709. <span class="sc">Steele</span>, <i>Tatler</i>, No. 12. Nay, he has <span class="sc">bit</span> you fairly enough, that’s certain. +</p> +<p class="cit">1724. <i>A Journey through England.</i> Many a poor German hath been <span class="sc">bit</span> by an ordinary or his taylor, after this manner; they have suffered the poor wretch +to run in debt, made him an extravagant bill, and then arrested him, and so forced +him to pay their demands. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb205">[<a href="#pb205">205</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1731. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>The Lottery</i>, Sc. 3. However, Madam, you are <span class="sc">bit</span> as well as I am; for I am no more a lord, than you are a fortune. +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. [<span class="sc">Nares</span>] <i>Love in a Barn, an old ballad</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">He shall not have my maiden-head, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">I solemnly do swear; </p> +<p class="line">But I’ll <span class="sc">bite</span> him of a portion, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Then marry with Ralph, my dear. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1838. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Yellowplush Memoirs</i>, ch. x. ‘You were completely <span class="sc">bitten</span>, my boy—humbugged, bamboozled—ay, and by your old father, you dog.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Barry Lyndon</i>, ch. xvii., p. 232. I have no particular pleasure in recalling my Newmarket doings. +I was infernally <span class="sc">bit</span> and bubbled in almost every one of my transactions there. +</p> +<p>Hence 2. (popular.)—To strike a hard bargain. +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—To steal; <i>e.g.</i>, ‘to <span class="sc">bite</span> the roger,’ to steal a portmanteau; ‘to <span class="sc">bite</span> the wiper,’ <i>i.e.</i>, to purloin a handkerchief. +</p> +<p><i>Intj.</i> (old.)—1. Formerly an equivalent to the modern ‘Sold!’ ‘Done!’ etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1704. <span class="sc">Cibber</span>, <i>Careless Husband</i>, Act iii. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Ld. Mo.</i> ’Tis possible I may not have the same regard to her frown that your Lordship has. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Ld. Fop.</i> That’s <span class="sc">bite</span>, I’m sure; he’d give a joint of his little finger to be as well with her as I am. +</p> +<p class="cit">1738. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Polite Conversation</i> (conv. i.). +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Miss.</i> I’m sure the gallows groans for you. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Nev.</i> <span class="sc">Bite</span>, Miss; I was but in jest. +</p> +<p class="cit">1714. <span class="sc">Addison</span>, <i>Spectator</i>, No. 514. It is a superstition with some surgeons who beg the bodies of condemned +malefactors, to go to the gaol and bargain for the carcass with the criminal himself.… +The fellow who killed the officer of Newgate, very forwardly, and like a man who was +willing to deal, told him, ‘Look you, Mr. Surgeon, that little dry fellow, who has +been half starved all his life, is now half dead with fear, cannot answer your purpose.… +Come, for twenty shillings I am your man.’ Says the Surgeon, ‘Done, there’s a guinea.’ +This witty rogue took the money, and as soon as he had it in his fist, cries, ‘<span class="sc">bite</span>, I am to be hanged in chains<span>.</span>’ +</p> +<p>2. (Charterhouse.)—A warning = <i>Cave!</i> +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To do a thing when the maggot bites</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common), is to do it when the fancy takes one; ‘at one’s own sweet will.’ When a +person acts from no apparent motive in external circumstances, he is said to have +‘a maggot in his head,’ to have ‘a bee in his bonnet’; or, in French, <i lang="fr">avoir des rats dans la tête</i>; in Platt-Deutsch, to have a mouse-nest in his head, the eccentric behaviour being +attributed to the influence of the internal irritation. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Apartments to let</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bite One’s Hips</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (tailors’).—To regret a word or action. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bite One’s Name In</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (common).—To drink heavily; to tipple; also to drink greedily. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bite on the Bridle</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (old).—To be pinched in circumstances; to be reduced; in difficulties. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Biter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A practical joker; a hoaxer; one who deceives; a cheat and trickster. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bite</span>. The term now only survives in the proverbial expression, ‘the biter bit.’ For synonyms, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Rook</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1669. <i>Nicker Nicked</i>, in <i>Hart. Misc.</i> (ed. Park), ii., 108. [<span class="sc">Biter</span> is given in a list of names of cheats and thieves’.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1680. <span class="sc">Cotton</span>, <i>Complete Gamester</i>, in Singer’s <i>Hist. Playing Cards</i> (1816), p. 333. <i>Hectors</i>, <i>setters</i>, <i>gilts</i>, <i>pads</i>, <span class="sc">biters</span>, <i>etc.</i>, and these may all pass under the general appellation of <i>rooks</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1709. <span class="sc">Steele</span>, <i>Tatler</i>, No. 12. A <span class="sc">biter</span>, who is a dull fellow, that tells <span class="pageNum" id="pb206">[<a href="#pb206">206</a>]</span>you a lye with a grave face, and laughs at you for knowing him no better than to believe +him. +</p> +<p class="cit">1711. <i>Spectator</i>, No. 47. These gentlemen are commonly distinguished by the name of <span class="sc">biters</span>: a race of men that are perpetually employed in laughing at those mistakes which +are of their own production. +</p> +<p class="cit">1712. <span class="sc">Spectator</span>, No. 504. A <span class="sc">biter</span> is one who tells you a thing you have no reason to disbelieve in itself, and perhaps +has given you, before he bit you, no reason to disbelieve it for his saying it; and +if you give him credit, laughs in your face, and triumphs that he has deceived you. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">Coombe</span>, <i>Syntax, Picturesque</i>, c. xix. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Pray have you travell’d so far north, </p> +<p class="line">To think we have so little wit, </p> +<p class="line">As by such <span class="sc">biters</span> to be bit? </p> +</div> +<p class="first">2. (old.)—An amorous woman (sexually). <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Athanasian wench</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bite the Ear</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (thieves’).—To borrow. Formerly, a term of endearment; to caress fondly. For synonyms, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Shins</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">J. W. Horsley</span>, in <i>Macm. Mag.</i>, xl., 502. He used to want to <span class="sc">bite my ear</span> (borrow) too often. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bite the Thumb</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (old).—To make a gesture of contempt, which was formerly regarded in the light of +an insult. Nares says the thumb in the action represented a fig, and the whole was +equivalent to ‘a fig for you.’ There are several gestures of this kind. That best +known is probably <span class="sc">taking a sight</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). A similar gesture of contempt is used by the lower orders in France which, there +is little doubt, is the ‘<span class="sc">biting the thumb</span>’ spoken of in <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>. The person using the gesture placed the nail of his thumb under the front teeth +of the upper jaw, and then jerked the thumb forward, using at the same time an expression +equivalent to ‘I don’t care that for you.’ Another contemptuous action is placing +the thumb between the closed fore and middle fingers; while according to Darwin’s +<i>Expression of the Emotions</i>, it appears that with the Dakota Indians of North America ‘contempt is shown … conventionally +by the hand being closed and held near the breast; then, as the fore arm is suddenly +extended, the hand is opened and the fingers separated from each other. If the person +at whose expense the sign is made is present, the hand is moved towards him and the +head sometimes averted from him.’ This sudden extension and opening of the hand perhaps +indicates the dropping or throwing away a valueless object. +</p> +<p class="cit">1595. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>, i., 1. I will <span class="sc">bite my thumb</span> at them; which is a disgrace to them if they bear it. +</p> +<p class="cit">1596. <span class="sc">Lodge</span>, <i>Wit’s Miserie</i>. Behold next I see Contempt marching forth, giving me the fies, <span class="sc">with his thombe in his mouth</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1638. <span class="sc">Randolph</span>, <i>Muses’ L. Glass</i>, O. Pl., ix., 220. Dogs and pistols! <span class="sc">To bite his thumb</span> at me! Wear I a sword To see men <span class="sc">bite their thumbs</span>? +</p> +<p class="cit">1678. <i>Rules of Civility</i>, transl. from French, p. 44. ’Tis no less disrespectful <span class="sc">to bite the nail of your thumb</span>, by way of scorn and disdain, and drawing your nail from between your teeth, to tell +them you value not this what they can do. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bite Up</b>, <i>subs.</i> (tailors’).—An unpleasant altercation. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit-Faker</b> or <b>Turner Out</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—Coiner of bad money. [From <span class="sc">bit</span>, an old canting term for money, + <span class="sc">faker</span>, one who makes, or does.] Also <span class="pageNum" id="pb207">[<a href="#pb207">207</a>]</span><span class="sc">bit-maker</span>.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Turner out</span> and <span class="sc">Faker</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit Faking</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—Manufacturing base coin; counterfeiting. [From <span class="sc">bit</span> + <span class="sc">fake</span> + <span class="sc">ing</span>.—<i>See</i> preceding.] <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Turner out</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Biting Up</b>, <i>subs.</i> (tailors’).—Grieving over a loss or bereavement. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit-Maker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A counterfeiter.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bit-faker</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Snowden</span>, <i>Mag. Assistant</i>, 3 ed., p. 447. Coiners—<span class="sc">bit-makers</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit-o’-Bull</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Beef. The French say <i lang="fr">un gobet</i>; formerly, a dainty morsel. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit of Blood</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A high-spirited horse; a thoroughbred. The derivation is obvious. For synonyms, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Prad</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress</i>, p. 10. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">’Mong the vehicles, too, which were many and various, </p> +<p class="line">From <i>natty barouche</i> down to <i>buggy precarious</i>, </p> +<p class="line">We twigg’d more than one <i>queerish</i> sort of <i>turn-out</i>, </p> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">C—n n—g</span> came in a <i>job</i>, and then canter’d about </p> +<p class="line">On a showy, but hot and unsound, <span class="sc">bit of blood</span>, </p> +<p class="line">(For a <i>leader</i> once meant, but cast off, as no good). </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1843. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Martin Chuzzlewit</i>, II., p. 156. Not that we slacken in our pace the while, not we: we rather put the +<span class="sc">bits of blood</span> upon their mettle. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit of Cavalry</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A horse. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act i., Sc. 6. <i>Tom.</i> You are now at Tattersal’s, Jerry, a very worthy fellow, who made his fortune by +a horse called Highflyer. <i>Jerry.</i> Hum! and if one may judge from the splendour and extent of his premises, he seems +to be no small highflyer himself. <i>Tom.</i> You are right, Jerry—I shall here buy a <span class="sc">bit of cavalry</span>—that <i>is a prad</i>, on your judgment. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit of Ebony</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A negro or negress. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Snowball</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit of Fat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. An unexpected pecuniary advantage in a transaction. +</p> +<p>2. (printers’.)—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Fat</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit of Jam.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Jam</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit of Leaf</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—Tobacco. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit of Muslin</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A young girl; generally applied only to prostitutes. Also <span class="sc">bit of stuff</span>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack-hack</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit of Mutton</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—A woman; generally, a prostitute is meant. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Laced mutton</span>, and for synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack-hack</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit of Sticks</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (sporting).—A corpse. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Dead meat</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit of Stiff</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A bank-note, or other paper money; the equivalent of money when not in +specie, <i>i.e.</i>, a draft or bill of exchange. +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <span class="sc">Lever</span>, <i>Dodd Family Abroad</i>, I., 313. I’m sorry that <span class="sc">bit of stiff</span>, meaning the bill, wasn’t for five thousand francs. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 234. He liked to have the party’s name written across a piece of paper with a +stamp attached, commonly called a <span class="sc">bit of stiff</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To do a bit of stiff</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To accept a bill. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb208">[<a href="#pb208">208</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit of Stuff</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—An overdressed man; a man with full confidence in his appearance and +abilities; a young woman; also called a <span class="sc">bit of muslin</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Jacob Faithful</i>, ch. xxiii. ‘One night he says to me, “Will, come up and I’ll show you a devilish +fine <span class="sc">piece of stuff</span>.” So I walks with him, and he takes me to a shop where they dealed in marine stores, +and we goes and finds your mother in the back parlour.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit On.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">On</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bitter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A glass of beer. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To do a bitter.</span>—To drink a glass of bitter. Originally, says Hotten, an Oxford term varied by <span class="sc">to do a beer</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Rev. E. Bradley</span> (‘Cuthbert Bede’), <i>Verdant Green</i>, 1st., III., ch. x. Mr. Verdant Green and Mr. Bouncer … turned into the coffee-room +of ‘The Mitre’ <span class="sc">to do bitters</span>, as Mr. Bouncer phrased the act of drinking bitter beer. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1882. <i>Comic Song</i>, ‘The West End Boys,’ verse 3. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Let fortune frown and friends betray, </p> +<p class="line">There’s a class of men that’s ever gay, </p> +<p class="line">Where some make troubles, they make joys, </p> +<p class="line">And are known by the title of the West End Boys. </p> +<p class="line">They commence their evening with cigars, </p> +<p class="line">And ‘How-d’ye-do, dear,’ at the bars, </p> +<p class="line">‘Another <span class="sc">bitter</span>, I really can’t go, </p> +<p class="line">There’s something about you that charms me so.’ </p> +<p class="line xd33e5086">Oh, don’t they like, etc. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bittock</b>, <i>subs.</i> (originally provincial; now common).—A distance of very undecided length. If a North +countryman be asked the distance to a place, he will most probably reply, ‘a mile +and a <span class="sc">bittock</span>.’ The latter may be considered any distance from one hundred yards to ten miles. +Also of time. [From <span class="sc">bit</span> + <span class="sc">ock</span>, a diminutive suffix.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1802. <span class="sc">J. Wilson</span> (‘Congleton’), <i>M.S. Let. to F. Boucher</i>. <span class="sc">Bittock</span>, a small Piece or small Bit; <i>Cheshire</i>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1816. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Old Mortality</i>, ch. x. ‘To Chamwood, madam? It’s unco late, and its sax miles an’ a <span class="sc">bittock</span> down the water.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Daily News</i>, April 15, p. 4, col. 7. Edinburgh University is three hundred years old, or rather, +three hundred years and a <span class="sc">bittock</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bit You.</b>—<span class="sc">A hair of the dog that bit you.</span>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Hair</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bivvy</b> or <b>Gatter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (provincial).—Beer; ‘shant of <span class="sc">bivvy</span>,’ a pot or quart of beer; probably from the <i>Italian</i>, <span class="sc">bevere</span>, <span class="sc">bere</span>. <i>Latin</i>, <span class="sc">bibere</span>. <i>English</i>, <span class="sc">beverage</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Biz</b>, <i>subs.</i> (originally American, now general).—A vulgar corruption for business, employment, +or occupation. ‘Good <span class="sc">biz</span>’ is profitable business. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Democracy</i>, ch. vii. A number of gentlemen were waiting for interviews with the President, and +among them was the whole Pennsylvania delegation, ready for <span class="sc">biz</span>, as Mr. Tom Lord remarked, with a wink. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Saturday Review</i>, Jan. 5, p. 13, col. 2. It is satisfactory to learn from the conductor of the circus +that <span class="sc">biz</span> is very fair. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Ally Sloper</i>, Aug. 17, p. 262, col. 1. We understand, though we cannot vouch for the truth of +the statement, that a New York lady, moving in the best society, while twisting some +worsted, hit upon the idea of applying a little system of her own to a larger field +than mere yarn, so she invented a machine for twisting wire rope, and has sold the +patent for £10,000 and a royalty upon future sales. Very good <span class="sc">biz</span>, this, eh! +</p> +<p class="main"><b>B. K. S.</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—An abbreviation of ‘barracks’; its usage is explained by quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Standard</i>, 10 Feb., p. 5, col. 2. <span class="sc">B. k. s.</span>, used by officers ‘in mufti,’ who do not wish to give their address. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb209">[<a href="#pb209">209</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Blab</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vulgar).—A revealer of that which should be kept secret; a betrayer; a babbler. +A depraved word; once in common use, but rarely employed now, except colloquially. +Grose [1785] includes it in his <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i> as forming part of the slang of his time. These remarks apply with more or less cogency +to <span class="sc">blab</span> when used, to signify loose talk or chatter, when employed as a verb, and to the +various derivative compounds and allied forms, such as ‘blabber,’ ‘blabbing,’ ‘blabbing-book,’ +etc.—a taint of vulgarism now rests upon them all. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Act</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A corrupted form of <span class="sc">black art</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blackamoor’s Teeth</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Cowrie shells—the currency of some savage tribes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1700. <span class="sc">W. King</span>, <i>Transactioneer</i>, p. 36. He has shells called <span class="sc">Blackmoore’s Teeth</span>, I suppose … from their Whiteness. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1719. <span class="sc">W. Wood</span>, <i>Surv. Trade</i>, p. 334. Known by the Name of Cowries amongst Merchants, or of <span class="sc">Blackamores’ Teeth</span> among other Persons. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-and-Tan</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vagrants’).—Porter or stout and ale, mixed in equal quantities. [From <span class="sc">black</span>, in allusion to the dark colour of porter and stout, + <span class="sc">and</span> + <span class="sc">tan</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, of the yellowish brown colour of ale.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-and-Tan Country</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (American).—The Southern States of North America. [From <span class="sc">black</span>, a sobriquet for a negro, + <span class="sc">and</span> + <span class="sc">tan</span>, a pun and an allusion to the slang verb ‘to tan,’ to thrash or beat + <span class="sc">country</span>; <i>i.e.</i>, the country where the negroes were tanned or beaten.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black and White</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (colloquial).—The black characters of print or writing on white paper. Therefore, +to put a thing down in <span class="sc">black and white</span> is to preserve it in writing or in print. <span class="sc">Black on white</span> is a variant. +</p> +<p class="cit">1596. <span class="sc">Jonson</span>, <i>Every Man in His Humour</i>, IV., ii. I have it here in <span class="sc">black and white</span>. [<i>Pulls out the warrant.</i>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1667. <span class="sc">Shirley</span>, <i>Love Tricks</i>, Act ii., Sc. 2. <i>Gov.</i> [with a letter] … Alas, poor gentleman! Little does he think what <span class="sc">black and white</span> is here. +</p> +<p class="cit">1712. <i>Spectator</i>, No. 286. My desire is, Sir, that you will be pleased to give us, in <span class="sc">black and white</span>, your opinion in the matter of dispute between us. +</p> +<p class="cit">1714. <i>Spectator</i>, No. 616. They had like to have dumfounded the justice; but his clerk came in to +his assistance, and took them all down in <span class="sc">black and white</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Carlyle</span>, <i>French Revolution</i>, pt. III., bk. II., ch. viii. His accounts lie all ready, correct in <span class="sc">black and white</span> to the uttermost farthing. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">Mrs. H. Wood</span>, <i>Johnny Ludlow</i>, 1 S., No. xii., p. 202. ‘A man can’t so much as put on a pair of clean stockings +in the morning, but its laid before high quarters in <span class="sc">black and white</span> at mid-day by the secret police!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Arse</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A kettle; a pot. [From <span class="sc">black</span>, from its colour, + <span class="sc">arse</span>, the posterior, hinder, or ‘bottom’ part.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Art</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. Picking of locks; burglary. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Crack</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1591. <span class="sc">Greene</span>, <i>Conny-Catch.</i>, wks., 1883, II., x., 72. I can set down the subtiltie of the <span class="sc">blacke art</span>, which is picking of lockes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1608. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Belman of Lond.</i>, wks., 1884–5, III., 137. This <span class="sc">blacke art</span> … is called in English, Picking of Lockes. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb210">[<a href="#pb210">210</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Black art</span>, the art of picking a lock. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> [The definition given is the same as that of Grose, as above-mentioned.] +</p> +<p>2. (undertakers’.)—The business of an undertaker. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Black work</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Sala</span>, <i>Seven Sons of Mammon</i>, i., p. 78. Rich men’s funerals in the first style of <span class="sc">black art</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-ball</b>, <i>verb</i> (common).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Pill</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blackballing</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—Stealing or pilfering. A sailor’s word. It originated amongst the employees +of the old Black Ball line of steamers between New York and Liverpool. The cruelty +and scandalous conduct of officers to men—and sailors to each other—were so proverbial, +that the line of vessels in question became known all over the world for the cruelty +of its officers, and the thieving propensities of its sailors. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blackbeetles</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The lower strata of society. [Apparently a term of contempt derived from the +cockroach, generally called a blackbeetle.] Obsolete. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act ii., Sc. 6. <i>Jerry</i>: Tom, here’s a group of <span class="sc">blackbeetles</span>—do you see those lovely mendicants? <i>Tom</i>: Beauty in rags—I do—Cupid imploring charity. I’ll relieve him, for I’ll be after +that match-girl directly. <i>Jerry</i>: And I’ll chant a few words to that beautiful ballad-singer. <i>Log</i>: And I’ll take pity on that charming beggar. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blackberry Swagger</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A person who hawks tapes, boot-laces, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blackbird</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—Formerly an African captive on board a slaver; now generally understood +as referring to a Polynesian indentured labourer, who, if not by name a slave, is +often one to all intents and purposes. [Obviously derived from the black or dark-brown +colour of these people.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>Chequered Career</i>, p. 180. The white men on board knew that if once the <span class="sc">blackbirds</span> burst the hatches … they would soon master the ship. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To capture negroes or Polynesians; to kidnap (<i>see subs.</i>). Hence the <i>verbal substantive</i> and <i>ppl. adj.</i> <span class="sc">blackbirding</span>, in the same sense. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Graphic</i>, April 21, p. 398, col. 1. The day is not far distant when, to avoid <span class="sc">blackbirding</span>, and the revengeful massacres which these kidnappers provoke, the whole of Oceania +will have to be placed under civilised control. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Academy</i>, 8 Sep., p. 158. [He] slays Bishop Patteson by way of reprisal for the atrocities +of some <span class="sc">blackbirding</span> crew. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>, 19 Aug. p. 2, col. 2. Years ago <span class="sc">blackbirding</span> scoundrels may have hailed from Fiji. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blackbird-Catching.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blackbird</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Birders</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—<i>See</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>All the Year Round</i>, 22 Sep., p. 355. <span class="sc">Blackbirders</span>, the kidnappers for labour purposes on the islands of the Pacific. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Box</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A lawyer. So given in Grose [1785]; <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum</i> [1811]; and in Duncombe’s <i>Sinks of London</i> [1848]. [From the black tin boxes in which clients’ papers are kept.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Boy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Black-coat</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb211">[<a href="#pb211">211</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Bracelets</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Handcuffs. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Darbies</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Jack Sheppard</i> [1889], p. 63. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">When the turnkey, next morning, stepped into his room, </p> +<p class="line">The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; </p> +<p class="line">The sheriff’s <span class="sc">black bracelets</span> lay strewn on the ground, </p> +<p class="line">But the lad that had worn ’em could nowhere be found. +</p> +<p class="line xd33e35160">Tol-de-rol! </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Black-Cattle</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. Clergymen; parsons. [From the prevailing hue of the garments worn by +the profession.] Sometimes used in the same way as <span class="sc">red-coats</span> for soldiers, <i>e.g.</i>, <span class="sc">black-coats</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); also <span class="sc">devil dodgers</span>, the latter of which, see for synonyms. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—Lice. These are also called <span class="sc">active citizens</span> and <span class="sc">chates</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Cattle Show</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A gathering of clergymen. [From <span class="sc">black-cattle</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">show</span>, in its slang sense of a party or meeting.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Coat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar.)—A parson. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Black-cattle</span> and <span class="sc">Devil-dodger</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1627. <span class="sc">R. Perrot</span>, <i>Jacob’s Vow</i>, 52. Let us take heed how these <span class="sc">black-coates</span> get the day of us. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">Eachard</span>, <i>Observations</i>, p. 176. Suppose we should bestow upon a poor low thinking <span class="sc">black-coat</span>, one of our best forms, such as follows; it is five to one he would commit some ecclesiastical +blunder or other, in setting his name too near. +</p> +<p class="cit">1818. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Heart of Midlothian</i>, i. You are the <span class="sc">black-coat’s</span> son of Knocktarlitie. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Emerson</span>, <i>Soc. and Solit.</i>, ix., p. 197. The <span class="sc">black-coats</span> are good company only for <span class="sc">black-coats</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Cuffs</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—The Fifty-eight Foot, from the regimental facings which have been black +since 1767. They have also been nicknamed <span class="sc">the Steel Backs</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Diamonds</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. Coals. [A simile in allusion to the colour, and also to the fact that +both coal and diamonds are carbon.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">T. Miller</span>, in <i>Gabarni in London</i>, p. 43. Were he even trusted with the favourite horse and gig to fetch a sack of +<span class="sc">black diamonds</span> from the wharf. +</p> +<p>2. Also formerly a rough but clever or good person; this sobriquet, however, has given +place to <span class="sc">rough diamond</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Dog</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. Applied, <i>circa</i> 1702–30, to a counterfeit shilling and other base silver coinage. In this connection +it may be pointed out that <i>black</i> had long previously been applied to base money. Ruding, in his <i>Annals of the Coinage</i> [London, 1817, vol. I., p. 405], having mentioned <i>black</i> money, appends this note—‘Qy. <i>Turonenses Nigri</i>? Copper money struck at Tours.’ [<i>See</i> Turney’s <i>infra</i>. Qy. corrupted from Tierney, name of maker.] It is introduced in his account of the +Statute of Money, passed at York, 1335, 9 cap., Edward III., which recites that all +manner of <i>black</i> money which had been commonly current in the king’s realm and obeisance should be +utterly excluded, so as not to be current in one month after proclamation, on pain +of forfeiture of the same. Later on, in 1339, a certain <i>black</i> money called ‘turneys’ was made by <span class="pageNum" id="pb212">[<a href="#pb212">212</a>]</span>certain persons in Ireland, who circulated it to the injury of the king’s sterling +money, and to his no little loss and prejudice. Proclamation had, therefore, been +ordered to be made to prohibit the circulation of it, on pain of forfeiture of money +and goods. But the king having been informed that great inconvenience had arisen from +this prohibition on account of the scarcity of sterling money, it was, therefore, +commanded that, provided it should be found on due inquiry more advantageous to the +public to allow the currency of the said <i>black</i> money, proclamation should be made to authorise it until a sufficient quantity of +other money was provided. +</p> +<p class="cit">1706. <span class="sc">Luttrell</span>, in Ashton’s <i>Reign Queen Anne</i>, II., p. 225. The Art of making <span class="sc">black dogs</span>, which are shillings, or other pieces of money made only of Pewter, double wash’d. +[<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1724. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Drapier’s Lett.</i>, wks., 1755, V., ii., 44. Butcher’s half-pence, <span class="sc">black-dogs</span>, and others the like. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—<i lang="la">Delirium tremens</i>; the horrors; ‘jim jams.’ <span class="sc">Black dog</span> is a frequent figurative expression dialectically for depression of spirits, and +melancholy. Among the ancients a black dog and its pups were considered an evil omen. +For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Gallon distemper</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Hughes</span>, <i>Tom Brown at Oxford</i>, ch. xxxiii. ‘Yes, sir,’ said the butler, nodding, ‘D.T., sir. After one of his rages +the <span class="sc">black dog</span> comes, and it’s hawful work; so I hope you’ll go, sir.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To blush like a black dog</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—Not to blush at all; to be shameless.—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Blush</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1634. <span class="sc">Withal</span>, <i>Dictionary</i>, p. 557 [ed. 1634]. <i>Faciem perfricuit.</i> He <span class="sc">blusheth like a black dogge</span>, hee hath a brazen face. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Doll.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Dolly shop</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Charles Dickens</span>, <i>Sketches by Boz</i>, p. 174. [Speaking of a marine-store shop]: imagine, in addition to this incongruous +mass, a <span class="sc">black doll</span> in a white frock, with two faces—one looking up the street, the other looking down, +swinging over the door. +</p> +<p class="cit">1838. <span class="sc">Douglas Jerrold</span>, <i>Men of Character</i>, II., p. 100. Five hundred articles, among which might be found knockers, scrapers, +barbers’ poles, <span class="sc">black dolls</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <i>Cornhill Magazine</i>, Nov., p. 609. The best price given for old rags—inquire at the sign of the <span class="sc">black doll</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Eye.</b> <span class="sc">To give a bottle a black eye</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To empty it. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Dead man</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Eyed Susan</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—Texan for a revolver. Among other slang equivalents for this weapon current +in the Lone Star State may be mentioned <span class="sc">meat in the pot</span>, <span class="sc">blue lightning</span>, <span class="sc">the peace-maker</span>, <span class="sc">mr. speaker</span>, <span class="sc">a one-eyed scribe</span>, <span class="sc">pill box</span> and <span class="sc">my unconverted friend</span>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Meat in the pot</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Fly</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A contemptuous name for a clergyman. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Devil-dodger</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> The greatest drawback on the farmer is the <span class="sc">black fly</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, the parson who takes tithe of the harvest. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blackfriars!</b> <i>intj.</i> (thieves’).—An exclamation of warning; look out! beware!—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Thieves</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blackguard</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A man coarse in speech, and offensive in manner; a scamp; a scoundrel; +a disreputable fellow. The term, as now used, is one of the utmost opprobrium, and +although a good <span class="pageNum" id="pb213">[<a href="#pb213">213</a>]</span>deal of uncertainty hangs about its history and derivation, it seems pretty clear +that a certain amount of odium has always been attached to the word. Between two of +its primary significations, however,—(1) a kitchen knave or scullion, and (2) a guard +of attendants, black in person, dress, or character, generally in reference to the +devil’s body-guard—and the modern usage, there is a somewhat marked line to be drawn. +The earliest mention is as follows:— +</p> +<p class="cit">1532. <i>MS. Churchwarden’s Accompts. St. Margaret’s, Westminster</i> (Receipts for burials). Item Receyvid for the lycens of iiij. torchis of the <span class="sc">blake garde</span> vjd. +</p> +<p>What this guard was is not definitely known. Some have suggested that it was a body +of soldiers; others that it was a band of torch bearers at funerals; while some incline +to the belief that it was comprised of street link-boys. +</p> +<p>Better supported by evidence are the senses first mentioned, in which <span class="sc">blackguard</span> signifies (1) a scullion, and (2) a member of the devil’s body-guard. But here too, +Murray points out that it would be difficult to assign priority. First, however, let +the quotations be given in sets:— +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Sense 1</span> = a scullion. +</p> +<p class="cit">1535. <span class="sc">Sir W. Fitzwilliams</span>, 17 Aug., in <i>Cal. State Papers</i>. Two of the ring-leaders had been some time of the <span class="sc">black guard</span> of the king’s kitchen. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1579. <span class="sc">Fulke</span>, <i>Refut. Kastel</i>, 779. They ought not, nor yet any of the scullerie or <span class="sc">blacke garde</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Sense 2</span> = Devil’s body-guard; also other attendants. +</p> +<p class="cit">1583. <span class="sc">Fulke</span>, <i>Defence</i>, x., 386. Pelagius, Celestins, and other like heretics of the devil’s body-guard, +[<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1609. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Lanthorne and Candlelight</i>, wks. [1884–5] III., 214. The Great Lord of Limbo did therefore commaund all his +<span class="sc">Blacke guard</span> that stood about him, to bestirre them. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>Comparing these one with the other, we are clearly face to face in one set of quotations +with a popular superstition—a belief of an age when witchcraft was prevalent, and +when hobgoblins and the like were assigned as <span class="sc">black guards</span> to his Satanic Majesty. Whether there was any connection in the popular mind between +the King’s scullions and the Devil’s body-guard, cannot now be definitely stated. +Still, it is probable; and this view is borne out by later references. It is curious +to note the concluding lines of Hudibras’ Address to Ralpho, which may perhaps explain +the process by which the term of <span class="sc">black guard</span> may have come to be applied to the lowest class of domestics in the royal kitchens +or other great establishments. Still, as stated, priority cannot be given to either; +moreover, the use of <span class="sc">black guard</span> in either sense may have been a mere play on words, whether of 1 on 2, or 2 on 1 +is equally uncertain. The quotation from Hudibras is as follows: +</p> +<p class="cit">1678. <span class="sc">Butler</span>, <i>Hudibras</i>, pt. III., canto 1, line 1403. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">I do believe thee, quoth the knight; </p> +<p class="line">Thus far I’m sure thou’rt in the right, </p> +<p class="line">And know what ’tis that troubles thee, </p> +<p class="line">Better than thou hast guess’d of me. </p> +<p class="line">Thou art some paltry, <span class="sc">blackguard</span> <i>sprite</i>, </p> +<p class="line">Condemn’d to drudg’ry in the night; </p> +<p class="line">Thou hast no work to do in th’ house, </p> +<p class="line">Nor half-penny to drop in shoes; </p> +<p class="line">Without the raising of which sum </p> +<p class="line">You dare not be so troublesome; </p> +<p class="line">To pinch the slatterns black and blue, </p> +<p class="line">For leaving you their work to do. </p> +<p class="line">This is your business, good Pug Robin, </p> +<p class="line">And your diversion, dull dry bobbing. </p> +</div> +<p><span class="pageNum" id="pb214">[<a href="#pb214">214</a>]</span></p> +<p class="first">So also the following:— +</p> +<p class="cit">1655. <span class="sc">Fuller</span>, <i>Church History</i> [1845], vol. V., p. 160. For who can otherwise conceive but such a prince-principal +of darkness must be proportionately attended with a <span class="sc">black guard</span> of monstrous opinions. +</p> +<p>The <span class="sc">Black Guard</span> of Satan, argues a writer in <i>Notes and Queries</i> [Sir J. Emmerson Tennent, <i>N. and Q.</i>, 1 S., vii., 78], was supposed, in the popular view, to perform the drudgery of the +kitchen and servants’ hall in the infernal household. +</p> +<p class="cit">1588–1628. <span class="sc">Hobbes</span>, <i>Microcosmus</i>, vol. II., p. 134. Since my lady’s decay I am degraded from a cook, and I fear the +devil himself will entertain me but for one of his <span class="sc">blackguards</span>, and he shall be sure to have his roast burnt. +</p> +<p>Hence came the popular superstition that these goblin scullions, on their visits to +the upper world confined themselves to the servants’ apartments of the houses which +they favoured with their presence, and which at night they swept and garnished; pinching +those of the maids in their sleep who, by their laziness, had imposed such toil on +their elfin assistants; but slipping money into the shoes of the more tidy and industrious +servants whose attention to their own duties before going to rest had spared the goblins +the task of performing their share of the drudgery. In allusion to this is Gifford’s +note on Ben Jonson’s plays [vol. II., p. 170],— +</p> +<p class="cit">In all great houses, but particularly in the Royal Residences, there were a number +of mean dirty dependents, whose office it was to attend the wool-yard, sculleries, +etc. Of these, the most forlorn wretches seem to have been selected to carry coals +to the kitchens, halls, etc. To this smutty regiment, who attended the progresses, +and rode in the carts with the pots and kettles, which, with every other article of +furniture, were then removed from palace to palace, the people, in derision, gave +the name of <span class="sc">black guards</span>; a term since become sufficiently familiar, and never properly explained. +</p> +<p>Many other references also go to prove the connection in the popular mind, so far +as usage is concerned, between the two significations. In all this, however, the peculiarly +contemptuous odium attached to the word in modern times is absent, and between the +old and the modern significations a sharp line may, as already stated, be drawn. +</p> +<p>The earliest reference to <span class="sc">blackguard</span> as applied to a vagabond or loafer occurs in 1683. Since that time the word seems +gradually to have become more and more depraved, until its present meaning of a low, +worthless fellow, one open to, and ready for any villainy has been reached. The following +quotations will well repay comparative study. +</p> +<p class="cit">1683. <i>MS.</i>, in Lord Steward’s Office, Windsor Castle [<i>N. and Q.</i>, 1 S., ix., p. 15]. 7 May, Whereas of late a sort of vicious, idle, and masterless +boys and rogues, commonly called the <span class="sc">blackguard</span>, with divers other lewd and loose fellowes, vagabonds, vagrants, and wandering men +and women, do usually haunt and follow the Court. +</p> +<p class="cit">1695. <span class="sc">Congreve</span>, <i>Love for Love</i>, Act iii., Sc. 10. Or if that won’t do, I’ll bring a Lawyer that shall out-lye the +Devil: and so I’ll try whether my <span class="sc">black-guard</span> or his shall get the better of the day. +</p> +<p class="cit">1744. Nov. 26, <span class="sc">Walpole</span>, <i>Lett. to Mann</i> (1833), II., 57. The whole stage filled with <span class="sc">blackguards</span>, armed with bludgeons and clubs. +</p> +<p class="cit">1780. <i>Parody on the Rosciad, etc.</i>, p. 13. Like him I’m a <span class="sc">blackguard</span> and sot. +</p> +<p class="cit">1788. <span class="sc">G. A. Stevens</span>, <i>Adv. of a Speculist</i>, i., 59. As <span class="sc">black-guards</span> at <span class="pageNum" id="pb215">[<a href="#pb215">215</a>]</span>Newmarket meeting bawl about the lists of horses. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">Mrs. H. Wood</span>, <i>Johnny Ludlow</i>, 1 S., No. iii., p. 37. ‘I must request you to be a little more careful in your language. +You have come amidst gentlemen here, not <span class="sc">blackguards</span>.’ +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i>—Of or pertaining to a blackguard; to the scum or refuse of society; vile; vicious. +</p> +<p class="cit">1760. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Sir L. Greaves</i>, vol. II., ch. ix. He is become a <span class="sc">blackguard</span> gaol-bird. +</p> +<p class="cit">1803. <span class="sc">C. K. Sharpe</span>, in <i>Correspondence</i> (1888), I., 178. His friends were ill-natured, and behaved like <span class="sc">blackguard</span> beasts. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To act like a ruffian; to use filthy, scurrilous language; to play the vagabond or +scoundrel. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Newcomes</i>, ch. xxix. ‘I have been called names, and <span class="sc">blackguarded</span> quite sufficiently for one sitting.’ +</p> +<p>So also with other derivatives and compounds—<span class="sc">blackguardism</span>, <span class="sc">blackguardize</span>, <span class="sc">blackguardly</span>, <span class="sc">blackguardy</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1781. <span class="sc">G. Parker</span>, <i>View of Society</i>, I., 124. The talent of common <span class="sc">blackguardism</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">C. Kingsley</span>, <i>Alton Locke</i>, ch. v. I was awakened by being shoved through the folding-doors of a gin-shop, into +a glare of light and hubbub of <span class="sc">blackguardism</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">H. Kingsley</span>, <i>Ravenshoe</i>, ch. xxvi. ‘I beg your pardon, sir, for saying that; I said it in a hurry. It was +<span class="sc">blackguardly</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">William Morris</span>, reported in <i>Illust. London News</i>, March 10, p. 243, col. 3. Almost all ordinary wares now made by man were shabbily +and pretentiously ugly.… Not even the pine-trees and gardens could make the rich men’s +houses at Bournemouth tolerable. They were simply <span class="sc">blackguardly</span>; and even as he spoke they were being built by the mile. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Hole</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Anglo-Indian).—Cheltenham, from the number of retired Anglo-Indians who live there. +<i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Asia Minor</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1878. <i>Notes and Queries</i>, 5 S., x., p. 234, col. 1. Gained for Cheltenham the … title of <span class="sc">The Black Hole</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Horse</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—A nickname of the Seventh Dragoon Guards, so called from the regimental +facings, black on scarlet. Occasionally the epithet is shortened into <span class="sc">The Blacks</span>. During the reign of George II., the corps was known as <span class="sc">The Virgin Mary’s Guard</span>, and is now often called <span class="sc">Strawboots</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black House</b>, <i>subs.</i> (trade).—A place of business where hours are long, and wages at starvation rates; +a sweating house. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, III., p. 234. I have mentioned that the <span class="sc">black houses</span> or linen-drapers at the west end of London, were principally supplied from the east +end. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Indies</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Newcastle-on-Tyne, from its wealth in coal. The term is now obsolete, but +it was in common use at the latter part of the eighteenth century. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Jack</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A large leathern jug for beer, holding two gallons. The term +was not peculiar to Winchester; in olden times <span class="sc">Jacks</span> were common everywhere. +</p> +<p class="cit">(?) <i>Simon the Cellarer.</i> But oh, oh, oh! his nose doth show, How oft the <span class="sc">Black Jack</span> to his lips doth go. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black job</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A funeral. Mr. H. J. Byron, in his annotated copy of the <i>Slang Dictionary</i> states ‘it was <span class="pageNum" id="pb216">[<a href="#pb216">216</a>]</span>the late Lord Portsmouth’s hobby to attend all the <span class="sc">black jobs</span> he could hear of.’ [From <span class="sc">black</span>, in reference to the sombre trappings of funerals + <span class="sc">job</span>].—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Black work</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <span class="sc">Yates</span>, <i>Land at Last</i>, I., p. 101. ‘What, a funeral mute?’ ‘Yes, Sir, <span class="sc">black-job</span> business,’ etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Joke</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The female <i>pudenda</i>.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Monosyllable</span> for synonyms. Said to have been the burden of an obscene song, <i>circa</i> 1811. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blackleg</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. A turf swindler; a rook; a welsher; also one who cheats at cards or +billiards. Origin unknown; although many speculations have been hazarded, none are +satisfactory.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Leg</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1771. <span class="sc">B. Parsons</span>, <i>Newmarket</i>, II., 163. The frequenters of the Turf, and numberless words of theirs are exotics +everywhere else; then how should we have been told of <span class="sc">blacklegs</span>, and of <i>town-tops … taken in … beat hollow</i>, etc. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1774. <span class="sc">Colman</span>, <i>Man of Business</i>, I., in wks. (1777) II., 133. Countesses and semptresses, lords, aldermen, <span class="sc">blacklegs</span>, and Oxonians. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">Coombe</span>, <i>Dr. Syntax, Picturesque</i>, ch. x. The crowd with their commission pleas’d, Rudely the trembling <span class="sc">black-leg</span> seiz’d, Who, to their justice forc’d to yield, Soon ran off dripping from the field. +</p> +<p class="cit">1830. <span class="sc">S. Warren</span>, <i>Diary of a Late Physician</i>, ch. xv. ‘Mr. T—— is pursuing quite disgraceful courses all night and day, squandering +away his money among sharpers and <span class="sc">blacklegs</span>.’ +</p> +<p>2. A workman who, when his fellows are on strike, is willing to go on working. An +opprobrious term. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Black-nob</span> and <span class="sc">Scab</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>, 29 Oct., p. 7. If the timber merchants persist in putting on <span class="sc">blacklegs</span>, a serious disturbance will ensue. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>3. Also by another transference of meaning applied to any one failing, or refusing +to join his fellows in combination for a given purpose. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>, Nov. 21, p. 5, col. 1. It was stated at the meeting that the master bakers were +much behind the journeymen in the matter of organisation, and the difficulty of maintaining +the price against unscrupulous bakers at ‘a living figure’ was emphasized. The question +of the preparation of a list of master baker ‘<span class="sc">blacklegs</span>’ was also touched upon. These men are selling bread at 4½d. the quartern, and at +even a lower rate. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (tailors’).—Amongst the fraternity of ‘snips,’ <span class="sc">to blackleg</span> is used as synonymous with ‘to boycott’—<i>i.e.</i>, to make things so uncomfortable for a man that he is compelled to leave his work +or the town. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To blackleg it</span>, <i>phr.</i> (trades’).—Amongst trades’ union men to return to work before the causes of a strike +have been removed, or settled to the satisfaction of the leaders. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Baltimore Herald</i>, May 6. Early this morning the mountain paths leading to the William Pen colliery +were lined with men, dinner in hand, determined to go to work. Some were non-union +miners, while the remainder were Knights of Labor who had determined <span class="sc">to blackleg it</span>, regardless of the jeers and threats of their companions. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Leggism</b>, <b>Black-Leggery</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Cheating; swindling; the arts and practices of a <span class="sc">blackleg</span> (<i>q.v.</i>—sense 1). +</p> +<p class="cit">1832. <span class="sc">Maginn</span>, in <i>Blackwood’s Mag.</i>, XXXII., 427. From following any profession save the Army, the Navy, Black-apronry +and <span class="sc">Black-leggery</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Man</b> or <b>Black Gentleman</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The devil. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Skipper</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1606. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, in <i>Newes from Hell</i>, in wks. (Grosart) II., 113. [Old Nick called the <span class="sc">Black Gentleman</span>.] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb217">[<a href="#pb217">217</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">G. Meredith</span>, <i>Evan Harrington</i>, ch. iii., p. 23 (1885). ‘Rich as Crœsus, and as wicked as the <span class="sc">black man</span> below! as dear papa used to say.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blackmans.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Darkmans</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Maria</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A prison van or omnibus, used for the conveyance of prisoners. The origin +of the phrase is unknown, but <span class="sc">black</span> is obviously from the dark and sombre colour of <span class="sc">Her Majesty’s Carriage</span> as it is sometimes jocularly called. This view is also supported by the fact that +a variant is <span class="sc">Sable Maria</span> (<i>see</i> quot.). Julian Marshall, in <i>Notes and Queries</i> [6 S., vii., p. 355], suggests that the term <span class="sc">Maria</span> may be allied to ‘Marinated,’ transported to some foreign plantation, and ‘married,’ +persons chained or handcuffed together, in order to be conveyed to gaol [Grose has +this, as also has the <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum</i>]. In <i>marinated</i> evident allusion is made to the compulsory voyage; in <i>married</i> to the forced wedlock of convictism. <span class="sc">Black Maria</span> may, therefore, possibly be a corruption of one or the other, or both terms. A writer +on slang states that the term is said to have originated in Philadelphia in 1838, +but gives no evidence in support of the statement. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. ii., p. 61. On alighting from the ‘<span class="sc">Sable Maria</span>’ we were ushered through a door into a long white-washed passage, with cells on one +side. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">G. R. Sims</span>, <i>Three Brass Balls</i>, pledge xvii. It is the time when <span class="sc">Black Maria</span>, the prison van, stands waiting at the door, and the signal is given that the prisoners +are coming out. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Answers</i>, Feb. 9. There are two kinds of <span class="sc">Black Marias</span>. One is called the night van and the other the day. The passengers politely term +them ‘mails.’ The day van holds eighteen passengers not including the driver and warder, +and the night van a dozen. The vans are divided into two halves, and on each side +are small compartments about two feet square with a seat and door, which is carefully +locked. +</p> +<p>Amongst <span class="sc">French Synonyms</span> may be mentioned:—<i lang="fr">Le courrier du Palais</i> (a thieves’ term: <i lang="fr">courrier</i>, a post or mail + <i lang="fr">Palais</i>, an abbreviated form of <i lang="fr">Palais de Justice</i>, a police court or sessions house); <i lang="fr">un panier à salade</i> (familiar: ‘a salad basket’); <i lang="fr">le courrier de la prefecture</i> (thieves’: <i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="fr">courrier du Palais</i>. <i lang="fr">Préfecture</i> = the office of a chief magistrate); <i lang="fr">l’omnibus pègres</i> (in slang <i lang="fr">un pègre</i> signifies ‘a thief’); <i lang="fr">un guimbard</i> (thieves’: <i lang="fr">une guimbarde</i> is properly ‘a long cart’); <i lang="fr">le service du château</i> (roughs’ and thieves’: ‘the prison service’; <i lang="fr">château</i> = prison). +</p> +<p>For other synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Her Majesty’s Carriage</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Monday</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A schoolboys’ term for the Monday on which, after holidays, school re-opens. +Obviously called <i>black</i>, from the reluctance with which young hopefuls turn their backs upon the sweets of +home and play. <span class="sc">Black Friday</span> was used of the day on which Overend, Gurney & Co., suspended payment—10 May, 1886. +<i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blue Monday</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1750. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, bk. VIII., ch. xi. She now hated my sight, and made home so disagreeable to me, +that what is called by school-boys <span class="sc">black Monday</span> was to me the whitest in the whole year. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">F. Anstey</span>, <i>Vice Versâ</i>, ch. i. There comes a time when the days are grudgingly counted to a <span class="sc">blacker Monday</span> than ever makes a schoolboy’s heart quake within him. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb218">[<a href="#pb218">218</a>]</span></p> +<p>2. (popular.)—The Monday on which the death penalty is carried out; these events are +generally arranged to fall on the day in question. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Mummer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—An epithet applied to one unwashed and unshorn. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Nob</b>, <i>subs.</i> (trades’ union).—A non-unionist; one who, while his fellows are on strike, persists +in working at his trade; a <span class="sc">blackleg</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). [Apparently a humorous variant of <span class="sc">blackleg</span>. From <span class="sc">black</span> = wicked, atrocious, + <span class="sc">nob</span>, the head, in place of <i>leg</i> in <span class="sc">blackleg</span>.] They are also called <span class="sc">knobsticks</span> and <span class="sc">scabs</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Ointment</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—A term for uncooked meat. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Pot</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A toper; a tippler. [Beer mugs were called <span class="sc">black-pots</span>; also <span class="sc">black-jacks</span>, hence, probably, a transference of the name from the utensil to the drinker.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1594. <span class="sc">Greene</span>, <i>Fr. Bacon</i>, v., 122. I’ll be Prince of Wales over all the <span class="sc">black-pots</span> in Oxford. +</p> +<p class="cit">1636. <span class="sc">Heywood</span>, <i>Love’s Mistr.</i>, II. Iugg, what’s shee but sister to a <span class="sc">black-pot</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1818. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Heart of Midlothian</i>, xxxii. A whole whiskin, or <span class="sc">black-pot</span> of sufficient double ale. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Psalm.</b> <span class="sc">To sing the black psalm</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To cry; a saying used to children.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blacks.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Black horse</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Sal</b> or <b>Suke</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A kettle.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Sukey</span> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Saturday</b>, <i>subs.</i> (workmen’s).—A Saturday on which an artisan or mechanic has no money to take, having +anticipated it by advances. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Black Monday</span> and <span class="sc">Blue Monday</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Sheep</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A mildly opprobrious term for a scapegrace; a ‘bad lot’; ‘<i lang="fr">un mauvais sujet</i>.’ It is also applied like <span class="sc">blackleg</span> and <span class="sc">black-nob</span> to workmen who persist in working when their comrades are on strike. The word is +hardly slang now. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">Le Fanu</span>, <i>Uncle Silas</i>, ch. xxvi. ‘Your Uncle Silas had injured himself before that in the opinion of the +people of his county. He was a <span class="sc">black sheep</span>, in fact. Very bad stories were told and believed of him.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">M. Collins</span>, <i>Frances</i>, ch. xxxvii. ‘In all cities there are <span class="sc">black sheep</span>, but in a city like London, sound finance is the rule, I am sure.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Besant and Rice</span>, <i>Golden Butterfly</i>, ch. xxviii. ‘Many companies, perfectly sound in principle, may be ruined by a sudden +decrease in the price of shares; a panic sets in, and in a few hours the shareholders +may lose all. And if you bring this about by selling without concert with the other +favoured allottees, you’ll be called a <span class="sc">black sheep</span>.<span>’</span> +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (Winchester College).—When a fellow in ‘Junior Part’ got above (or ‘jockeyed’) a +fellow in ‘Middle Part.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blacksmith’s Daughter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A key. Formerly the key with which the doors of sponging houses were unlocked. +Also <span class="sc">Locksmith’s daughter</span>, which <i>see</i> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">C. Dickens</span>, <i>Tale of Two Cities</i>. Place it under the care of the <span class="sc">blacksmith’s daughter</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Reader</i> [quoted in <i>N. and Q.</i>, 5 S., ix., 263]. <span class="sc">Blacksmith’s daughter</span>. <span class="pageNum" id="pb219">[<a href="#pb219">219</a>]</span>A key. I have never met with this word in print, but have heard it frequently in conversation. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Spice Racket</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The practice of robbing chimney sweepers of their tools, bag, and soot.—<i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black Spy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A cant name for the devil. The French equivalent is <i lang="fr">le dache</i>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Skipper</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Strap</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. Thick, sweet port. A contemptuous term, in allusion to its dark colour, +<span class="sc">strap</span> being an old name for wine.—(<i>See</i> quot.). +</p> +<p class="cit">1608. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Belman of London</i>, in wks. (Grosart) III., 131. Sometimes likewise this <i>Card-cheating</i>, goes not vnder the name of <i>Bernard’s Lawe</i>, but is called <i>Batt fowling</i>, and then ye <i>Setter</i> is the <i>Beater</i>, the foole that is caught in the net, the bird, the <i>Tauerne</i> to which they repaire to worke the <i>Feate</i>, is the <i>Bush</i>; the wine the <span class="sc">Strap</span>, and the cardes the <i>Limetwigs</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, p. 3. <i>Tom</i> (<i>taking his seat</i>): Gentlemen, I beg pardon for being scarce so long; but having to start early, I +thought it best to see that the <i>toggery</i> was all right and <i>fly</i>—I never shirk the <span class="sc">black strap</span> intentionally, you know. <i>Jerry</i>: Don’t mention it, my dear Tom. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Wh. Melville</span>, <i>Digby Grand</i>, ch. x. The orator gets deeper into his subject, till an extremely abrupt conclusion +… empties every bumper of ‘<span class="sc">black strap</span>’ like a shot. +</p> +<p>2. (American.)—Properly speaking, gin mixed with molasses, but frequently applied +to a compound of any alcoholic liquor with molasses. Beverages of this description +were at one time the commonest of drinks among agricultural labourers. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">Pinkerton</span>, <i>Molly Maguires and Detectives</i>, p. 84. From the great iron kettle a savory incense arose; it came from an admixture +of high-wines and common molasses, in about the proportion of one gallon of the latter +to four of the spirit.… The seething <span class="sc">blackstrap</span> was pronounced ready for use. It rapidly disappeared, and, as it diminished and was +imbibed, the fun and hilarity proportionately increased. +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—A task of labour imposed on soldiers at Gibraltar as a punishment for small +offences.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black’s Your Eye.</b> <span class="sc">To say black’s your eye</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To accuse; to find fault with. The phrase was varied by <span class="sc">black’s your eyebrow, nail</span>, etc. A more modern rendering is <span class="sc">black is the white of your eye</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1528. Roy, Sat. (1845). They eate their belies full.… And none sayth <span class="sc">blacke is his eye</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1583. <span class="sc">Stubbs</span>, <i>Anatomic of Abuses</i>, p. 65. And then no man say <span class="sc">blacke is their eye</span>, but all is well, and they as good Christians, as those that suffer them unpunished. +</p> +<p class="cit">1647. <span class="sc">Beaumont and Fletcher</span>, <i>Love’s Cure</i>, iii., 1. I can say <span class="sc">black’s your eye</span>, though it be grey; I have conniv’d at this your friend, and you. +</p> +<p class="cit">1750. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, IX., iv. The house is well known to be a house of as good reputation as any on the +road, and, though I say it, is frequented by gentry of the best quality, both Irish +and English. I defy anybody, to say <span class="sc">black is my eye</span>, for that matter. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Black-Teapot</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A negro footman. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blackwork</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Undertaking. The waiters met with at public dinners are often employed +during the day as mutes, etc. Omnibus and cab drivers regard <span class="sc">blackwork</span> as <i lang="fr">un dernier ressort</i>.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Black-job</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">Sala</span>, <i>Gaslight and Daylight</i>, ch. xxvi. A florid man who officiates as a waiter at the London Tavern o’nights, +and sometimes takes a spell in the <span class="sc">black work</span>, or undertaking line of business. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb220">[<a href="#pb220">220</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bladder of Lard</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A bald-headed person. [From the supposed similarity of the smooth, hairless +cranium to a bag or bladder of lard.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Athenæum</i>, July 31, p. 142. An elderly Jew money-lender, whom she afterwards describes to her +admiring friends as a <span class="sc">bladder of lard</span>, a graceful reference to his baldness and tendency to stoutness. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blade</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common.)—A roysterer; a gallant; a sharp, keen fellow; a free and easy, good fellow. +[Probably from <span class="sc">blade</span>, a sword, a soldier. There seems no warrant for supposing the word connected with +the Dutch <i lang="nl">bloed</i>, or with the term ‘blood,’ a dandy, in use in the time of the Georges in a somewhat +similar sense; indeed, the following quotations show a much older usage. In French +a ‘sly <span class="sc">blade</span>’ is called <i lang="fr">un renaré</i>.<span class="corr" id="xd33e36741" title="Not in source">]</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1595. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>, ii., 4. The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting fantasticoes; these new tuners +of accents! <i>By Jesu, a very good</i> <span class="sc">blade</span>!—<i>a very tall man</i>! +</p> +<p class="cit">1632. <span class="sc">Chapman and Shirley</span>, <i>The Ball</i>, Act iv. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">This came first o’ keeping company with the <span class="sc">blades</span>, </p> +<p class="line">From whom I learnt to roar and run away. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1636. <span class="sc">Davenant</span>, <i>The Wits</i>, Act v. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line xd33e35160">The old <span class="sc">blade</span> </p> +<p class="line">Skulks there like a tame filcher, as he had </p> +<p class="line">New stolen ’bove eggs from market-women. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1637. <span class="sc">Fletcher</span>, <i>Elder Brother</i>, I., ii. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line xd33e35160">If he be that old </p> +<p class="line">Rough testy <span class="sc">blade</span> he always used to be. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1664. <span class="sc">Pepys</span>, <i>Diary</i>, Jan. 4. For suffering his man (a spruce <span class="sc">blade</span>) to be so saucy as to strike a ball while his master was playing in the Mall. +</p> +<p class="cit">1667. <span class="sc">Pepys</span>, <i>Diary</i>, June 3. With his hat cocked like a fool behind, as the present fashion among the +<span class="sc">blades</span> is. +</p> +<p class="cit">1698. <span class="sc">Farquhar</span>, <i>Love and a Bottle</i>, Act iv., Sc. 2. These London <span class="sc">blades</span> are all stark mad; I met one about two hours ago, that had forgot his name, and this +fellow would persuade me now, that I had forgot mine. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Blade</span> (s.) … is sometimes used to signify a beau, spark, or hectoring fellow. +</p> +<p class="cit">1773. <span class="sc">O. Goldsmith</span>, <i>She Stoops to Conquer</i>, Act i., Sc. 2. ‘A troublesome old <span class="sc">blade</span>, to be sure; but a keeps as good wines and beds as any in the whole country.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Great Expectations</i>, ch. xxiv., p. 115. ‘He forged wills, this <span class="sc">blade</span> did, if he didn’t also put the supposed testators to sleep too.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘Happy Thoughts,’ st. 4. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">My Uncle Dowle has lots of money; </p> +<p class="line">He’s a very knowing looking <span class="sc">blade</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Blamed</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (popular).—An expletive used to emphasize a statement. It partakes of the nature +of an oath, being often used instead of ‘doomed’ or ‘damned.’ In America the expression +is more of a colloquialism than it is in England.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span> (‘Sam Slick’), <i>The Clockmaker</i>, 3 S., ch. vi. Yes, John Bull is a <span class="sc">blamed</span> blockhead. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">S. Clemens</span>, <i>Roughing It</i>, ch. ix. The keeper had fired four times at an Indian, but he said with an injured +air, that the Indian had ‘skipped’ around so’s to spile everything—and ammunition’s +<span class="sc">blamed</span> skurse too. +</p> +<p class="cit">1873. <span class="sc">Carleton</span>, <i>Farm Ballads</i>, p. 18. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">And so that pourin’ dissentions in our cup; </p> +<p class="line">And so that <span class="sc">blamed</span> cow-critter was always coming up. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1888. <i>Detroit Free Press</i>, Oct. 6. ‘Did you see any Quakers in Philadelphia?’ was asked of a Detroiter who +lately returned from that city. ‘Only one that I was sure of.’ ‘Did he “thee” and +“thou” you?’ ‘He did. He got down off his hack and said: “If thee don’t pay me 2 dols. +I’ll knock thy <span class="sc">blamed</span> head off,” and I paid, although I knew the regular fare was twelve shillings. You +don’t want <span class="pageNum" id="pb221">[<a href="#pb221">221</a>]</span>to fool with those Quakers any, and don’t you forget it.<span>’</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Portland Transcript</i>, May 9. ‘Why do you object to your daughter marrying?’ ‘Wouldn’t object ef she wuster +marry the right sorter man.’ ‘Isn’t Tom the right sort of man?’ ‘Not by a <span class="sc">blamed</span> sight.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blame it!</b> <i>intj.</i> (common).—A round-about oath. Equivalent to ‘Damn it!’ [A transferred sense of <span class="sc">blame</span>.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blamenation!</b> <i>intj.</i> (common).—Damnation!—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blank</b>, <b>Blanked</b>, <b>Blankety</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Euphemistic oaths, the derivation of which is clearly an outcome of the +practice of representing an oath, for decency’s sake in printing, by a dash or blank +space; <i>e.g.</i>, d——d. The terms are used in America in many combinations (<i>see</i> quots.). <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">C. Dickens</span>, Farce for the Championship, in <i>All the Year Round</i>. Enter a closely shaven, bullet-headed fellow in an ecstasy of excitement at having +just seen Cuss, and at the exquisite ‘fitness’ of that worthy. ‘So help me <span class="sc">blank, blank</span>!’ he cries delightedly, ‘if he ain’t a <span class="sc">blank</span> picter with the weins in his face down ’ere and ’ere, a showin’ out just if a <span class="sc">blank</span> hartist ’ad painted him. Tell yer he’s beautiful, fine as a <span class="sc">blank</span> greyhound, with a <span class="sc">blank</span> heavy air with him that looks <span class="sc">blank</span> like winnin’. Take yer two quid to one, guv’nor,’ adds the speaker, suddenly picking +out a stout purple-faced farmer in the group of eager listeners. +</p> +<p class="cit">1873. <span class="sc">C. Reade</span>, <i>Simpleton</i>, xxiii. <span class="sc">Blank</span> him! that is just like him; the uneasy fool! [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1878. <span class="sc">Mrs. Edwardes</span>, <i>Jet</i><span id="xd33e37025">,</span> iii., 272. ‘——the colonel of the regiment!’ exclaims Mark.… ‘<span class="sc">Blank</span> the colonel of the regiment!’ With slow, unmistakable gusto she lingers over the +monosyllable ‘<span class="sc">blank</span>.’ [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">Bret Harte</span>, <i>Gabriel Conroy</i>, in <i>Hallberger’s Illustrated Magazine</i>, vol. I., p. 378. Because you’re religious, <span class="sc">blank</span> you, do you expect me to starve? Go and order supper first! Stop! Where in <span class="sc">blank</span> are you going? Here you’ve been and gone three hours on an errand for me, and blame +me if you ain’t runnin’ off without a word about it. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Troy Daily Times</i>, Feb. 3. The captain looked anxious, and an irate fellow-passenger, who had not ceased +swearing since we left Tuxpan, declared by all that is sacred and profane that he +had known vessels to be hindered thirty days; yes, even three months, by that <span class="sc">blankety blankety</span> bar! +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Owosso</i> (Mich.) <i>Press</i>, April. ‘Doctor, I’m a dead man!’ ‘Not right now?’ said I, as I kicked his dog out. +‘Just as good as dead,’ said he, ‘or you wouldn’t kick that dog in that way with safety. +Not by a <span class="sc">blankety blank blank</span> sight.’ ‘Needn’t waste so much profanity, Mr. Starkhill,’ said I. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blanket.</b> <span class="sc">Lawful blanket</span>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A wife. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Dutch</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blanket Fair</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—Bed. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bedfordshire, Sheet Alley</span>, and <span class="sc">Land of Nod</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blanket Hornpipe</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Sexual commerce. The allusion is obvious. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Basket making</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blarmed</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (common).—A euphemism for <span class="sc">blessed</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); ‘damned’; ‘<span class="sc">blowed</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>); or <span class="sc">blamed</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), of the last of which it is probably a corruption.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1867. <i>No Church</i>, I., 104. To be in a <span class="sc">blarmed</span> hurry. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">John Forster</span>, <i>Life of Dickens</i>, ch. xxxi. (III., p. 191). He saw a strange sensation among the angry travellers +whom he had detained so long; heard a voice exclaim, ‘I am <span class="sc">blarmed</span> if it ain’t Dickens!’ and stood in the centre of a group of <i>Five Americans</i>! +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blarm Me!</b> <i>intj.</i> (common).—A euphemistic oath.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blarmed</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb222">[<a href="#pb222">222</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Blarney</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial).—Blandishment; soft speech, or ‘sawder’; gross flattery; ‘gammon.’ [From +Castle Blarney in Ireland, in the wall of which, difficult of access, is placed a +stone. Whoever is able to kiss this is said thereafter to be able to persuade to anything. +<span class="sc">Blarney</span> is from <i>bladh-ey</i>, flowery island, and this may have some connection with the curious tradition. On +the other hand, according to Brewer, Cormack Macarthy held the Castle of Blarney in +1602, and concluded an armistice with Carew, the lord president, on condition of surrendering +the fort to the English garrison. Day after day his lordship looked for the fulfilment +of the terms, but received nothing except protocols and soft speeches, till he became +the laughing-stock of Elizabeth’s ministers, and the dupe of the lord of Blarney.<span class="corr" id="xd33e37176" title="Not in source">]</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. He has licked the <span class="sc">blarney</span> stone; he deals in the wonderful, or tips us the traveller. +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Lever</span>, <i>Harry Lorrequer</i>, ch. xix. They were as cunning as foxes and could tell <span class="sc">blarney</span> from good sense. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1876. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘A nice young thing.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Such a nice young thing, such a sweet young thing, </p> +<p class="line">Her name was Kate Carney, she came from Killarney, </p> +<p class="line">So full of her <span class="sc">blarney</span>, but fond of her Barney, </p> +<p class="line">Such a fair young thing, a rare young thing, </p> +<p class="line">And just for a lark she had dyed her hair dark, </p> +<p class="line">And they called her the Colleen Dhu. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1884. <span class="sc">Ruskin</span>, in <i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>, 17 Nov., p. 11, col. 2. It was bombastic English <span class="sc">blarney</span>—not Irish. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>The French have <i lang="fr">baliverne</i> and <i lang="fr">pelotage</i> with the same meaning. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—1. To wheedle; to coax; to flatter grossly. +</p> +<p>2. (American thieves’.)—Besides the English slang signification of ‘to wheedle,’ it +also bears the secondary meaning, among the low and criminal classes of America, of +‘to pick locks.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blart Out</b>, <i>verb</i> (American, ? nonce word).—A corruption of ‘blurt out’; to utter abruptly. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span> (‘Sam Slick’), <i>The Clockmaker</i>, pref., p. v. It warn’t the part of a gentleman for to go and pump me arter that +fashion, and then go right off and <span class="sc">blart it out</span> in print. <i>Ibid</i>, ch. viii. And there are others again who <span class="sc">blart right out</span> whatever comes uppermost. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blasé</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Used up; exhausted with enjoyment; satiated. [From French <i lang="fr">blaser</i>, of unknown derivation.] Its extended colloquial use in England is explained in second +quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1823. <span class="sc">Byron</span>, <i>Don Juan</i>, ch. xii., st. 81. A little <span class="sc">blasé</span>—’tis not to be wondered At, that his heart had got a tougher rind, And though not +vainer from his past success, No doubt his sensibilities were less. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">G. A. Sala</span>, in <i>Illustrated London News</i>, March 10, p. 235, col. 3. There should be a chronology of slang. It is about forty +years ago, I think, that the great popularity of a French farce called ‘L’Homme <span class="sc">Blasé</span>’ brought the word into colloquial use in England; indeed the first translation of +the French piece (at the Princess’s, Wright, the low comedian, playing the hero,) +was called <span class="sc">Blasé</span>, with some sub-title that I forget. Subsequently another translation was produced, +Charles Mathews playing the principal character. As a title for this version, we borrowed +a slang term from the Americans, and ‘L’Homme <span class="sc">Blasé</span>’ became ‘Used Up’! +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blast</b>, <i>verb</i> (low).—To curse; to damn. An expression of reprobation and hatred. Used in <span class="pageNum" id="pb223">[<a href="#pb223">223</a>]</span>such combinations as <span class="sc">Blast me!</span> <span class="sc">Blast you!</span> <span class="sc">Blast your eyes!</span> etc.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1654. <span class="sc">Chapman</span>, <i>Revenge for Honour</i>, V., ii. And thus I kiss’d my last breath. <span class="sc">Blast you all!</span> <i>Ta.</i> Damn’d desperate villain! +</p> +<p class="cit">1752. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Amelia</i>, bk. X., ch. v. ‘I don’t know what you mean by ominous,’ cries the colonel; ‘but, +<span class="sc">blast my reputation</span>, if I had received such a letter, if I would not have searched the world to have +found the writer.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1759. <span class="sc">Goldsmith</span>, <i>Cit. of the World</i>, lett., 105. ‘<span class="sc">Blast me!</span>’ cries Tibbs, ‘if that be all, there is no need of paying for that.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1825. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>St. Ronan’s Well</i>, ch. viii. ‘Hands, Captain MacTurk!’ exclaimed Sir Bingo, in some confusion; ‘no, +<span class="sc">blast him</span>—not so bad as that neither.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blasted</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (low).—Execrable; confounded; often substituted for ‘damned,’ ‘bloody,’ it being +thought a milder form. Grose has <span class="sc">blasted fellow</span> for an abandoned rogue, and <span class="sc">blasted brimstone</span> for a prostitute. [From <span class="sc">blast</span>, <i>q.v.</i>]—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1682. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>Medal</i>, 260. What curses on thy <span class="sc">blasted</span> Name will fall. +</p> +<p class="cit">1750. <span class="sc">Chesterfield</span>, <i>Letters</i>, 8 Jan. (1870), 169. Colonel Chartres … who was, I believe, the most notorious <span class="sc">blasted</span> rascal in the world. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">Pusey</span>, <i>Lent. Sermons</i>, 79. Balaam after the success of his <span class="sc">blasted</span> counsel. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Good Words</i>, Nov., p. 767, col. 1. Jim Black states that the <span class="sc">blasted</span> railway has done away with those journeys. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blatantation</b>, <i>subs.</i> (? nonce word).—Noisy effusion; swagger. [From <span class="sc">blatant</span>, noisy, offensively clamorous, + <span class="sc">ation</span>.] <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blatancy</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1833. <i>Graphic</i>, Feb. 24, p. 199, col. 3. On the ground betting men are conspicuous with their books, +<span class="sc">blatantations</span>, blackguardism, and swell clothes. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blater</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A calf. [Probably a corruption of ‘bleater,’ from its cry.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1714. <i>Memoirs of John Hall</i> (4 ed.), p. 11 [list of cant words in]. <span class="sc">Blater</span>, a calf. +</p> +<p class="cit">1827. <span class="sc">Lytton</span>, <i>Pelham</i>, ch. lxxxii. Don’t be glim-flashy; why you’d cry beef on a <span class="sc">blater</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blather</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—Noisy talk; voluble nonsense. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blether</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">E. Yates</span>, <i>Broken to Harness</i>, ch. xxix., p. 309 (1873). ‘There’s a letter there from Sir Mordaunt, askin’ for +more time, and promisin’ all sorts of things; but I’m sick of him and his <span class="sc">blather</span>.’ +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To talk volubly; noisily; nonsensically.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blether</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">W. C. Russell</span>, <i>Jack’s Courtship</i>, ch. xxiv. Mrs. O’Brien was <span class="sc">blathering</span> about the pedigree of the O’Briens and the O’Shandrydans to Mrs. Joyce. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blatherskite</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. Boastful disputatious swagger. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bletherskite</span>. +</p> +<p>2. A swaggerer; boaster; one who talks volubly and nonsensically. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bletherskite</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>New York Herald</i>, July 29. Every <span class="sc">blatherskite</span> republican is filled to the brim and spouting high protection, while the democrats +are not prepared to meet them for want of documents. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Chicago Watchman.</i> Dr. Brookes, of St. Louis, must be a nice man to live with. He refers to Dr. R. W. +Dale and Dr. Parker as ‘blatant <span class="sc">blatherskites</span>,’ and evidently regards Professor Drummond as beyond reformation. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blayney’s Bloodhounds</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—The Eighty-ninth Foot. They obtained this nickname during the Irish Rebellion +in 1798. [<span class="sc">Blayney</span>, from their Colonel’s name + <span class="sc">Bloodhounds</span> from their skill in tracking Irish rebels.] They also earned for themselves the sobriquet +of <span class="sc">The <span class="pageNum" id="pb224">[<a href="#pb224">224</a>]</span>Rollickers</span>, in allusion to the ‘jolly doggish’ bearing of the corps. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blaze</b>, <i>subs.</i> and <i>verb</i> (common).—In some of the usages of this word, the precincts of slang are narrowly +touched, even if the boundary line is not crossed; as <i>e.g.</i>, when a man is said to <span class="sc">blaze</span> his way through the labyrinths of the metropolis. The original meaning is well known. +The early settlers in traversing the vast forests which abounded on the American continent, +found it very necessary to mark their route. This they did by the simple expedient +of <span class="sc">blazing</span> the trees at convenient distances. <span class="sc">Blazing</span> consists merely in chopping a piece of the bark off each tree selected in the desired +line of march. The mark itself is called a <span class="sc">blaze</span>. In addition to this, <span class="sc">blazing</span> was also adopted as an indication that the land within the limits of the trees thus +marked had been appropriated by a settler—a rude and informal, but, in early days, +a thoroughly well recognised method of securing a title to the land. Some writers +affect to derive the word from the old French <i lang="fr">blazon</i>, the armorial bearing of the Normans, and quote the use of ‘blazen,’ by Shakspeare, +in a sense not altogether dissimilar to the meaning conveyed by <span class="sc">blazing</span>, as proof to this effect. +</p> +<p>It is employed generally in America and all English-speaking colonies. The following +quotations will exemplify its use both in the original and more figurative senses.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blazes</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1737. <span class="sc">Wesley</span>, wks. (1872) I., 68. We then found another <span class="sc">blaze</span> and pursued it. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Bret Harte</span>, <i>In the Carquinez Woods</i>, ch. viii. ‘I made a blaze hereabouts to show where to leave the trail. There it +is,’ he added, pointing to a slight notch cut in the trunk of an adjoining tree.… +They proceeded cautiously at right angles with the <span class="sc">blazed</span> tree for ten minutes more. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Blaze-away</span>, <i>intj.</i> (common).—Look sharp; ‘stir your stumps’—an injunction to renewed and more effective +effort. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blazer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—Originally applied to the uniform of the Lady Margaret Boat Club of St. +John’s College, Cambridge, which was of a bright red and was called a <span class="sc">blazer</span>. Now applied to any light jacket of bright colour worn at cricket or other sports. +Prof. Skeat [<i>N. and Q.</i>, 7 S., iii., 436] speaking of the <span class="sc">Johnian blazer</span>, says it was always of the most brilliant scarlet, and thinks it not improbable that +the fact suggested the name which subsequently became general. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Times</i>, June 19. Men in spotless flannel, and club <span class="sc">blazers</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Punch</i>, June 27, p. 304. On the morning of the start for our ‘Spin to Brighton,’ Harkaway +turns up clad in what he calls a <span class="sc">blazer</span>, which makes him look like a nigger minstrel out for a holiday. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Daily News</i>, Aug. 22, p. 6, col. 6. <span class="sc">Dress by the Sea.</span> <span class="sc">Sir</span>,—In your article of to-day, under the above heading, you speak of ‘a striped red +and black <span class="sc">blazer</span>,’ ‘the <span class="sc">blazer</span>,’ also of ‘the pale toned’ ones. This is worth noting as a case of the specific becoming +the generic. A <span class="sc">blazer</span> is the red flannel boating jacket, worn by the Lady Margaret, St. John’s College, +Cambridge, Boat Club. When I was at Cambridge it meant that and nothing else. It seems +from your article that a <span class="sc">blazer</span> now means a coloured flannel jacket, whether for cricket, tennis, boating, or seaside +wear.—Yours faithfully, <span class="sc">Walter Wren</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb225">[<a href="#pb225">225</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Blazes</b>, <i>subs.</i> (general).—The infernal regions. This, an allusion to the flames of hell, was the +original meaning; constant use, however, has lessened the force of the expression, +and as in the case of ‘bloody,’ few who employ such flowers of oratory have any notion +of the proper signification. In most cases the word is now a meaningless intensitive, +and takes rank with such expressions as <span class="sc">like one o’clock</span>, <span class="sc">like winkey</span>, etc. The verb <span class="sc">to blaze</span> is likewise employed in a manner closely bordering on slang. Thus one says of an +action that it is a blazing shame; that he has a blazing headache; that so-and-so +is a blazing thief; that such a job is blazing hard work; that it is a blazing hot +day—all figurative uses of the legitimate idea. Appended are illustrations of some +of its usages. +</p> +<p>(Common.)—The brilliant habiliments of flunkeys. Derived from the episode of Sam Weller +and the ‘swarry.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Old Blazes</span>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The devil. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Skipper</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <i>Southern Literary Messenger</i>, June. He looked, upon my word, like <span class="sc">Old Blazes</span> himself, with his clothing all on fire, and rage and despair in his face. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Go to blazes</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—Go to the devil; go to hell—expressions of contempt used in imprecations. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, III., p. 135. He jumps through a trap in the window with a bottle on it, marked +‘Old Tom,’ and a scroll falls down, written <span class="sc">gone to blazes</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Adventures of Philip</i>, I., p. 99. Old Parr Street is mined, sir—mined! And some morning we shall be blown +into <span class="sc">blazes</span>,—into <span class="sc">blazes</span>, sir, mark my words! +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <span class="sc">Mrs. Riddell</span> (‘F. G. Trafford’), <i>Too Much Alone</i>, p. 200. ‘Has no one been here this afternoon?’ ‘Yes, one man, to ask his way to +<span class="sc">blazes</span>, or some place else.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">S. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>Sketch</i> (<i>Mr. Skae’s Item</i>). I could have told Johnny Skae that I would not receive his communication at such +a late hour, and to <span class="sc">go to blazes</span> with it. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">Jas. Payn</span>, in ‘A Failure of Justice’, in <i>Glow Worm Tales</i>, p. 97. ‘Sir,’ cried I, authoritatively, ‘let me tell you I am a Middlesex magistrate.’ +‘Oh, yes: a likely story!’ was his audacious reply. ‘You’ve got ’Ighbury Barn written +on your countenance <i>you</i> have, <span class="sc">go to blazes!</span>’ and he slammed down the window. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Like blazes</span>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (popular).—Vehemently; with extreme ardour.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Anything</span> and <span class="sc">Winkey</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1845. <span class="sc">B. Disraeli</span>, <i>Sybil or The Two Nations</i>, p. 330. Syllabubs <span class="sc">like blazes</span>, and snapdragon as makes the flunkeys quite pale. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 369. ‘They pelted the police.…’ ‘And cheered the red-coats <span class="sc">like blazes</span>,’ said Mick. <i>Ibid.</i> She sets her face against gals working in mills <span class="sc">like blazes</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, III., p. 159. She liked this very much, in fact so much, that the other little ones +used to cry <span class="sc">like blazes</span> because I wouldn’t let them have a turn at them [the stilts]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">Chas. Dickens</span>, <i>Tale of Two Cities</i>, I., p. 15 (in parts). A <span class="sc">blazing</span> strange answer. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">J. Lawrence</span>, <i>Guy Livingstone or Thorough</i>. They hate each other <span class="sc">like blazes</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">18(?). <span class="sc">De Quincey</span>, <i>Spanish Nun</i>, sect. 24. The horse was so maddened by the wound, and the road so steep, that he +went <span class="sc">like blazes</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">How</span>, <span class="sc">Who</span>, or <span class="sc">What the blazes</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—A somewhat more intense interrogatory than Who or What or even Who or +What the Dickens. +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Pickwick</i>, ch. lv., p. 479. ‘Pell,’ he used to say to me many a <span class="pageNum" id="pb226">[<a href="#pb226">226</a>]</span>time, ‘<span class="sc">how the blazes</span> you can stand the head-work you do, is a mystery to me.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">W. C. Russell</span>, <i>Jack’s Courtship</i>, ch. xvii. ‘<span class="sc">Who the blazes</span> would recognise Jack Seymour in those shore-going duds?’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Drunk as blazes</span> or <span class="sc">blaizers</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—Very drunk; what is vulgarly called ‘beastly’ drunk. Whether this expression +follows the derivation of the examples given above, or whether we must seek its origin +in a totally different direction, is a matter of some doubt. The alternative derivation +suggested is that the phrase is really <span class="sc">drunk as blaizers</span>, an expression which dates back at least to 1830 [<i>N. and Q.</i>, 6 S., i., 434]. Sir Thomas Wyse, in <i>Impressions of Greece</i>, speaking (<i>see</i> <i>Life of Richard Waldo Sibthorp</i>, by J. Fowler, 1880, p. 227) of the reverence for St. Blaize, in Greece (who is also, +as is known, the patron saint of the English woolcombers), and how his feast was observed +in the woollen manufactories of the Midland Counties, says, ‘Those who took part in +the procession were called <span class="sc">Blaizers</span>, and the phrase <span class="sc">as drunk as blaizers</span> originated in the convivialities common on those occasions! So good <span id="xd33e37924">“</span>Bishop and Martyr<span id="xd33e37927">”</span> Blaize is dishonoured as well as honoured in England, and very probably in Greece.<span>’</span> Further data may be found in Chambers’ <i>Book of Days</i>, vol. I., pp. 219–20. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bleach</b>, <i>verb</i> (Harvard University.)—To absent oneself from morning prayers.—<span class="sc">Hall’s</span> <i>College Words and Phrases</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bleached Mort</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A fair complexioned wench.—<i>Grose.</i> [From <span class="sc">bleached</span>, white or fair, + <span class="sc">mort</span>, a girl or woman.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bleak</b>, <i>adj.</i> (American thieves’).—In the phraseology of American thieves, <span class="sc">bleak</span> means handsome. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bleater</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The victim of a sharper or rook. In the following quotation a <span class="sc">Jack in the box</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) is an old thieves’ term for a swindler or cheat. +</p> +<p class="cit">1609. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Lanthorne</i>, wks., 1884–5, III., 290. They that are Cheated by Iacke in a Boxe are called <span class="sc">bleaters</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bleaters</span>, those cheated by Jack in a Box. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> (Same definition given.) +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bleating Cheat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A sheep.—Grose. [In the old cant <span class="sc">cheat</span> or <span class="sc">chete</span> [from Anglo-Saxon <i>ceat</i>] signified a thing; and the names of animals were frequently formed by adding an +adjective descriptive of their peculiar noise or cry. Thus a <span class="sc">grunting cheat</span> was a pig; a <span class="sc">cackling cheat</span> a fowl; a <span class="sc">bleating cheat</span> a sheep.] A sheep is also called a <span class="sc">wool-bird</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). Among French thieves this animal is designated <i lang="fr">une morne</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bleating Cull</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A sheep stealer. [From <span class="sc">bleating</span>, see preceding, + <span class="sc">cull</span>, a man, honest or otherwise.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bleating Prig</b> or <b>Rig</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Sheep stealing. [From <span class="sc">bleating</span>, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Bleating cheat</span>, + <span class="sc">prig</span>, or <span class="sc">rig</span>, the act of stealing.] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb227">[<a href="#pb227">227</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bleed</b>, <i>verb tr.</i> and <i>intr.</i> (popular).—1. To be victimised; to lose or part with money so that the loss is felt; +to be ‘<span class="sc">rushed</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>); to have money drawn or extorted from one. [An allusion to the loss sustained by +parting with one’s life blood.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1668. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>An Evening’s Love</i>, Act iv., Sc. 1. In fine, he is vehement, and <span class="sc">bleeds</span> on to fourscore or an hundred; and I, not willing to tempt fortune, come away a moderate +winner of two hundred pistoles. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Bleed</span> (v.) … also to part with money freely, upon proposing something agreeable to a person’s +disposition, whether it be in gaming or anything else. +</p> +<p class="cit">1751. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Peregrine Pickle</i>, ch. lxvi. To whom he was particularly agreeable, on account of his person, address, +and <span class="sc">bleeding</span> freely at play. +</p> +<p class="cit">1830. <span class="sc">S. Warren</span>, <i>Diary of a Late Physician</i>, ch. xxii. The reputed readiness with which she <span class="sc">bled</span>, at last brought her the honour of an old countess, who condescended to win from +her, at two sittings, very nearly £5,000. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Pendennis</i>, ch. lxviii. ‘You have got a bill of sale for her furniture.… By Jove, sir, you’ve +<span class="sc">bled</span> that poor woman enough.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Manchester Evening News</i>, 23 June, p. 2, col. 2. Men who give bills have to <span class="sc">bleed</span> for the accommodation. +</p> +<p>2. (printers’.)—A book <span class="sc">bleeds</span> when the margins are ‘planed’ down so that the edge of the printed portion is cut +away. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, June 9, p. 2, col. 1. So very carelessly has the mechanical part of production been +done that, in the phraseology of the craft—half technical, half slang—the pages <span class="sc">bleed</span> in many places—<i>i.e.</i>, the binder’s knife when cutting the edges has also cut away portions of the printed +matter. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bleeder</b>, <i>subs.</i> (University).—1. A duffer beyond compare; a superlative fool. (common).—A euphemism +for ‘bloody fool.’ +</p> +<p>2. (sporting.)—A sovereign. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Canary</span>. +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—A spur; an obvious allusion. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bleeding</b>, <i>adj.</i>—An expletive, which, if meant, would partake of the nature of an oath; as it is there +is little enough, sanguinary, either literally or metaphorically about much that is +described as <span class="sc">bleeding</span>. It sounds big and weighty to those who use it, and that suffices. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">Besant and Rice</span>, <i>Son of Vulcan</i>, pt. II., ch. xxiii. ‘When he isn’t up to one dodge he is up to another. You make +no <span class="sc">bleeding</span> error.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bleeding Cully</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—One who parts easily with his money, or bleeds freely.—<i>Grose.</i>—[<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bleed</span>.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bleed the Monkey</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (nautical).—To steal rum from the mess tub called ‘the monkey.’ The term is exclusively +naval, ‘monkeys’ not being known on merchant ships. The practice is also called <span class="sc">sucking the monkey</span>, and <span class="sc">tapping the admiral</span>.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Admiral</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Chambers’ Journal</i>, 3 Aug., p. 495. <span class="sc">To suck the monkey</span> is a phrase explained in <i>Peter Simple</i> as having originally been used among sailors for drinking rum out of cocoa-nuts, +the milk having been poured out and the liquor substituted. It is now applied to the +act of drinking on the sly from a cask by inserting a straw through a gimlet hole, +and to drinking generally. Barham, in the legend of the <i>Black Mousquetaire</i> says: +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">What the vulgar call <span class="sc">sucking the monkey</span>, </p> +<p class="line">Has much less effect on a man when he’s funky. </p> +</div> +<p><span class="pageNum" id="pb228">[<a href="#pb228">228</a>]</span></p> +<p class="first main"><b>Blenker</b>, <i>verb</i> (American).—To plunder. A cant phrase much used during the Civil War. Possibly allied +to the northern provincialism ‘blenk,’ a trick or stratagem. ‘Blenk’ was also used +in <i lang="fr">Morte d’Arthur</i> in the sense of ‘to bilk,’ or ‘cheat.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bless</b>, <i>verb</i> (popular).—To curse; to damn.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blessed</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To bless oneself</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (common).—To be surprised; to be vexed; to be mortified. Generally, ‘God bless me!’ +or ‘Bless my eyes!’ ‘Bless my soul!’ ‘Lor’ bless me!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Midsummer Night’s Dream</i>, iv., 2, 11. <i>Quin</i>: Yea, and the best person too: and he is a very paramour, for a sweet voice. <i>Flu</i>: You must say, paragon: a paramour is, <span class="sc">God bless us</span>, a thing of nought. +</p> +<p class="cit">1615. <span class="sc">T. Adams</span>, <i>Black Dev.</i>, 71. He … would <span class="sc">blesse himselfe</span> to think that so little a thing could extend itself to such a capacity. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1665. <span class="sc">Pepys</span>, <i>Diary</i>, 1 Apr. How my Lord Treasurer did <span class="sc">bless himself</span>, crying he could do no more, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1759. <span class="sc">Sterne</span>, <i><span class="corr" id="xd33e38312" title="Source: Tristam">Tristram</span> Shandy</i>, ch. xl. Rub your hands thrice across your foreheads—blow your nose—cleanse your +emunctories—sneeze, my good people!—<span class="sc">God bless you.</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1814. <span class="sc">Miss Austen</span>, <i>Mansfield Park</i>, ch. xviii. Could Sir Thomas look in upon us just now, he would <span class="sc">bless himself</span>, for we are rehearsing all over the house. +</p> +<p class="cit">1843. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Christmas Carol</i>, p. 77. ‘Why, <span class="sc">bless my soul</span>,’ cried Fred, ‘who’s that?’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Bulwer Lytton</span>, <i>My Novel</i>, I., p. 307. After they had lain apart for a little while, very silent and sullen, +John sneezed. ‘<span class="sc">God bless you!</span>’ says Joan, over the bolster. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Not a [penny] to bless oneself with</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—Utterly impecunious; ‘without a sou.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1843. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Martin Chuzzlewit</i>, I., p. 237. He landed there <span class="sc">without a penny to bless himself with</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>David Copperfield</i>, I., p. 113. I heard that Mr. Mell was not a bad sort of fellow, but <span class="sc">hadn’t a sixpence to bless himself with</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, III., p. 55. The most of ’em <span class="sc">ain’t got a farthing to bless themselves with</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">George Eliot</span>, <i>Silas Marner</i>, p. 38. <span class="sc">I have not a shilling to bless myself with.</span> +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To bless one’s stars</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (common).—To thank oneself; to attribute one’s good fortune to luck, generally in +a ludicrous sense. +</p> +<p class="cit">1845. <span class="sc">Hood</span>, <i>Pauper’s Christmas Carol</i>, iii. Ought not I to <span class="sc">bless my stars</span>? +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. iii., p. 230. Forty-eight marks! a week’s remission. The very thought made me +savage, but I <span class="sc">blessed my stars</span> I had not lost my class, or my good berth. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blessed</b>, <b>Blest</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (popular).—An ironical euphemism; often used like <span class="sc">blazing</span> for ‘cursed,’ ‘damned,’ etc., or as a vow.—<i>See</i> quot. from Hindley and <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1806. <span class="sc">Windham</span>, <i>Let.</i> in <i>Speeches</i> (1812), I., 77. As one of the happy consequences of our <span class="sc">blessed</span> system of printing debates, I am described to-day … as having talked a language directly +the reverse of that which I did talk. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 139. One Maidstone Fair time, I saw one of the gipsy Lees called ‘Jemmy,’ fighting +with a man much bigger than himself. Tom Rosseter, the mumper, was seconding his brother-in-law, +Jemmy Lee, when, as Jemmy kept throwing his man very heavily, he said, ‘My dear <span class="sc">blessed</span> brother, don’t throw the <span class="sc">blessed</span> man like that or you will be sure to kill him.’ ‘Well,’ said Jemmy, ‘but my dear +<span class="sc">blessed</span> brother, if I don’t kill the dear <span class="sc">blessed</span> man, why the big <span class="sc">blessed</span> —— will be sure to kill me, and so I must keep on throwing the dear <span class="sc">blessed</span> man, for you see what a <span class="sc">blessed</span> big dear fellow he is to me.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. iii., p. 245. ‘They called in the coppers, and some feller in the shop twigged +my old girl as one he’d a-seen <span class="pageNum" id="pb229">[<a href="#pb229">229</a>]</span>before, and <span class="sc">blessed</span> if they didn’t identify her as having lifted some things out of the shop, and she +was pinched for seven “stretch.” ’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Punch</i>, Aug. 5, p. 49. <i>Sir Pompey Bedell</i>: ‘Oh!—er—Mr. Grigsby, I think! How d’ye do?’ [extending two fingers]. <i>Grigsby</i>: ‘I hope I see you well, <i>Sir Pompey</i>. And next time you give me two fingers, I’m <span class="sc">blest</span> if I don’t pull ’em off.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Sporting Times</i>, July 6. St. Mannock.—Did you ever hear a still, small voice whispering over its +morning shrimps, ‘What a pair of <span class="sc">blessed</span> fools you are!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blether</b><span id="xd33e38513">,</span> <b>Blather</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Scotch and U.S.A.).—Nonsense; vapid talk; voluble chatter. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>b.</i> 1759, <i>d.</i> 1796. <span class="sc">Burns</span>, <i>Tam Samson’s Elegy</i>, st. 12. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Yon auld gray stane, amang the heather, </p> +<p class="line xd33e5086">Marks out his head, </p> +<p class="line">Whare <i>Burns</i> has wrote in rhyming <span class="sc">blether</span>, </p> +<p class="line xd33e5086"><i>Tam Samson’s dead</i>! </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1886. <span class="sc">Pall Mall Gazette</span>, 3 May, 6, 2. Havelock’s florid adjurations to his men, the grim veterans of the +78th, bluntly characterized as <span class="sc">blether</span>. +</p> +<p>Hence <span class="sc">blethering</span> (<i>verb</i>, <i>subs.</i>) used in the same sense as <span class="sc">blether</span>, and as an adjective for ‘volubly’ or ‘foolishly talkative.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bletherskate</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>b.</i> 1759, <i>d.</i> 1796. <span class="sc">Burns</span>, <i>Holy Fair</i>, st. 8. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">And some are busy <span class="sc">blethrin’</span> </p> +<p class="line xd33e27473">Right loud that day. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1816. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Old Mortality</i>, ch. xiv. ‘I hae been clean spoilt, just wi’ listening to twa <span class="sc">blethering</span> auld wives.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Hawley Smart</span>, <i>Hard Lines</i>, ch. vi. He had brought this <span class="sc">blethering</span> Irishman down here, and <span class="corr" id="xd33e38609" title="Source: deluyed">deluged</span> him with punch for the express purpose of turning him inside out. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bletherskate</b>, <b>Blatherskite</b>, <i>subs.</i> (provincial and American).—1. Boastful swagger, whether in talk or action. +</p> +<p>2. A boaster; noisy talker of blatant nonsense. [From <span class="sc">blether</span>, to talk nonsensically, + <span class="sc">skate</span>, allied to Scotch <span class="sc">skyte</span>, a contemptible fellow.] It occurs in Maggie Lauder, a well-known Scotch song, a +fact which Murray says led to its popularisation in the United States. In Ireland +it seems to have taken the forms of <span class="sc">bladder-skate</span> and <span class="sc">bladderum-skate</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Circa</i> 1650. <span class="sc">F. Sempill</span>, <i>Maggie Lauder</i>, i. Jog on your gait, ye <span class="sc">blether-skate</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1825. <span class="sc">C. Croker</span>, <i>Tradit. S. Ireland</i>, p. 170. He was, as usual, getting on with his <span class="sc">bletherumskite</span> about the fairies. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">J. R. O’Flanagan</span>, <i>Lives of the Lord Chancellors of Ireland</i>. ‘Lord Redesdale was speaking of people who learnt to skate with bladders under their +arms, to buoy them up if they should fall into a hole and risk being drowned.’ ‘Ah, +my Lord,’ said Toler, ‘that is what we call <span class="sc">bladderumskate</span> in Ireland.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blew</b>, <i>verb</i> (common).—1. To inform; to ‘peach’; to expose; to betray.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blow upon</span>, of which it is a variant. +</p> +<p>2. (popular.)—To spend; to waste; generally in connection with money. When a man has +spent or lost all his money, he is said to have <span class="sc">blewed it</span>. [The derivation is uncertain, that most likely being its reference to a corrupt +grammatical use of <span class="sc">blew</span>, the past tense of ‘to blow.’ Money spent recklessly and wasted vanishes as if blown +away by the wind.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, May 28, p. 5, col. 1. ‘Which paid him £1,700 compensation, when he took to horses, +and <span class="sc">blewed</span> the blooming lot in eighteen months.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Sporting Times</i>, June 29. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Isabel and Maudie knew the Turf and all its arts— </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">They had often <span class="sc">blewed</span> a dollar on a wrong ’un— <span class="pageNum" id="pb230">[<a href="#pb230">230</a>]</span></p> +<p class="line">And Isabel one evening met a mug from rural parts, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">An attenuated Juggins, and a long ’un. </p> +</div> +<p class="first"><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Se faire rincer</i> (popular: ‘to be cleared out’ [at a game]. <i lang="fr">Rincer</i>, properly ‘to drench,’ ‘to serve out,’ also has the slang signification of ‘to thrash’); +<i lang="fr">paumer</i> (thieves’ and vagrants’: this verb is very old, and is derived from <i lang="fr">palma</i> = <i lang="fr">empoigner</i>. It also signifies to arrest, lose, etc.); <i lang="fr">laumir</i> (an old cant term); <i lang="fr">se faire ratisser</i> (familiar: literally ‘to scrape oneself’); <i lang="fr">faire rasoir</i> (gaming: ‘to be penniless’); <i lang="fr">se faire enturer</i> (popular: ‘to cut into oneself’; <i lang="fr">enture</i> = incision or cut); <i lang="fr">panner quelqu’un</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">mettre dans le sac</i> (gamesters’: <i>Cf.</i>, ‘be in a hole’); <i lang="fr">décavage</i> (familiar: a term employed to signify the circumstances of a gamester who has ‘blewed +it’; one who is in ‘Queer Street’—from <i lang="fr">décavé</i>, a ruined gamester); <i lang="fr">se faire lessiver</i>: ‘to wash oneself.’ Michel gives <i lang="fr">lessive</i> = defence, and <i lang="fr">lessiveur</i> = barrister, and remarks that better terms could hardly be given to advocate and +speech by those charged with offence, and who wish to return from the same ‘white +as snow,’ or, as police phraseology hath it, without a stain upon one’s character. +For other synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Shave</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blimey</b>, <i>intj.</i> (low).—A corruption of ‘Blind me!’; an expression little enough understood by those +who constantly have it in their mouths. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blind</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. The night time—an allusion to the absence of light.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Darkmans</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (familiar.)—A pretence; a shift; an action through which one’s real purpose is +concealed; that which obstructs; a ‘make-believe.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1663. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>Wild Gallant</i>, Act iii. He … took your court to her, only as a <span class="sc">blind</span> to your affection for me. +</p> +<p class="cit">1694. <span class="sc">Congreve</span>, <i>Double Dealer</i>, Act ii., Sc. 5. I know you don’t love Cynthia, only as a <span class="sc">blind</span> for your passion to me. +</p> +<p class="cit">1703. <span class="sc">Mrs. Centlivre</span>, <i>Beau’s Dual</i>, I., i. (1872), i., 70. Am I publish’d to the world as a <span class="sc">blind</span> for his designs? +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">E. L. Linton</span>, <i>World Well Lost</i>, ch. xxviii. The excuse was too palpably a <span class="sc">blind</span> to be accepted as a reason. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Answers</i>, July 13, p. 104, col. 3. The Major and the Captain he referred to in his letters +were mere ‘<span class="sc">blinds</span>.’ The Captain relied upon the fact that not one person in a dozen took the trouble +to apply to these gentlemen. +</p> +<p>3. (printers’.)—A paragraph [¶] mark is so called; from the eye of the reversed ‘P’ +being filled up. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i> (old).—Tipsy; in liquor. Nares says this cant term was used with others in the works +of Taylor, the water-poet [1630]. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Screwed</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Blind as a brickbat</span>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (colloquial).—A facetious simile for very blind—mentally or physically. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>David Copperfield</i>, III., p. 97. The old scholar … is as <span class="sc">blind as a brickbat</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">When the devil is blind</span>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (common).—Never. The French have three very graphic—though in one case very vulgar—analogues +for this expression—<i lang="fr">quand les poules pisseront</i>, which need not be translated; <i lang="fr">le trente six du mois</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘on the thirty-sixth day of the month,’ and <i lang="fr">quand les poules <span class="pageNum" id="pb231">[<a href="#pb231">231</a>]</span>auront des dents</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, when cocks and hens have teeth. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To go it blind.</span>—A luminous figure of speech to convey the idea of entering upon an undertaking without +thought as to the result, or inquiry beforehand. This is one of the many slang expressions +which owe their origin to the American game of poker, the special form of which known +as blind poker, where the cards are betted upon before being looked at, being responsible +for the phrase now in question. <i>Cf.</i>, also <span class="sc">Blind</span> (<i>subs.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">J. Russell Lowell</span>, <i>Biglow Papers</i>, II., p. 118— +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line xd33e5088">‘to impress on the popular mind </p> +<p class="line">The comfort and wisdom of <span class="sc">goin’ it blind</span>.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1871. <span class="sc">De Vere</span>, <i>Americanisms</i>, p. 328. <i>Blind Poker</i> has given rise to the very common phrase, to <span class="sc">go it blind</span>, used whenever an enterprise is undertaken without previous inquiry. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">General Sherman</span>, <i>Memoirs</i>, vol. I., p. 342. I know that in Washington I am incomprehensible, because at the +outset of the war I would not <span class="sc">go it blind</span>, and rush headlong into a war unprepared and with an utter ignorance of its extent +and purpose. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Chicago Ledger</i>, May 12. ‘And so you’ve married a jewel, have you, Tom?’ ‘I have, for a fact, Dick.’ +‘Lucky dog! You’re a man in a million. Mighty few <span class="sc">go it blind</span> and fare as well as you’ve done.’ ‘I didn’t <span class="sc">go it blind</span>. I employed a detective, and he managed to get board in the family.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blind Cheeks</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The posteriors. [The derivation is from an obvious simile.] +</p> +<p>Among <span class="sc">English Synonyms</span> are—Two fat cheeks and ne’er a nose; blind Cupid; ampersand; cheeks; arse; corybungo; +dopey; droddum; dummock; feak; bum; nock (<i>i.e.</i>, ‘a notch’); round mouth; windmill; blind-eye; monocular eye-glass. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Un borgne</i> (low: ‘a one-eyed person’); <i lang="fr">un cyclope</i> (the allusion is mythological—from Cyclops, the one-eyed giant, whose optic was placed +in the middle of the forehead); <i lang="fr">la rose des vents</i>; <i lang="fr">un piffe</i>; <i lang="fr">un pignard</i>; <i lang="fr">boite aux ordures</i>. <span class="sc">German Synonym.</span> <i lang="de">Acherponim</i> (from Hebrew <i lang="und">achar ponim</i>; literally ‘the face at the back’). For other synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Bum</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blind Drunk</b>, <i>adj. phr.</i> (common).—Very intoxicated; so drunk as to be unable to see better than a blind man. +Americans say, ‘So drunk as not to be able to see through a ladder.’ For synonyms, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Screwed</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1845. <span class="sc">Disraeli</span>, <i>Sybil or the Two Nations</i>, p. 350. Hang me if I wasn’t <span class="sc">blind drunk</span> at the end of it. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blinder.</b> <span class="sc">To take a blinder</span>, <i>phr.</i> (thieves’).—To die. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Aloft</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blind Eye</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The podex.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blind cheeks</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blind Half Hundred</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—The Fiftieth Regiment of Foot; from so many men suffering from ophthalmia +during the Egyptian campaign [1801]; also the <span class="sc">Dirty Half Hundred</span> from the men in action wiping their faces with their black facings during the Peninsula +War. <span class="sc">Half Hundred</span> is an adaptation of the number of the regiment—the Fiftieth. The corps is also called +the ‘Gallant Fiftieth,’ from its gallantry at the battle of Vimiera, 1808. +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <i>Chambers’ Journal</i>, No. 417, p. 803. The <span class="sc">Dirty Half Hundred</span> was <span class="pageNum" id="pb232">[<a href="#pb232">232</a>]</span>the curious nickname given to the 50th Foot. Two accounts are given of the origin +of this. One asserts that it was from their red uniforms being faced with black and +silver lace, and thus giving the regiment a dull and sombre appearance; whilst the +other tells us that it was from the men wiping their perspiring faces with the black +cuffs of their coats, and thus giving their countenances a somewhat swarthy tint. +Whatever may be the origin of this sobriquet, they bear a second about which there +can be no doubt. From the glorious charge, led by Colonel Walker, at Vimiera, this +regiment is known as the ‘Gallant Fiftieth.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Tinsley’s Magazine</i>, April, p. 322. Most people have heard of the ‘Fighting Fiftieth.’ But the 50th are +rich in nicknames. They are, or at least they were, the <span class="sc">Blind Half-Hundredth</span>, having been but too literally blinded by the ravages of ophthalmia when in Egypt +with Sir Ralph Abercromby. And when on one occasion the men dried the perspiration +from their faces with their cuffs, they for a while became the <span class="sc">Dirty Half-Hundredth</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blind Harpers</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Beggars counterfeiting blindness, playing on fiddles, etc.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blind-Man’s Holiday</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—Formerly this common colloquialism signified the night or darkness; it +is now, however, usually applied to the time ‘between lights’ when it is too dark +to see, but often not dark enough to light up, and a holiday or rest from work is +taken. The blind from their infirmity are in general exempted from labour, and in +this view keep holiday; when the twilight hour comes, when those that <i>can</i> work, or read, etc., can no longer <i>see</i> to do so, it is <span class="sc">blind-man’s holiday</span> to them, and they of necessity rest accordingly. This derivation, one would think, +is sufficiently obvious; but, on the other hand, there are those who think the expression +a corruption of ‘blind-man’s <i>all-day</i>.’ The meaning then would be that the gradual departure of light brings one to the +state which the blind man endures all day, or which is all the day the blind man has. +Whichever derivation be true, it is, however, interesting to note that this ‘household +word’ of to-day has been in the mouths of the English people for more than three hundred +years. It is the English equivalent of the Scotch <span class="sc">in the gloaming</span>, of an equally venerable lineage. +</p> +<p class="cit">1599. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Lenten Stuffe</i>, in wks. V., 263. And what will not blinde Cupid doe in the night which is his <span class="sc">blindman’s holiday</span>? +</p> +<p class="cit">1738. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Polite Conversation</i> (conv. iii.). Indeed, madam, it is <span class="sc">blindman’s holiday</span>; we shall soon be all of a colour. +</p> +<p class="cit">1824. <span class="sc">T. Fielding</span>, <i>Proverbs, etc.</i> (<i>Familiar Phrases</i>), p. 147. <span class="sc">Blindman’s holiday.</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <i>Aunt Judy’s Mag.</i>, Oct., 358. At meal times, or in <span class="sc">blindman’s holiday</span>, when no work was to be done. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blind Monkeys</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Hotten thus explains this expression:—An imaginary collection at the Zoological +Gardens, which are supposed to receive care and attention from persons fitted by nature +for such office and for little else. An idle and useless person is often told that +he is only fit to lead the <span class="sc">blind monkeys</span> to evacuate. Another form this elegant conversation takes, is for one man to tell +another that he knows of a suitable situation for him. ‘How much a week? and what +to do?’ are natural questions, and then comes the scathing and sarcastic reply, ‘Five +bob a week at the doctor’s—you’re to stand behind the door and make the <span class="pageNum" id="pb233">[<a href="#pb233">233</a>]</span>patients sick. They won’t want no physic when they sees your mug.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blindo</b>, <i>verb</i> (military).—To die. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Aloft</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blind One’s Trail</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (American).—Figuratively, to remove the traces of one’s actions; to conceal one’s +intentions. This expression is obviously traceable to the days of Indian warfare, +when even the lives of those engaged often depended upon the success with which the +trail could be ‘blinded,’ or obliterated. Also <span class="sc">to trash one’s trail</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blind Side</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—The <span class="sc">blind side</span> of a person or thing is that which is weakest; the most assailable side. The expression +is much older than the example quoted by Murray [1655]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1606. <span class="sc">Chapman</span>, <i>Gentleman Usher</i>, Act i., p. 79 (<i>Plays</i>, 1874). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">For that, we’ll follow the <span class="sc">blind side</span> of him, </p> +<p class="line">And make it sometimes subject of our mirth. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1663. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>Wild Gallant</i>, Act iii. <i>Con.</i> My father’s credulous, and this rogue has found the <span class="sc">blind side</span> of him. +</p> +<p class="cit">1742. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Joseph Andrews</i>, bk. III., ch. v. Indeed, if this good man had an enthusiasm, or what the vulgar +call a <span class="sc">blind side</span>, it was this,—he thought a schoolmaster the greatest character in the world, and +himself the greatest of all schoolmasters. +</p> +<p class="cit">1820. <span class="sc">Lamb</span>, <i>Elia</i> (<i>Mrs. Battle</i>). All people have their <span class="sc">blind side</span>—their superstitions. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blink</b>, <i>verb</i> (American).—To drink. [Probably of humorous origin, similar to <span class="sc">smile</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).—and alluding to a wink or <span class="sc">blink</span> exchanged between friends and comrades before drinking. A frequent toast is ‘I look +towards you,’ and the transference of sense in such a phrase as ‘I wink’ or ‘<span class="sc">blink</span> to you,’ and then the use of <span class="sc">to blink</span> for ‘to drink’ is easy enough. <i>Cf.</i>, also <span class="sc">To go out and see a man</span>.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blinker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. The eye. [From <span class="sc">blink</span>, to move the eyelids, to wink; <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Winkers</span>; <span class="sc">Peepers</span>; <span class="sc">Optics</span>, etc.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Glims</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1816. <span class="sc">Quiz</span>, <i>Grand Master</i>, I., ii. A patent pair of goggle winkers, Conceal’d from public view his <span class="sc">blinkers</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>American Humorist.</i> ‘<span class="sc">Blank your blinkers</span>,’ angrily retorted Brudee, ‘your business was not to fight, but show us the enemy.’ +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—<i>pl.</i> Spectacles. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barnacles</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1732. <span class="sc">M. Green</span>, <i>Grotto</i>, 10. Bigots who but one way see through <span class="sc">blinkers</span> of authority. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1803. <span class="sc">Bristed</span>, <i>Pedest. Tour</i>, I., 38. A little fellow, with <span class="sc">blinkers</span> over his eyes. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Eng. Hum.</i>, IV. (1858), 205. Who only dare to look up at life through <span class="sc">blinkers</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>3. (provincial.)—In Norfolk, a black eye. +</p> +<p>4. (pugilistic.)—A hard blow in the eye. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Blank your blinkers.</span>—A euphemistic oath, equivalent to the more common ‘D——n your eyes.’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blink-Fencer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A person who sells spectacles. [From <span class="sc">blink</span>, a contracted form of ‘blinkers,’ spectacles + <span class="sc">fence</span>, primarily a receiver of stolen goods, but also applied to a tradesman of any kind, ++ <span class="sc">er</span>.] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb234">[<a href="#pb234">234</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Blinko</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’ and vagrants’).—An amateur entertainment held, generally, at a public house; +a <span class="sc">free and easy</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); a <span class="sc">sing song</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">J. Greenwood</span>, <i>Dick Temple</i>. ‘What is a <span class="sc">blinko</span> for instance?’ ‘Well, it’s a kind of entertainment, singing, and that,’ replied the +old fellow, ‘to which strangers are not invited—least of all the police.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, August 4, p. 2, col. 1. ‘An Harmonic <span class="sc">blinko</span>, the proceeds of which will be given towards buying a barrow for Young Duckling, +who has got married with no visible means of support.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blister</b>, <i>verb</i> (common).—Employed euphemistically for ‘to damn.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blamed</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">H. Cockton</span>, <i>Valentine Vox</i>, ch. xxvi. ‘Where can they be hid?’ he exclaimed, with great emphasis. ‘<span class="sc">Blister</span> ’em! Where can the scoundrels be got to?’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blizzard</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A poser; a stunning blow; an unanswerable argument, etc., etc. This word, +recently brought into prominent notice as the name by which sudden and exceptionally +severe snowstorms are known in the Western States of America, is one the etymology +of which is dubious. Some authorities derive it from the German <i lang="de">blitz</i>—lightning, but a correspondent of <i>N. and Q.</i> claims it as of English nationality, asserting that the word has been known in the +Midland Counties in its present form, or nearly so, for over thirty years; further +stating that ‘may I be blizzered’ is a common oath there. Assuming that the expression +is a variation of the more generally familiar ‘May God strike me blind’ (that is, +presumably by lightning), there is nothing antagonistic between the two theories of +its genesis, and a further light is perhaps thrown upon the subject, tending to support +its German origin, by the fact that, in Pennsylvania, it has been familiar, according +to a correspondent of the <i>New York Sun</i>, for more than half-a-century, its use and meaning being akin to the instances above +mentioned. It appears that in the central counties of the State in question, the word +was always used to include the idea of the ‘poser,’ and even of force, violence, spitefulness, +or vindictiveness. If one dealt another a hostile blow he ‘gave him a <span class="sc">blizzard</span> on the nose,’ ‘on the jaw,’ ‘between the eyes,’ etc. If a magistrate lectured a litigant +severely he ‘gave him a <span class="sc">blizzard</span>.’ If in debate one dealt mercilessly in ridicule he ‘gave his opponent a <span class="sc">blizzard</span>.’ If one man swore at or cursed another he ‘gave him a <span class="sc">blizzard</span>.’ If a man’s wife scolded him she ‘gave him a <span class="sc">blizzard</span>.’ When it is remembered that Pennsylvania is the State in which the Dutch or German +element most largely predominates, it does not seem far fetched to attribute its origin +to a Teutonic source, more especially as there is nothing in the English usage to +preclude such a derivation. However this may be, the word invariably seems to imply +suddenness combined with violence; and, at any rate, it apparently disposes of the +supposition that the word is of Western origin, or a coinage of so recent a date as +is frequently supposed. Like most words of its class, which have largely struck the +popular taste, <span class="pageNum" id="pb235">[<a href="#pb235">235</a>]</span>it has been generally adopted in an idiomatic sense to signify a stunning blow; an +overwhelming argument, or a cool reception. +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">Crockett</span>, <i>Tour Down East</i>, 16. A gentleman at dinner asked me for a toast; and supposing he meant to have some +fun at my expense, I concluded to go ahead, and give him and his likes a <span class="sc">blizzard</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <span class="sc">De Vere</span>, <i>Americanisms</i>, p. 443. <span class="sc">Blizzard</span>, a term referred back to the German <i lang="de">Blitz</i>, means in the West a stunning blow or an overwhelming argument. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">G. A. S[ala]</span>, in <i>Ill. L. News</i>, Feb. 23, p. 171, col. 2. <span class="sc">Blizzard</span>. The philologers in American Slang refer back to the German <i lang="de">blitz</i>; and its original meaning in the Western States seems to have been a stunning blow +or an overwhelming argument. In the Eastern States a sudden set-in of severe frost +is called a ‘cold snap.’ Query, how many ‘cold snaps’ does it take to make a ‘<span class="sc">blizzard</span>’? +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>San Francisco News Letter.</i> I should like to have seen the Colonel’s face when he got that very cold, <span class="sc">blizzardy</span> letter. I bet that if Minnie had been near him he would have slapped her real hard. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bloak.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bloke</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bloat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—1. A drowned body. +</p> +<p>2. A drunkard. The simile which groups the two is, perhaps, not far wrong. [Probably +from <span class="sc">bloat</span>, an adjective signifying puffed, swollen, inflated. <span class="sc">Bloat</span> was also formerly in use in England as a contemptuous name for a human being.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bloated Aristocrat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—An opprobrious epithet for a man swollen with the pride of rank or wealth; +also a general sobriquet applied by ‘the masses’ to ‘the classes.’ ‘Bloated’ has long +been employed in a similar sense. Swift spoke of a certain statesman as ‘a bloated +minister’ [1731]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Adventures of Philip</i>, I., p. 101. What a <span class="sc">bloated aristocrat</span> Thingamy has become since he got his place! +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <span class="sc">G. A. Sala</span>, <i>Breakfast in Bed</i>, essay I., p. 17 (1864). Of the two most salient English gentlemen represented, one +is a <span class="sc">bloated aristocrat</span> of a Baronet hopelessly in debt, the other a rapid brainless nobleman. +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <span class="sc">M. Twain</span>, <i>Innocents Abroad</i>, ch. x. We sat down finally, at a late hour, in the great Casino, and called for +unstinted champagne. It is so easy to be <span class="sc">bloated aristocrats</span> where it costs nothing of consequence! +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bloater.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">My Bloater</span>; also <span class="sc">Mild Bloater</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blob</b>, <i>verb</i> (vagrants’).—To talk; to ‘patter.’ [Probably a corrupted form of <span class="sc">blab</span>.] Beggars are of two kinds—those who <span class="sc">screeve</span> (introducing themselves with a <span class="sc">fakement</span>, or false document) and those who <span class="sc">blob</span>, or state their case in their own truly ‘unvarnished’ language. [<i>See</i>, however, second quot.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. I., p. 339. ‘Of professional beggars there are two kinds—those who “do it on +the <span class="sc">blob</span>” (by word of mouth), and those who do it by “<i>screeving</i>,” that is, by petitions and letters.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>Good for Nothing</i>, ch. xxvi. ‘Five minutes more and we shall run into him,’ he shouts, sitting well +back on his horse, and urging him to his extreme pace, ‘when he <span class="sc">blobs</span> like that he’s getting beat. <i>See</i> how Canvas sticks to him, and the yellow dog hangs back waiting for the turn.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Block</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A stupid person; a hard unsympathetic individual; one of mean, unattractive +appearance. [A figurative sense of <span class="sc">block</span>, as of wood or stone.] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb236">[<a href="#pb236">236</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit"><i>a.</i> 1534. <span class="sc">N. Udall</span>, <i>Roister Doister</i>, III., iii., p. 44 (Arber). Ye are such a calfe, such an asse, such a <span class="sc">blocke</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1595. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Two Gentlemen</i>, Act ii., Sc. 5. <i>Speed.</i> What an ass art thou! I understand thee not. <i>Launce.</i> What a <span class="sc">block</span> art thou, that thou canst not! +</p> +<p class="cit">1599. <span class="sc">Jonson</span>, <i>Every Man out of his Humour</i>. Induct. <i>Cor.</i> Hang him, dull <span class="sc">block</span>! +</p> +<p class="cit">1624. <span class="sc">Massinger</span>, <i>Bondman</i>, II., ii. This will bring him on, Or he’s a <span class="sc">block</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Block</span> (s) … sometimes an ignorant, stupid fellow. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <span class="sc">Besant and Rice</span>, <i>Chaplain of the Fleet</i>, pt. II., ch. iv. She said that her partner was delightful to dance with, partly +because he was a lord—and a title, she said, gives an air of grace to any <span class="sc">block</span>—partly because he danced well and talked amiably. +</p> +<p>2. The head. Possibly an abbreviated form of <span class="sc">barber’s block</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Crumpet</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1637. <span class="sc">Shirley</span>, <i>Lady of Pleas</i>, II., i. Buy a beaver For thy own <span class="sc">block</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">H. Kingsley</span>, <i>Ravenshoe</i>, ch. xxxv. ‘I cleaned a groom’s boots on Toosday, and he punched my <span class="sc">block</span> because I blacked the tops.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Barber’s Block</span>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. A transferred sense [from a wooden head for showing off a wig] applied +to a showy, over-dressed man; a fop. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">E. Lynn Linton</span>, <i>Hallberger’s Illus. Mag.</i>, p. 72. No, not to men worthy of the name of men—men, not <span class="sc">barber’s blocks</span>. +</p> +<p>2. The head.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Block</span>, sense 2. +</p> +<p class="cit">1823. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Peveril of the Peak</i>, ch. v. (I., p. 67). Were I not to take better care of the wood than you, brother, +there would soon be no more wood about the town than the <span class="sc">barber’s block</span> that’s on your own shoulders. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">A chip of the same old block</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—A man or thing exhibiting the same qualities as he or that with which a +comparison is made. +</p> +<p class="cit">1627. <span class="sc">Sanderson</span>, <i>Serm.</i>, I., 283. Am not I a child of the same Adam, a vessel of the same clay, <span class="sc">a chip of the same block</span>, with him. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1655. <span class="sc">L’Estrange</span>, <i>Charles I.</i>, 126. Episcopacy, which they thought but a great <span class="sc">chip of the old block</span> Popery. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To cut a block with a razor</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—Inconsequent argument; futile endeavour; incongruous application of means +or ability to the end in view. +</p> +<p class="cit">1774. <span class="sc">Goldsmith</span>, <i>Retaliation</i>, 42. ’Twas his fate unemployed or in place, sir, to eat mutton cold and <span class="sc">cut blocks with a razor</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To block a hat</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—To crush a man’s hat over the eyes by a blow; <span class="sc">to bonnet</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blockers.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Block Ornaments</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Block House</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A prison; the house of detention. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cage</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1624. <span class="sc">Capt. Smith</span>, <i>Virginia</i>, III., xi., 85. To stop the disorders of our disorderly Theeues … built a <span class="sc">Block-house</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Block-houses</span>, Prisons, houses of correction, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> [Same definition given as in Grose.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <span class="sc">Murray</span>, <i>New English Dictionary</i>. [Common since <i>c.</i> 1500: of uncertain history. The Ger. equivalent <i lang="de">blockhaus</i> (‘<span lang="de">einen steinen Blockhaus</span>’) is quoted by Grimm, 1557 and 1602; the Du. <i lang="nl">blokhuis</i> is in Kilian, 1599; Fr. <i lang="fr">blocus</i>, generally considered to be the same word, and orig. in same sense, is quoted by +Littré in the 16th c. (<i>Cf.</i>, <i>Bloccuz</i>). So far as evidence goes, the Eng. is thus the earliest; but we should expect it +to be of Du. or Ger. origin. In any case the sense was not originally (as in modern +notion) a house composed of blocks of wood, but one which blocks or obstructs a passage. +The history and age of the Ger. <i lang="de">blockhaus</i> and Fr. <i lang="fr">blocus</i> require more investigation.] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb237">[<a href="#pb237">237</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Block Island Turkey</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—Salted cod-fish. Connecticut and Rhode Island. Slang delights in naming +fish as flesh. For some curious examples, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Two-eyed steak</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Block Ornaments</b>, or <b>Blockers</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. Small pieces of meat of indifferent quality, trimmings from the joints, +etc. Exposed for sale on the blocks or counters of butcher’s shops in cheap neighbourhoods. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <i>Fraser’s Mag.</i>, XXXVII., 396. Forced to substitute a <span class="sc">blocker</span> of meat, with its cheap accompaniment of bread and vegetables … for poultry and rump +steaks. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. I., p. 54. For dinner … they buy <span class="sc">block ornaments</span>, as they call the small, dark-coloured pieces of meat exposed on the cheap butchers’ +blocks or counters. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 516. What they consider a good living is a dinner daily off good <span class="sc">block ornaments</span> (small pieces of meat, discoloured and dirty, but not tainted, usually set for sale +on the butcher’s block). +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Punch</i>, No. 2063, p. 29. And eager-faced women must bargain for tainted <span class="sc">block ornaments</span> still. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Standard</i>, Jan. 20, <i>The Poor at Market</i>. Watching a man who stands with his wife and little girl before a butcher’s shop, +let us see what they have to choose from in buying for the next day’s dinner. On the +shelves set out in front of the shop meat scraps are offered at 3½d. the lb.; better +scraps (or <span class="sc">block ornaments</span>, as they are termed) at 4d.; somewhat shapeless small joints of beef from inferior +parts at 5d., one coarse shoulder of mutton at the same; tolerably good-looking meat +at 6d.; mutton chops at 7d. and 8d.; and rump steak at 10d. +</p> +<p>2. Applied to individuals, a <span class="sc">block ornament</span> signifies a queer looking man or woman—one odd in appearance. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bloke</b> or <b>Bloak</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A man; a fellow. In saying ‘not strictly “a man” as Hotten defines it, +but a man in a contemptuous sense,’ Barrère is himself wide of the mark. The word +may <i>sometimes</i> be used contemptuously; but, generally speaking, any idea of reproach or praise is +absent, and a <span class="sc">bloke</span> means a man pure and simple. In witness whereof are the following examples of its +use. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, III., p. 397. If we met an old <span class="sc">bloke</span> (man) we propped him. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Snowden</span>, <i>Mag. Assistant</i>, 3 ed., p. 446. A gentleman.—A <span class="sc">bloak</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Sala</span>, <i>The Baddington Peerage</i>, II., p. 49. My old <span class="sc">bloke</span>! +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <span class="sc">Kingsley</span>, in <i>Macmillan’s Mag.</i>, Dec, 96. Little better than <span class="sc">blokes</span> and boodles after all. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <span class="sc">Ouida</span>, <i>Held in Bondage</i>, bk. I., p. 245. The girl is stunning, the <span class="sc">blokes</span> say, so we must forgive you. +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, in <i>Temple Bar</i>, XIII., 483. The society of the aged <span class="sc">bloke</span> is apt to pull upon the youthful intellect. +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <span class="sc">J. Greenwood</span>, <i>Seven Curses of London</i>. It came out in the course of the evidence that the meaning of the word <span class="sc">bloke</span> was ‘a man whom a woman might pick up in the street.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1873. <span class="sc">Robinson</span>, <i>Little Kate Kirby</i>, I., p. 136. ‘Give us a horder then, old <span class="sc">bloke</span>,’ shrieked another gamin. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1875. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘Keep it Dark.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">I have heard though may be it isn’t a fact, </p> +<p class="line xd33e40098">Keep it dark! </p> +<p class="line">That the present Lord Chancellor’s going to be sacked, +</p> +<p class="line xd33e40098">Keep it dark! </p> +<p class="line">And Dr. Kenealy, that popular <span class="sc">bloke</span>, </p> +<p class="line">That extremely warm member, the member for Stoke, </p> +<p class="line">Is about to succeed him, the lawyers to choke— </p> +<p class="line xd33e40110">But, keep it dark! </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit"><i>c.</i> 1869. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘Shooting the Moon.’ Spoken—Yes, and I used to do very well, until some ragged young +urchin said to his pal, don’t you varder, don’t you know that ere <span class="sc">bloke</span>, that’s the <span class="sc">bloke</span> we saw the other day with a barrow. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb238">[<a href="#pb238">238</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily News</i>, May 15, p. 7, col. 2. ‘When you are coming out into the yard ask the next <span class="sc">bloke</span> to change numbers with you.’ +</p> +<p>In each case the ‘face value’ of the word appears to be simply ‘a man,’ and in spite +of Barrère’s assertion that ‘in the police newspapers twenty-five years ago a <span class="sc">bloke</span> was a victim of sharps, a stupid person, a greenhorn,’ the evidence is all the other +way; in one instance, indeed, the individual in question is reported to be ‘a gentleman.’ +As regards derivation, its origin is uncertain. Hotten and Ogilvie compare it with +the Hindustanee <i>loke</i>, a man; while Leland traces it to ‘the Dutch <i lang="nl">blok</i>, a log, a fool.’ For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cove</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blood</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A fop; dandy; buck; or ‘fast’ man. Originally in common use, but now obsolete. +[From that legitimate sense of the word which attributes the seat of the passions +and emotions to the blood. Hence, a man of spirit; one who is worth mention, and, +in an inferior sense, he who makes himself notorious, whether by dress or rowdyism.] +In the last century, especially during the regency of George IV., the term was largely +in vogue to denote a young man of good birth or social standing about town; subsequently, +it came to mean a riotous, disorderly fellow. +</p> +<p class="cit">1562. <span class="sc">Bulleyn</span>, <i>Sicke Men</i>, etc., 73<i>a</i>. A lustie <span class="sc">blood</span>, or a pleasaunte brave young roister. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1606. <span class="sc">John Day</span>, <i>Ile of Gulls</i>, Act i., p. 9. <i>Basil.</i> Welcome gallants, welcome honord <span class="sc">bloods</span>. <i>Ibid.</i> To which effect we have sent a generall challenge to all the youthfull <span class="sc">bloods</span> of Africa. +</p> +<p class="cit">1752. <i>Adventurer</i>, No. 15. Our heroes of liberty, whether Bucks or <span class="sc">Bloods</span>, or of whatever other denomination, when by some creditor of slavish principles they +have been locked up in a prison, never yet petitioned to be hanged. +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Jack Sheppard</i> [1889], p. 21. ‘Trenchard!’ he muttered—‘Aliva Trenchard. They were right, then, +as to the name. Well, if she survives the accident—as the <span class="sc">blood</span> who styles himself Sir Cecil fancies she may do—this ring will make my fortune by +leading to the discovery of the chief parties concerned in this strange affair.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1846. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>V. Fair</i>, ch. x. A perfect and celebrated <span class="sc">blood</span>, or dandy about town, was this young officer. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Barry Lyndon</i>, ch. ii., p. 36. The modern <span class="sc">bloods</span> have given up the respectful ceremonies which distinguished a gentleman in my time. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—Money. [A comparison of blood, as the vital principle, to money, as that +upon which the sustenance of life depends—the ‘sinews of war,’ the ‘needful,’ etc.] +For all synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Actual</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">Dodsley</span>, <i>Collection of Poems</i>, III., 199. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">He sticks to gaming, as the surer trade; </p> +<p class="line">Turns downright sharper, lives by sucking <span class="sc">blood</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1872. <span class="sc">M. E. Braddon</span>, <i>Dead Sea Fruit</i>, ch. iv. ‘A man who ought to consider himself uncommonly fortunate never to have +known what it was to be hard up, or to have a pack of extravagant sons sucking his +<span class="sc">blood</span>, like so many modern vampires.’ +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (familiar).—To deplete of money; to victimise; a figurative usage of ‘to bleed’; +<i>i.e.</i>, surgically, to let or draw blood by opening a vein. <i>Cf.</i>, <i>subs.</i>, sense 2, and <span class="sc">Bleed</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">Hawley Smart</span>, <i>From Post to Finish</i>, p. 187. ‘He is very likely to want a thousand pounds at any moment. There’s a leaven +of the old squire in his composition, and I recollect hearing that he was <span class="sc">blooded</span> over the Phaeton Leger.’ ‘You surely can’t mean that he <span class="pageNum" id="pb239">[<a href="#pb239">239</a>]</span>has taken to racing? Why, you must be aware that he has no money for anything of that +sort.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blood and Entrails</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—The British ensign is so nicknamed by Yankee sailors; English salts return +the compliment by jokingly speaking of the American flag as <span class="sc">the gridiron and doughboys</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blood and Thunder</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A beverage of port wine and brandy mixed. Port is the <span class="sc">blood</span>, from its colour; brandy the <span class="sc">thunder</span>—the combined effects being, it is held, provocative of ‘thundering’ head-aches. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blood and Thunder Tales</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (originally American, now common).—Low class fiction, the term being generally applied +to works dealing with the exploits of desperadoes, cut-throats, and other criminals. +Also called <span class="sc">Awfuls</span>, <span class="sc">Penny dreadfuls</span>, <span class="sc">Gutter literature</span>, <span class="sc">Shilling shockers</span>, etc., all of which <i>see</i> for further illustrations. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <i>Portland Transcript</i>, May. Here let me say one word to the <i>Transcript</i> mothers. Look carefully to your child’s reading matter. Beware of the cheap, trashy +romances, the <span class="sc">blood and thunder tales</span> by Tom, Dick and Harry, which fill the counters of so many of our bookstores. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily News</i>, March 26, p. 2, col. 3. The <span class="sc">blood and thunder</span> tragedies generally associated with the transpontine drama. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blood-an’-’Ouns</b>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—An abbreviated form of an old and blasphemous oath—‘God’s blood and wounds!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Jack Sheppard</i> [1889], p. 58. ‘Och! if he’s a friend o’ yours, my dear joy, there’s no more to be +said; and right sorry am I I struck him. But, <span class="sc">blood-an’-’ouns!</span> man, if ould Nick himself were to hit me a blow, I’d be afther givin’ him another.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blood-Curdler</b> or <b>Blood-Freezer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A narration or incident which ‘makes the flesh creep’; that which stirs +one’s feelings strongly, and generally repulsively. Said of a sensational murder, +a thrilling ghost-story, etc. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blood and thunder tales</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blood for Blood</b>, <i>phr.</i> (trade).—When tradesmen exchange wares, setting the cost of one kind off against +another instead of making payment in currency, they are said to give <span class="sc">blood for blood</span>. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blood</span>. (1) the vital fluid; (2) money—hence applied to that upon the sale of which a man +is dependent for a livelihood. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> A hatter furnishing a hosier with a hat, and taking payment in stockings, is said +to deal <span class="sc">blood for blood</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blood-Freezer.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blood-curdler</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blood-Red Fancy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (pugilistic).—A particular kind of handkerchief sometimes worn by pugilists and frequenters +of prize fights.—<i>See</i> <b>Billy</b>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Snowden</span>, <i>Mag. Assistant</i>, 3 ed., p. 446. Red silk handkerchief. <span class="sc">Blood-red fancy.</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blood Suckers</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—The Sixty-third Regiment of Foot. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blood-Tub</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A rowdy; a blustering bully; a rough. This nickname was peculiar to Baltimore, +which city, <span class="pageNum" id="pb240">[<a href="#pb240">240</a>]</span>perhaps of all cities in the Union, enjoyed, for a time, an unenviable reputation +on account of the rowdyism of a section of its inhabitants. More or less, however, +these turbulent gangs infest all the more important centres of population, and answer +in many respects to the English ‘roughs.’ They are recruited largely from the labouring +and commercial population; they drink, and swear, but commit no crime, save an occasional +deed of violence in times when excitement runs unusually high, and are for the most +part affiliated with one or other of the two political parties, the Republicans or +Democrats. They are known as Dead Rabbits in New York, Moyamensing Hounds in Philadelphia, +<span class="sc">Blood-tubs</span> in Baltimore, where at other times they have also been designated Babes, Plug-uglies, +and Ashlanders. The <span class="sc">Blood-tubs</span> are reported to have been mostly butchers, and to have got their epithet from having, +on an election day, dipped an obnoxious German’s head in a tub of warm blood, and +then driven him running through the town<span id="xd33e40442">.</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">18(?). <i>Song of the Irish Legion.</i> +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">Blood-tubs</span> and plug-uglies, and others galore, </p> +<p class="line">Are sick for a thrashing in sweet Baltimore; </p> +<p class="line">Be jabers! that same I’d be proud to inform </p> +<p class="line">Of the terrible force of an Irishman’s arm. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bloody</b>, <i>adj.</i> (low).—An epithet difficult to define, and used in a multitude of vague and varying +senses. Most frequently, however, as it falls with wearisome reiteration every two +or three seconds from the mouths of London roughs of the lowest type, no special meaning, +much less a sanguinary one, can be attached to its use. In such a case it forms a +convenient intensitive, sufficiently important as regards sound to satisfy those whose +lack of language causes them to fall back upon a frequent use of words of this type. +Bloody occasionally carries with it a suspicion of anger, resentment, or detestation. +[For suggested derivations, and some incidental illustrative examples, <i>see</i> adverbial usage, which follows.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">R. Dana</span>, <i>Bef. Mast</i>, ii., 2. You’ll find me a <span class="sc">bloody</span> rascal. <i>Ibid</i>, xx., 61. They’ve got a man for a mate of that ship, and not a <span class="sc">bloody</span> sheep about decks. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Ruskin</span>, <i>Fiction, Fair and F.</i>, § 29. The use of the word <span class="sc">bloody</span> in modern low English is a deeper corruption, not altering the form of the word, +but defiling the thought in it. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p><i>Adv.</i> (low).—Among the vulgar at the present day <span class="sc">bloody</span>, used adverbially, says G. A. Sala [<i>Notes and Queries</i>, 4 S., i., Feb. 8, 1868], simply qualifies the superlative and excessive. Admiral +Gambier, who is said to have introduced ‘tea and piety’ into the navy, very properly +discountenanced the practice so long common to naval officers of d——g the sailors’ +eyes while they were reefing topsails. His tars, scarcely grateful, nicknamed the +admiral ‘Old Bloody Politeful.’ The lower classes use <span class="sc">bloody</span> indifferently as a term of depreciation or appreciation. Thus, it’s a <span class="sc">bloody</span> shame; and <i>per contra</i> in a flash song, the poet (supposed to be languishing in prison) recounts that the +chaplain discoursed to the inmates— +<span class="pageNum" id="pb241">[<a href="#pb241">241</a>]</span></p> +<div class="lgouter"> +<p class="line">‘How Jonah lived inside of a whale, </p> +<p class="line">’Twas a <span class="sc">bloody</span> sight better than county gaol.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first">As regards derivation, dual causes seem to have operated in the evolution of <span class="sc">bloody</span> in its depraved sense. The various stages are summarised by Murray, in so far as +evidence will permit, as follows. The origin is not quite certain; but there is good +reason to think that it was at first a reference to the habits of the ‘bloods’ or +aristocratic rowdies of the end of the 17th and beginning of the 18th c. The phrase +‘<span class="sc">bloody</span> drunk’ was apparently = ‘as drunk as a blood’ (<i>Cf.</i>, ‘as drunk as a lord’); thence it was extended to kindred expressions, and at length +to others; probably in later times, its associations with bloodshed and murder (<i>Cf.</i>, a <span class="sc">bloody</span> battle, a <span class="sc">bloody</span> butcher) have recommended it to the rough classes as a word that appeals to their +imagination. We may compare the prevalent craving for impressive or graphic intensives, +seen in the use of <i>jolly</i>, <i>awfully</i>, <i>terribly</i>, <i>devilish</i>, <i>deuced</i>, <i>damned</i>, <i>ripping</i>, <i>rattling</i>, <i>thumping</i>, <i>stunning</i>, <i>thundering</i>, etc. There is no ground for the notion that <span class="sc">bloody</span>, offensive as from association it now is to ears polite, contains any profane allusion, +or has connection with the oath ‘’sblood!’ In this particular it may be noted that +Mr. C. G. Leland is in error when he says ‘Mr. Hotten thinks this is an expletive +without reference to <i>any</i> [italics not in original] meaning.’ Mr. Hotten neither said nor implied anything +of the kind, but just the reverse; and Mr. Leland has hung his remarks upon a misquotation. +Hotten’s exact words are ‘<span class="sc">bloody</span>, an expletive used, without reference to meaning, as an adjective and an adverb, +simply for intensification’—a very different thing; <i>ergo</i> as far as Hotten goes he is absolutely correct. +</p> +<p>There seems little doubt, however, that the association of <span class="sc">bloody</span> with bloodshed and murder has had a very large influence in determining its present +bad signification in the mouth of a cockney of the lower classes. It is noteworthy, +too, that the German <i lang="de">blutig</i> is sometimes used, says H. Tiedeman [<i>N. and Q.</i>, 4 S., i., Feb. 8, 1868], in the same manner as the London <span class="sc">bloody</span>:—While living in Dresden, I heard many times uttered such phrases as— +</p> +<div class="lgouter"> +<p lang="de" class="line">‘Ich habe keinen <i>blutigen</i> Heller mehr,’ </p> +<p class="line">[I have no <span class="sc">bloody</span> penny or ‘red cent’ more], </p> +</div> +<p class="first">for ‘I have not a single penny left,’ etc. Was, then, the Dresden <i lang="de">blutig</i> introduced to the London mob in the shape of <span class="sc">bloody</span>? The Dutch <i lang="nl">bloedig</i> may be used figuratively, just as the French <i lang="fr">sanglant</i>. <i lang="fr">Une injure sanglante</i> might be translated by ‘<i lang="nl">een bloedige beleediging</i>.’ It might, and it is in fact, sometimes used to qualify an adjective. To say ‘<i lang="nl">bloedig schoon</i>’ (literally, ‘bloody beautiful’), would be perfectly correct, but then it has not +the sense of <i>exceedingly</i>; it keeps its original meaning. ‘<i lang="nl">Bloedig schoon</i>’ could not be rendered otherwise than by <i>sanguinary</i> and <i>beautiful</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1676. <span class="sc">Sir G. Etheredge</span>, <i>Man of Mode</i> (Act i., Sc. 1), p. 186, ed. 1723. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Dor.</i> Give him half-a-crown. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Med.</i> Not without he will promise to be <span class="sc">bloody</span> drunk. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb242">[<a href="#pb242">242</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1684. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>Prol. Southerne’s Disappointment</i>, line 59. The doughty bullies enter <span class="sc">bloody</span> drunk. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1706. <span class="sc">Farquhar</span>, <i>Recruiting Officer</i>, Act iv., Sc. 1. <i>Plume.</i> Thou art a <span class="sc">bloody</span> impudent fellow. [There is no question of fighting in the context.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1711. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Journal to Stella</i>, 8 May, letter 22. It was <span class="sc">bloody</span> hot walking to-day. +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">M. Scott</span>, <i>Tom Cringle’s Log</i>, ch. ii. ‘I’ve a <span class="sc">bloody</span> great mind to go down with him,’ stuttered another. +</p> +<p>From the foregoing examples the word would appear to have been once in literary use; +it is not now customary to print it in full, but thus, b——y. In passing it may be +mentioned that there is no ground for attributing its derivation to ‘By’r Our Lady.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bloody Back</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A soldier; a nickname alluding to the colour of his coat. [From <span class="sc">bloody</span> = of the colour of blood, <i>i.e.</i>, scarlet or blood-red + <span class="sc">back</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> <span class="sc">Bloody back.</span> A jeering appellation for a soldier. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bloody Chasm.</b> <span class="sc">To bridge the bloody chasm</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—A favourite expression with orators who, during the years immediately +succeeding the Civil War, sought to obliterate the memory of the struggle. The antithetical +phrase is <span class="sc">to wave the bloody shirt</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bloody Eleventh</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military). The Eleventh Regiment of Foot. At the battle of Salamanca, fought with +the French, the corps was nearly cut to pieces, whence its sanguinary sobriquet. At +Fontenoy and Ostend also, it was hard-pressed and nearly annihilated. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bloody Jemmy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—An uncooked sheep’s head.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Sanguinary James</span> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bloody Shirt.</b> <span class="sc">To wave the bloody shirt.</span>—A phrase which is only one of many of a similar character, variants such as ‘to wave +the crimson banner,’ ‘the ensanguined under garment,’ etc., being quite frequently +met with in American journalism. Its origin and history is thus explained in <i>Americanisms, Old and New</i>:—It is a political phrase used in the States to signify the opening anew or keeping +alive of factious strife on party questions. Primarily it was the symbol of those +who, during the Reconstruction period at the close of the rebellion of the Southern +or Confederate States, would not suffer the Civil War to sink into oblivion out of +consideration for the feelings of the vanquished. Perhaps a more odious term never +crept into politics than the <span class="sc">bloody shirt</span>; it is alike distasteful to the sense, brutal and vulgar, and capable of misuse. +There are still those who, in American politics, in the thousand and one points of +difference which continually and inevitably must arise between institutions so diverse +in origin, tradition, and practice as those of the North and South, seek for party +purposes to estrange the one from the other by keeping alive the exciting memories +of the old bitter struggle. When a man is said to have waved the <span class="sc">bloody shirt</span> it is known that he has gone back in spirit and intent to the sorrowful days of the +Republic, when the blue and <span class="pageNum" id="pb243">[<a href="#pb243">243</a>]</span>the grey, each confident of battling for the right, were slaying each other in the +valleys of the South. He ignores the peace which has settled over the old fields of +war, and does not assent to the hand clasp of Federal with Confederate. He tries to +open the strife anew, mocks the spirit of forgiveness, and rakes the old ashes over +in the hunt for a burning coal. He scoffs at those who fought against the Union, and, +because they have come back to it, calls them insincere. He rebukes the veteran who +forgave them when together they laid down their arms. This is called <span class="sc">waving the bloody shirt</span>, and to-day, when many of those now in active life cannot remember the time when +the Rebellion had closed, and the boys were marching home, there are legislators and +journalists who devote their efforts to stirring up a sectional hatred which without +these efforts would be but a tradition. Many Southerners keenly resent the spirit +which thus traduces the now loyal South, and declares it hypocritical. The <span class="sc">bloody shirters</span>, as they are called, rail at the decency which forgives and forgets, and with venomous +tongues revile alike those who fell in the lost cause, those who lived to repent, +and those who would grant pardon. So long as men lost to honour will do this the action +must have a name—it will be called <span class="sc">waving the bloody shirt</span>. From this special meaning it is now passing into general use to indicate similar +tactics in regard to any cause. It has recently been introduced into English journalism +in connection with the Irish struggle, and the ‘Unionist Party’ has been accused of +<span class="sc">waving the bloody shirt</span>—with how much truth or the reverse there is here no concern. The origin of the expression +is to be sought in a Corsican custom now nearly, if not quite, obsolete. In the days +of the fierce <i lang="it">vendette</i>—the feuds which divided the Corsicans, family from family, bloodshed was a common +occurrence. Before the burial of a murdered man, the <i lang="it">gridata</i> was celebrated. This word, which literally means a crying aloud, may be translated +‘a wake.’ The body of the victim was laid upon a plank; his useless firearms were +placed near his hand, and his blood-stained shirt was hung above his head. Around +the rude bier sat a circle of women, wrapped in their black mantles, who rocked themselves +to and fro with strange wailings. The men, relatives and friends of the murdered man, +fully armed stood around the room, mad with thirst for revenge. Then one of the women—the +wife or mother or sister of the dead man—with a sharp scream would snatch the <span class="sc">bloody shirt</span>, and waving it aloft begin the <i lang="it">vocero</i>—the lamentation. This rhythmic discourse was made up of alternate expressions of +love for the dead, and hatred of his enemies; and its startling images and tremendous +curses were echoed in the faces and amidst the mutterings of the armed mourners. Its +application to American politics <span class="pageNum" id="pb244">[<a href="#pb244">244</a>]</span>is credited to Mr. Oliver P. Morton, who, elected United States senator in 1867, and +again in 1873, took a prominent part as a leader of the more radical Republicans, +favouring a stern policy of coercion in the reconstruction of the Southern States. +He was one of the Presidential Candidates at the Cincinnati Convention of 1876, his +name standing second on the first ballot. Happily, however, his opinions were too +pronounced to unite the factions of his party, and the ultimate choice fell upon Mr. +Hayes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Coldwater</i> (Mich.) <i>Sun</i>, Jan. The <span class="sc">bloody shirt</span> is gradually fading away. The white-winged dove of peace spreads her wings here and +there, patriotism forgets and forgives old differences, sectionalism is gradually +giving way to love of country—the whole country. In fact the ill-feeling between the +North and South would have died out years ago among the veterans of both sections, +had they been left to themselves, and the politicians been as patriotic as they. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>New York Weekly Times</i>, Mar. 21. It is reprehensible to the last degree for the Bourbons of the South to +continue to play on the colour line—the Southern <span class="sc">bloody shirt</span>—and then denounce Republican extremists for doing the same thing at the North. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bloomer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Australian prison slang).—A mistake. Said to be an abbreviated form of ‘blooming +error.’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blooming</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blooming</b>, often <b>Bloomin’</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (common).—This word, similar in type to ‘blessed,’ ‘blamed,’ and other words of the +kind, is, as used by the lower classes, a euphemism for <span class="sc">bloody</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), but it is also frequently employed as a mere meaningless intensitive. Like the +last-named word, little count is taken of its exact primary meaning. Its slang use +may be traced to that figurative sense of the orthodox word, which signifies ‘in the +bloom of health and beauty,’ ‘in the prime,’ ‘flourishing,’ etc. Some uncertainty +exists as to the origin of this not over-ornamental addition to our expletive vocabulary. +If the word is used by Granvil (<i>see</i> quot.) in its modern sense, then the phrase is very much older than has hitherto +been imagined. Barring this, it would seem that we are indebted for it to the Californian +coast, although there is little doubt that the chief instrument in its acclimatization +in England was Mr. Alfred G. Vance, the comic singer, well-known in connection with +‘Jolly dogs,’ and other extensively popular music-hall songs. As before stated, it +has very largely supplanted ‘bloody’; <span class="sc">bally</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) is also used in the same manner. Its applications are manifold. One is requested +not to make any <span class="sc">blooming</span> mistake or error; another ‘showing off,’ or ‘putting on side,’ is told not to be +so <span class="sc">blooming</span> flash; an excessively stupid man is spoken of as a <span class="sc">blooming</span> idiot; and an inquisitive individual is told more forcibly than politely, perhaps, +‘you asks me no <span class="sc">bloomin’</span> imper’int questions, an’ I tells yer no <span class="sc">bloomin’</span> lies.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1726. <span class="sc">Rev. J. Granvil</span>, <i lang="la">Sadducismus triumphatus</i> [under the head of ‘The Demon of Tedworth’ (1661). Granvil makes mention that on +one occasion the spirit came into a room panting like a dog, and] company coming up, +the room was presently filled with a <span class="sc">blooming</span> noisome smell. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb245">[<a href="#pb245">245</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">18(?). <span class="sc">Colonel John Hay</span>, <i>Ballad</i>, ‘The Mystery of Gilgal.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">He went for his ’leven inch bowie knife: </p> +<p class="line">I tries to foller a Christian life, </p> +<p class="line">But I’ll drop a slice of liver or two, </p> +<p class="line">My <span class="sc">bloomin’</span> shrub, with you. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1887. <span class="sc">G. R. Sims</span>, <i>Dagonet Ballads</i> (<i>Told to the Missionary</i>). ‘I feels like a <span class="sc">bloomin’</span> babby—I gets so infernal weak.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. iii., p. 222. ‘Afore that I worked in the galleries, a making the casemates +for the guns, and <span class="sc">blooming</span> hard work it was.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Punch’s Almanac</i>, p. 4. <span class="sc">The Steam Launch in Venice</span> (‘<span lang="la">Sic Transit Gloria Mundi</span>’)—<i>’Andsome ’Arriet</i>: ‘Ow my! If it ’yn’t that <span class="sc">bloomin’</span> old Temple Bar, as they did aw’y with out o’ Fleet Street!’ <i>Mr. Belleville</i> (referring to guide book): ‘Now it ’yn’t. It’s the fymous Bridge o’ <i>Sighs</i>, as Byron went and stood on; ’im as wrote ‘Our Boys,’ yer know!’ <i>’Andsome ’Arriet</i>: ‘Well, I <i>never</i>!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Jas. Greenwood</span>, <i>Flyfaker’s Hotel</i>, in <i>Odd People in Odd Places</i>, p. 59. ‘Who’s got any music?’ presently exclaimed the dirty scoundrel who had been +mending the boxing-glove; ‘—— me, let’s have a <span class="sc">bloomin’</span> lark! Let’s have a tune and a song. Who’s got any <span class="sc">bloomin’</span> music?’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">W. C. Russell</span>, <i>Jack’s Courtship</i>, ch. xxxviii. ‘And if there’s fire there ought to be nothen to stop us from cooking +a <span class="sc">bloomin’</span> old goat.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Ally Sloper</i>, July 6. Injured Innocence: <i>Indignant Son of Labour</i>. Well, I’m blowed! If that ’ere <span class="sc">bloomin’</span> swell ain’t a-himitatin’ me! +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bloss</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old, and American thieves’).—A generic name for a woman, whether girl, wife, or +mistress. Probably from an attributive sense of ‘blossom.’ For example, Shakspeare, +in <i>Titus <span class="corr" id="xd33e40974" title="Source: Andromicus">Andronicus</span></i> [1588, iv., 2, 72], employs it in the sense of one lovely and full of promise. ‘Sweet +<span class="sc">blowse</span> you are a beautious <span class="sc">blossome</span> sure.’ Tennyson also [1847] in the <i>Princess</i> [v., 79] uses the expression, ‘My babe, my <span class="sc">blossom</span>, ah, my child!’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blowen</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bloss</span> (cant), the pretended wife of a bully or shop-lifter. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>New York Slang Dictionary</i>, ‘Slang Stories,’ p. 42. ‘Why, Bell, is it yourself? Tip us your daddle, my bene +mort. May I dance at my death, and grin in a class-case, if I didn’t think you had +been put to bed with a shovel.…’ ‘No, Jim, I only piked into Grassville with a dimber-damber, +who couldn’t pad the hoof for a single darkman’s without his <span class="sc">bloss</span> to keep him from getting pogy.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blot the Scrip</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (old).—To put an undertaking into writing; the modern phrase is ‘to put it in black +and white.’ Hence +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To blot the scrip and jark it</span> (old), <i>i.e.</i>, to stand engaged, or bound for anyone.—<i>Grose.</i> <span class="sc">Jark</span> means a seal, and in Oxford slang, a safe conduct pass; in the former sense it is +retained in the patter of modern American thieves, a synonym being <span class="sc">jasker</span>. Jarkman is the name given in America to a begging letter writer, whose accomplishments +in this respect are varied by the production of false characters for servants, and +other documents of a kindred nature. This is a case, like many others, in which old +English cant terms have, across the Atlantic, been invested with a new meaning. Formerly +a jarkman was equivalent to an ‘Abram-man,’ <i>i.e.</i>, a licensed beggar. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bloviate</b>, <i>verb</i> (American).—To talk aimlessly and boastingly; to indulge in ‘high falutin’. [A factitious +word probably founded on the verb <span class="sc">blow</span>, sense 1, on the model of ‘deviate.’] Said to have been in use since 1850. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb246">[<a href="#pb246">246</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Blow</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. A shilling. +</p> +<p>Amongst <span class="sc">Synonyms</span> for this coin are beong; borde; button; deaner or deener; bob; bobstick (old slang); +breaky-leg; gen (this forms part of the so-called back slang); hog; levy; peg; stag; +teviss; twelver; touch-me (this is an abbreviated form of touch-me-on-the-nob, rhyming +slang for bob or shilling); Abraham’s willing (also rhyming slang for a shilling). +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <b>J. W. Horsley</b>, in <i>Macm. Mag.</i>, XL., 501. But afterwards I got 3s. 9d., and then four <span class="sc">blow</span>. <i>Ibid.</i> I went to the Steel (Bastile—Coldbath Fields Prison), having a new suit of clobber +on me and about fifty <span class="sc">blow</span> in my brigh (pocket). +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, Feb. 5, p. 2, col. 6. They said they could sell some for five <span class="sc">blows</span> (shillings), and that he could easily make £158 of the stuff. +</p> +<p>2. (Old University.)—A drunken frolic; a spree. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blow-out</span>, <i>subs.</i> For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Jamboree</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—1. To boast; to brag; to ‘gas’—generally to talk boastfully or self-assertingly of +oneself or one’s affairs. In this sense <span class="sc">to blow</span>, long dialectically current, is now regarded as slang. It is also associated with +the idea of angry speech, ‘storming,’ ‘fuming.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blow up</span>, and for synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Gas</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1400. <i>Apol. Loll.</i>, 97. <span class="sc">Blouing</span> veynly wip fleschli wit. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1519. <i>Four Elements</i>, in Hazl. <i>Dodsley</i>, I., 41. Why, man, what aileth thee so to <span class="sc">blow</span>? [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Burns</span>, <i>Epistle to J. Lapraik</i>, st. 16. I winna <span class="sc">blaw</span> about mysel; As ill I like my fauts to tell. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Graphic</i>, Jan. 27, p. 79, col. i. The whole team has taught Australia not to <span class="sc">blow</span> (as they say)—a not unneeded lesson. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Mrs. Campbell Praed</span>, <i>Sketches of Australian Life</i>, p. 45. ‘He was famous for his coolness and daring, and for <span class="sc">blowing</span>, in Australian parlance, both of his exploits and of his “bonnes fortunes.” ’ +</p> +<p>2. (general.)—To inform; to expose; to betray; to peach. <i>Cf.</i>, also <span class="sc">Blow upon</span> and <span class="sc">Blow the gab</span>. [This is a transferred sense of blow = to breathe out; to give forth by breathing; +hence, to sound a signal on an instrument; to blaze abroad as by a trumpet.] For synonyms, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Peach</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1575. <i>Appius and Virg.</i>, in Hazl. <i>Dodsley</i>, IV., 136. Was all well agreed? did nobody <span class="sc">blow</span> ye? [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1721. <span class="sc">Defoe</span>, <i>History of Colonel Jack</i>. ‘As for that,’ says Will, ‘I could tell it well enough, if I had it, but I must +not be seen anywhere among my old acquaintances, for I am <span class="sc">blown</span>, and they will all betray me.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Blow</span> (v.) … also to discover the secrets of another; also when a person undervalues or +slights a person or thing, he is said to <span class="sc">blow</span> upon it. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>a.</i> 1859. <span class="sc">L. Hunt</span>, <i>Country Lodgings</i>, in <i>Casquet Lit.</i> (1877), I., p. 42, col. 1. D—n me, if I don’t <span class="sc">blow</span> … I’ll tell Tom Neville, [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>3. (American.)—To lie; and in a slightly less opprobrious sense to ‘gas’ so much as +to be perilously near the border-line which separates boasting exaggeration from absolute +untruth. +</p> +<p>4. (general.)—Frequently employed euphemistically for ‘to damn’—generally in the imperative.—<span class="sc">Blow it!</span> <i>i.e.</i>, ‘hang it’! or damn it! <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blowed</span>, with which it is closely allied in all senses. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">C. Kingsley</span>, <i>Alton Locke</i>, ch. ii. ‘Well, if you won’t stand a pot,’ quoth the tall man, ‘I will, that’s all, +and <span class="sc">blow</span> temperance.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb247">[<a href="#pb247">247</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Golden Calf</i>, ch. xxvi. ‘<span class="sc">Blow</span> his station in life! If he was a duke I shouldn’t want him.’ +</p> +<p>5. (general.)—To lose or spend money. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blue</span>. +</p> +<p>6. (University.)—To indulge in a frolic or spree. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blow out</span>; also <span class="sc">To go on the blow</span>. +</p> +<p>7. (Winchester School.)—To blush. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To bite the blow</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old cant).—To steal goods; to <span class="sc">Prig</span>, which <i>see</i> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blow a Cloud</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (colloquial).—To smoke a cigar or pipe; Hotten says, ‘a phrase used two centuries +ago’ but gives no authority, and Murray’s earliest example only dates from 1855, but +as will be seen below, it occurs in <i>Tom Crib</i> in 1819. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress</i>, p. 39. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line xd33e2810">… His fame I need not tell, </p> +<p class="line">For that, my friends, all England’s loud with; </p> +<p class="line">But this I’ll say, a civiller Swell </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">I’d never wish to <span class="sc">blow a cloud</span> with. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1870. <span class="sc">M. Twain</span>, <i>Innocents Abroad</i>, ch. vii. And <span class="sc">blowing</span> suffocating ‘<span class="sc">clouds</span>’ and boisterously performing at dominoes in the smoking-room at night. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Tubons en une</i> (popular: ‘let’s blow a cloud’; <i lang="fr">tuber</i> = to smoke); <i lang="fr">piper</i>; <i lang="fr">la fumerie</i> (popular: smoking); <i lang="fr">faire du brouillard</i> (‘to produce or make a fog or mist’); <i lang="fr">en bourrer une</i>; <i lang="fr">bouffarder</i>. A <span class="sc">German Synonym</span> is <i lang="de">Esef schwächen</i>, or <i lang="de">schweihen</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blow-Book</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A book containing indelicate or ‘smutty’ pictures. +</p> +<p class="cit">1708. <i>Post Man</i>, 8 June. Last Sunday a person did pennance in the Chapter-House of St. Paul’s, London, +for publickly shewing in Bartholomew Fair a book called a <span class="sc">blow-book</span>, in which were many obscene and filthy pictures: the book was likewise burnt, and +the person paid costs. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blowed.</b> <span class="sc">To be blowed</span>, <i>verb</i> (familiar).—<span class="sc">Blowed</span> is here a euphemism for ‘damned’; to all intents and purposes, it is frequently little +more than a thinly-veiled oath. Hotten says that Tom Hood used to tell the following +story:—‘I was once asked to contribute to a new journal, not exactly gratuitously, +but at a very small advance upon nothing—and avowedly because the work had been planned +according to that estimate. However, I accepted the terms conditionally—that is to +say, provided the principle could be properly carried out. Accordingly, I wrote to +my butcher, baker, and other tradesmen, informing them that it was necessary, for +the sake of cheap literature and the interest of the reading public, that they should +furnish me with their several commodities at a very trifling per-centage above cost +price. It will be sufficient to quote the answer of the butcher:—“Sir,—Respectin’ +your note, Cheap literater <span class="sc">be blowed!</span> Butchers must live as well as other pepel—and if so be you or the readin’ publick +wants to have meat at prime cost, you must buy your own beastesses, and kill yourselves.—I +remain, etc., John Stokes.” ’ +</p> +<p><i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blow me!</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Sketches by Boz</i>, p. 50. Others remonstrating with the said Thomas Sludberry, on the impropriety of +his conduct, the said Thomas Sludberry repeated the aforesaid expression, ‘<span class="sc">You be blowed</span>.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb248">[<a href="#pb248">248</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1863. <span class="sc">Jeaffreson</span>, <i>Live It Down</i>, III., p. 249. (Cries of ‘Chair, Chair,’ and ‘Order, order.’) ‘Order <span class="sc">be blowed</span>!’ exclaimed the infuriated Mr. H. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Our Mutual Friend</i>, bk. II., ch. v. ‘<span class="sc">Holiday be blowed!</span>’ said Fledgely, entering, ‘What have <i>you</i> got to do with holidays?’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. iii., p. 244. ‘No,’ says she, ‘we’ve got some more besides that, and enough, +too, to take us to France. <span class="sc">Blowed</span>, old man, if we don’t go to Paris, and there we can get £300 for them.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <i>Punch’s Almanac</i>, p. 7. Seasonable Slang. For Spring.—<span class="sc">You be blowed!</span> For Summer.—I’ll warm yer! For Autumn.—Not so blooming green! For Winter.—An ice +little game all round. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Ally Sloper’s H. H.</i>, Aug. 3, p. 242, col. 2. ‘<span class="sc">Blowed</span> if I’d have made her Mrs. Juggins, if I’d have known she wor going to make a footstool +of me!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blowen</b> or <b>Blowing</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old.)—This word appears to have passed through a series of ups and downs in the +course of its career. Originally signifying a woman, without special reference to +moral character, it subsequently came to mean a showy courtesan, or a prostitute. +It still retains the latter meaning, but is frequently used in a more complimentary +sense than heretofore to signify a finely built handsome girl. In America among the +criminal classes it is only used to designate a mistress. Its derivation is extremely +uncertain, the two most important suggestions being that it comes (1) from the reputation +having been ‘blown upon’; and (2) that in Wilts <span class="sc">blowen</span> signifies a blossom—hence <span class="sc">blowen</span> a flower; a pet. +</p> +<p class="cit">1688. <span class="sc">Shadwell</span>, <i>Sq. of Alsatia</i>, I., in wks. (1720) IV., 17. What ogling there will be between thee and the <span class="sc">blowings</span>! +</p> +<p class="cit">1789. <span class="sc">Geo. Parker</span>, <i>Life’s Painter</i>, p. 143. <span class="sc">Blowen</span>, a woman. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dict.</i> <span class="sc">Blowen</span>, a prostitute: a woman who cohabits with a man without marriage. +</p> +<p class="cit">1847. <span class="sc">Lytton</span>, <i>Lucretia</i>, pt. II., ch. ii. ‘If she’s a good girl, and loves you, she’ll not let you spend +your money on her.’ ‘I haint such a ninny as that,’ said Beck, with majestic contempt. +‘I ’spises the flat that is done brown by the <span class="sc">blowens</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">C. Kingsley</span>, <i>Yeast</i>, ch. xi. Why don’t they have a short simple service now and then, that might catch +the ears of the roughs and the <span class="sc">blowens</span>, without tiring out the poor thoughtless creatures’ patience, as they do now? +</p> +<p>For synonyms in the sense of prostitute, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack-hack</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blower</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A girl; a contemptuous name in opposition to <span class="sc">jomer</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); given by Grose [1785]. +</p> +<p>2. (American and Colonial.)—A good talker; a boaster; a ‘gas-bag.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blow</span>, <i>verb</i>, sense 1. +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <span class="sc">Manhattan</span>, in <i>Evening Standard</i>, 10 Dec. General Grant … is not one of the <span class="sc">blower</span> generals. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Spectator</i>, 22 Oct., 1202, col. 1. Notorious among our bar and the public as a <span class="sc">blower</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <span class="sc">De Vere</span>, <i>Americanisms</i>, p. 584. ‘You need not <i>blow</i> so, my friend. I don’t believe a word of what you say.’ Hence also the noun <span class="sc">blower</span>, a braggart, with special reference to his success in imitating Baron Munchausen. +</p> +<p>3. A pipe. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blow a cloud</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blow Great Guns</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (popular).—To blow a hurricane; a violent gale. Sometimes varied by to <span class="sc">blow great guns and small arms</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Jack Sheppard</i> [1889], 23. ‘Curse me, if I don’t think all the world means to cross the Thames this +fine night!’ observed Ben. ‘One’d think it rained fares as well as <span class="sc">blowed great guns</span>. <span class="pageNum" id="pb249">[<a href="#pb249">249</a>]</span>Why, there’s another party on the stair-head inquiring arter scullers; and, by the +mass! they appear in a greater hurry than any of us.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <span class="sc">H. Miller</span>, <i>Sch. and Schm.</i> (1858), 14. It soon began to <span class="sc">blow great guns</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blowhard</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A Western term of revilement, the precise meaning of which it would be +difficult to explain, since a newcomer may, in one and the same breath, be called +a <span class="sc">blarsted Britisher</span>, a <span class="sc">Coyote</span>, and a <span class="sc">blowhard</span>. If all these are synonymous, then indeed the Englishman in America is in a bad way. +<i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blower</span>, sense 2. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blow Hot and Cold</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (familiar).—To be treacherous; inconsistent; vacillating. There is an allusion in +the expression to one of Æsop’s fables. +</p> +<p class="cit">1577. <span class="sc">W. Bullinger</span>, <i>Decades</i> (1592), 176. One which out of one mouth, doeth <span class="sc">blowe both hoat and colde</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1756. <i>The World</i>, No. 185. This old fellow is of a most capricious, unequal temper, and, like the +satyr in the fable, <span class="sc">blows hot and cold</span> in the same breath. +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">Motley</span>, <i>Dutch Rep.</i>, V., v., 750. Being constantly ordered ‘to <span class="sc">blow hot and cold</span> with the same breath.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blowing Up</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial).—A scolding; a severe reprimand; a jobation.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blow up</span>. The French equivalent is <i lang="fr">affres</i> (<i>fem. pl.</i>), <i>i.e.</i>, ‘agonies.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span>, <i>Letter-Bag Gt. West</i>, IV., 42. I would give him a good <span class="sc">blowing-up</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">Mrs. H. Wood</span>, <i>Johnny Ludlow</i>, 1 S., No. xxv., p. 448. The waves dashed over the pier, ducking the three or four +venturesome spirits who went on there. I was one—and received a good <span class="sc">blowing up</span> from Mr. Brandon for my pains. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blow in One’s Pipe</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (American).—A transatlantic equivalent of to <span class="sc">blow</span> or <span class="sc">blew</span> [one’s money]; <i>i.e.</i>, to spend it. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blow Me!</b> <b>Blow Me Up!</b> <b>Blow Me Tight!</b> <i>intj. phr.</i> (popular).—Expressions which, like <span class="sc">blowed</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), serve either as half-veiled oaths or as merely big sounding but meaningless exclamations. +</p> +<p class="cit">1781. <span class="sc">G. Parker</span>, <i>View of Society</i>, I., 48. ‘<span class="sc">Blow me up</span> (says he) if I have had a fellow with such <i>rum toggys</i> cross my company these many a day.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Says Bill ‘there’s nothing like a Bull </p> +<p class="line">And <span class="sc">blow me tight</span>’—Bill Gibbons ne’er </p> +<p class="line">In all his days was known to swear, </p> +<p class="line">Except light oaths, to grace his speeches, </p> +<p class="line">Like ‘<i>dash my wig</i>’ or ‘<i>burn my breeches</i>,’ </p> +<p class="line">‘<span class="sc">Blow me</span>——’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 25. Here <span class="sc">blow me</span>, I’ll do such a thing I never did before, I’ll say thirty—yes, thirty shillings buys +the lot, and I’ll have no more nor take no less. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blow One’s Bazoo</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (American).—To boast; to swagger; to gasconade. [From the Dutch <i lang="nl">bazu</i>, an abbreviation of <i lang="nl">bazuin</i>, a trumpet; hence an equivalent of the English ‘to blow one’s own trumpet’.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blow Oneself Out</b>, <i>verb</i> (common).—To eat heartily; to gorge oneself.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blow out</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>I. L.</i> (<i>Babes in the Wood</i>). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">In the dog-days, don’t be so absurd </p> +<p class="line">As to <span class="sc">blow yourselves out</span> with green-gages! </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Blow Out</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A gluttonous feast, a heavy ‘feed,’ or entertainment. Also called a <span class="sc">Tuck in</span>, which <i>see</i> for synonyms. <span class="pageNum" id="pb250">[<a href="#pb250">250</a>]</span><i>Cf</i>., <span class="sc">Blow oneself out</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1825. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>St. Ronan’s Well</i>, II., 264. ‘She sent me a card for her <span class="sc">blow-out</span>,’ said Mowbray, ‘and so I am resolved to go.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1847. <span class="sc">Th. Hook</span>, <i>Man of Many Friends</i>. The giving good feeds is, with many of these worthies, the grand criterion by which +the virtues and talents of mankind are measured … these persons call a similar favour +either a ‘spread’ or a ‘<span class="sc">blow-out</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">H. B. Stowe</span>, <i>Uncle Tom’s Cabin</i>, ch. viii. ‘Get us hot water, and sugar, and cigars, and plenty of the <i>real stuff</i>, and we’ll have a <span class="sc">blow-out</span>.’ +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (thieves’).—To steal. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">prig</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blowse</b>, <b>Blowsy</b>, <b>Blouze</b>, <b>Blowzy</b>, <i>subs</i>. (old).—1. A beggar’s trull; a wench. +</p> +<p>2. A slatternly woman, especially one with dishevelled hair. Thought to be of canting +origin. In Grose’s time the term was humorously varied by Blowsabella, in reference +to the country girl in Gay’s pastoral poem, ‘The Shepherd’s Week,’ which depicts rural +life in its character of poverty and rudeness, rather than as clothed in the colours +of romance. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">We, fair, fine ladies, who park out our lives </p> +<p class="line">From common sheep-paths, cannot help the crows, </p> +<p class="line">From flying over; we’re as natural still </p> +<p class="line">As Blousalinda. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1557. <span class="sc">Tusser</span>, <i>Husbandrie</i>, ch. xvi., st. 37, p. 43 (E.D.S.). Whiles Gillet, his <span class="sc">blouse</span>, is a milking thy cow. +</p> +<p class="cit">1605. <span class="sc">Chapman</span>, <i>All Fooles</i>, Act iv., p. 68 (<i>Plays</i>, 1874). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Wed without my advice, my love, my knowledge, </p> +<p class="line">Ay, and a beggar, too, a trull, a <span class="sc">blowse</span>! </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1638. <span class="sc">Ford</span>, <i>Lady’s Trial</i>, III., i. Wench is your trull, your <span class="sc">blouze</span>, your dowdie. +</p> +<p class="cit">1705. <span class="sc">Ward</span>, <i>Hudibras Redivivus</i>, vol. II., pt. VII., p. 20. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">So the old Babylonian <span class="sc">Blouze</span>, </p> +<p class="line">And her demure fanatick Spouse. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1851. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>English Humorists</i>, p. 167. Are not the Rosalindas of Britain as charming as the <span class="sc">Blousalindas</span> of the Hague? +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blow the Gab</b> or <b>Gaff</b>, <i>verbal phr</i>. (common).—To reveal, or ‘let out’ a secret; to peach. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Gaff</span>, <span class="sc">Gag</span> and <span class="sc">Gab</span>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Peach</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">To blow the gab</span> (cant), to confess, or impeach a confederate. +</p> +<p class="cit">1833. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Peter Simple</i>, ch. xliii. ‘One of the French officers, after he was taken prisoner, axed me how +we had managed to get the gun up there; but I wasn’t going to <span class="sc">blow the gaff</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. ii., p. 122. The prisoner, burning for revenge, quietly bides his time till +the chief warder comes round, then asks to speak to him, and ‘<span class="sc">blows the gaff</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blow the Grampuse</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (nautical).—To throw cold water on a man who has fallen asleep when on duty. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blow the Groundsels</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (old).—To have sexual commerce on the ground. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. To <span class="sc">blow the groundsils</span> (cant), to lie with a woman on the floor. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blow Together</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (tailors’).—To make garments in a slovenly manner. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blow Up</b>, <i>subs</i>. (colloquial).—A scolding; a ‘wigging’; a railing. +</p> +<p class="cit">1809. <span class="sc">Sir W Gell</span>, in C. K. Sharpe’s <i>Correspondence</i> (1883), I., 355. There won’t be any quarrel, so you need not fear. The only chance +is Keppel making a <span class="sc">blow up</span> when she abuses me. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Pendennis</i>, ch. lxviii. Morgan had had ‘a devil of a <span class="sc">blow hup</span> with his own guv’nor, and was going to retire from the business haltogether.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb251">[<a href="#pb251">251</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1855. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Newcomes</i>, ch. vii. ‘Mind the hice is here in time; or they’ll be a <span class="sc">blow up</span> with your governor.’ +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (colloquial).—To scold. +</p> +<p class="cit">1809. <span class="sc">Sir W. Gell</span>, in C. K. Sharpe’s <i>Correspondence</i> (1888), I., 355. I have heard her daughter <span class="sc">blow up</span> Lady Salisbury when she had quarrelled with Lady Sefton. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">G. A. S[ala]</span>, in <i>Illust. L. News</i>, June 16, p. 599, col. 1. That the ’aughty nobleman should <span class="sc">blow up</span> the clerk for presuming to take a seat in his presence. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To blow up sky-high</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—The American, fond of doing everything with unusual energy, likes to +<span class="sc">blow up sky-high</span>, an addition which lends colour to the supposition that probably the phrase is originally +a nautical one, and really borrowed from the blowing up of a vessel, much as the meaning +of the words must have evaporated before it reached the present stage. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blow upon</b> (old).—To betray; to tell tales of; to discredit; to defame.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blow</span>, <i>verb</i>, sense 2. Used also with indirect passive. +</p> +<p class="cit">1402. [? <span class="sc">T. Occleve</span>], <i>Letter of Cupid</i>, in Arber’s <i>Garner</i>, vol. IV., p. 61. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Thus they despisèd be, on every side, </p> +<p class="line">Dislanderèd and <span class="sc">blown upon</span> full wide. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1750. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, bk. X., ch. ii. ‘That the reputation of her house, which was never <span class="sc">blown upon</span> before, was utterly destroyed.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1843. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Martin Chuzzlewit</i>, II., p. 239. It fortunately occurred to me, that if I gave it him myself, I could +be of no farther use. I should have been <span class="sc">blown upon</span> immediately. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Our Mutual Friend</i>, bk. III., ch. xii. ‘The condition of our affairs is desperate, and may be <span class="sc">blown upon</span> at any moment.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. i., p. 4. Both desisted from their own recriminations as to ‘rounding’ and ‘<span class="sc">blowing</span>’ on each other. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">Jas. Payn</span>, in <i>Glow Worm Tales</i>, p. 301. ‘An Improvement on a System.’ If Mr. Prince had caught me before his establishment +had got ‘<span class="sc">blown upon</span>’ in the public prints, he might have persuaded me to become an inmate of the Agapemone. +I hope I should not have approved of the manner of life in vogue at that institution, +but I make no doubt that I should have fallen in with it without much resistance. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blub.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blubber</span>, <i>verb</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blubber</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. The mouth. From the figurative use of the word, especially of anything +swollen or protruding, as of the lips. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Potato-trap</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. I have stopped the cull’s <span class="sc">blubber</span>, I have stopped the fellow’s mouth. +</p> +<p>2. A woman’s breasts.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Sport blubber</span>, and for synonyms, <span class="sc">Dairies</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (familiar).—To cry; to weep—used contemptuously. Also shortened into <span class="sc">blub</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1400. <i>Test. Love</i>, II. (1560), 283, 1. Han women none other wrech … but <span class="sc">blober</span> and wepe till hem list stint. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Roderick Random</i>, xliv. (1804), 202. He <span class="sc">blubbered</span> like a great school-boy who had been whipped. +</p> +<p class="cit">1826. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Woodstock</i>, IV. Phœbe Mayflower <span class="sc">blubbered</span> heartily for company. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To sport blubber</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To show one’s breasts, said of women, especially those with large and prominent +bosoms. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blubber and Guts</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Obesity; a low term. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blubber-Belly</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A fat person. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb252">[<a href="#pb252">252</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Blubber Head</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A foolish, empty-headed individual.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Apartments to let</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blucher</b> (ch. hard), <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—1. A College præfect in half power. Their jurisdiction does +not extend beyond ‘Seventh Chamber passage,’ though their privileges are the same +as those of other præfects. They are eight in number. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Blackwood</i>, p. 86. The remaining eight college præfects (called in Winchester tongue, <span class="sc">bluchers</span>) have a more limited authority, confined to Chambers and the Quadrangle. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>, p. 30. The eight senior præfects were said to have ‘full power,’ and had some slight +privileges not enjoyed by the remaining ten, who were generally called <span class="sc">bluchers</span>. +</p> +<p>2. A non-privileged cab plying at railway stations. The origin of the name and its +application, as far as known, is given in the two following quotations. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Soc. Sc. Review</i>, I., p. 406. The railway companies recognise two other classes of cabs, called the +‘privileged’ … and the ‘<span class="sc">Bluchers</span>,’ named after the Prussian Field-Marshal who arrived on the field of Waterloo only +to do the work that chanced to be undone. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <i>Athenæum</i>, 5 March, p. 328. Non-privileged cabs, which are admitted to stations after all the +privileged have been hired, are known as <span class="sc">Bluchers</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bludgeoner</b>, <i>subs</i>. (harlotry).—A bully; pimp; ponce; a man attached to a house of ill-fame for the +purpose of terrorising victims, and rendering easier the task of plunder. [From <span class="sc">bludgeon</span>, a stout stick or club, + <span class="sc">er</span> or <span class="sc">eer</span>; <i>i.e.</i>, one armed with the weapon in question.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <i>Blackwood’s Magazine</i>, p. 224. Those brutal <span class="sc">bludgeoneers</span> … go out … in gangs to poach. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <span class="sc">Trollope</span>, <i>Warden</i>, xiv., p. 144. Old St. Dunstan with its smiting <span class="sc">bludgeoneer</span> has been removed. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bludger</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A low thief, who does not hesitate to use violence; literally one who +will use a bludgeon. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bludget</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>Gt. World of London</i>, p. 46. Those who plunder with <i>violence</i>; as … <span class="sc">bludgers</span> or ‘stick slingers,’ who rob in company with low women. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bludget</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—This is given in the <i>New York Slang Dictionary</i> [1881] as ‘a low female thief, who decoys her victims into alley-ways, etc., to rob +them.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bludger</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue.</b>—Few words enter more largely into the composition of slang, and colloquialisms bordering +on slang, than does the word <span class="sc">blue</span>. Expressive alike of the utmost contempt, as of all that men hold dearest and love +best, its manifold combinations, in ever varying shades of meaning, greet the philologist +at every turn. A very Proteus, it defies all attempts to trace the why and wherefore +of many of the turns of expression of which it forms a part—why true <span class="sc">blue</span> should be synonymous with faithful, staunch adherence to one’s faith and principles; +or why, on the other hand, to look <span class="sc">blue</span> should signify affected with fear, dismayed, and low-spirited. Curiously enough, +the historical method helps but little to decide why in one case an exact reversal +of meaning should have taken place in the application <span class="pageNum" id="pb253">[<a href="#pb253">253</a>]</span>of the word; for, as far as the evidence is concerned, both the good and bad shades +of meaning appear to run contemporaneously. It is also noteworthy that the word enters +largely into the slang of nationalities other than our own; indeed, one of the most +curious, as well as one of the most interesting facts connected with the comparative +study of slang, is that which reveals the oneness of the human race in its modes of +thought and speech, the Tower of Babel notwithstanding. This special feature of slang +will, to some extent, be found dealt with at the end of this work; but the subject +is too wide, and the field too vast, for one student to have accomplished much single-handed. +This, however, may be said; that, comparing the slang of one nation with that of another, +one finds the same ideas cropping up, revealing, alas! the same follies and foibles, +but also showing, let it be said, in the few cases where slang travels beyond the +earthy and the sensual, the same aspirations, the same endeavour, and the same hope. +</p> +<p><i>Subs.</i>—1. A policeman. [From the colour of the uniform.] This epithet can be traced back +to Elizabethan days [<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Blue-bottle</span>], and the uniform seems to have been blue from time immemorial; indeed, this colour +appears from the earliest times to have been the badge of servitude. Pliny tells us +blue was the colour in which the Gauls clothed their slaves; and, for many ages, blue +coats were the liveries of servants, apprentices, and those in humble stations of +life—to wit, the blue-clad beadles, the ‘varlets’ who wore the blue, the blue-coat +boys, and even harlots in a house of correction, who wore blue as a dress of ignominy. +The proverb quoted by Ray, ‘he’s in his better blue clothes,’ <i>i.e.</i>, ‘he thinks himself wondrous fine,’ has reference to the livery of a servant. The +police more recently have been known collectively as <span class="sc">blues</span>, the <span class="sc">men in blue</span>, <span class="sc">blue-boys</span>, <span class="sc">blue bottles</span>, <span class="sc">blue-devils</span>, <span class="sc">royal regiment of foot-guards blue</span>, all nicknames referring to the colour of the uniform. For general synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Beak</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. iv., p. 257. He would chatter gaily and enter with great gusto into the details +of some cleverly executed ‘bit of business,’ or ‘bilking the <span class="sc">blues</span>,’—evading the police. +</p> +<p class="cit">18(?). <span class="sc">Hood</span>, <i>Row at the ‘Oxford Arms.’</i> +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Well, that’s the row, and who can guess the upshot after all? </p> +<p class="line">Whether Harmony will ever make the ‘Arms’ her house of call; </p> +<p class="line">Or whether this here mobbing, as some longish heads fortell it, </p> +<p class="line">Will grow to such a riot that the Oxford <span class="sc">blues</span> must quell it. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">2. A <span class="sc">blue</span> is known to licensed victuallers and their customers in certain districts of Wales +as a compromise between the half-pint and the pint pot. It is not recognised as a +legal measure by the authorities on weights and measures, but it is approaching to +something like a status, as it deserves to do in the interests of temperance. Although +there is no Board of Trade standard of the <span class="sc">blue</span>, and inspectors have no power to stamp measures of this denomination for use in trade, +the Board of Trade has pointed out to the local authorities that <span class="pageNum" id="pb254">[<a href="#pb254">254</a>]</span>there is nothing in the Weights and Measures Act to prevent the use of the <span class="sc">blue</span> or to make its possessor liable to penalties, always provided of course that the +vessel is not used as a measure. +</p> +<p>3. A scholar of Christ’s Hospital; a blue-coat boy. [This nickname is also derived +from the colour of the clothes—blue drugget gown or body with ample skirts to it, +a yellow vest underneath in winter time, small clothes of Russia duck, worsted yellow +stockings, a leathern girdle, and a little black worsted cap, usually carried in the +hand, being the complete costume. This was the ordinary dress of children in humble +life during the reigns of the Tudors.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">W. Trollope</span> (<i>Title</i>), Christ’s Hospital … with memoirs of Eminent <span class="sc">Blues</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">W. H. Blanch</span>, <i>Blue-Coat Boys</i>, p. 33. To some extent it holds also with regard to Civil Engineers, amongst whom, +however, one well-known name is that of a <span class="sc">blue</span>. +</p> +<p>4. Short for <span class="sc">blue-stocking</span> (<i>q<span id="xd33e42543">.</span>v.</i>); formerly a contemptuous term for a woman having or affecting literary tastes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1788. <span class="sc">Madame D’Arblay</span>, <i>Diary</i> (1876), iv., 219. He was a little the more anxious not to be surprised to-night, +but his being too tired for walking should be imputed to his literary preference of +reading to a <span class="sc">blue</span>. At tea Miss Planta again joined us, and instantly behind him went the book; he was +very right, for nobody would have thought it more odd or more <span class="sc">blue</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1823. <span class="sc">Byron</span>, <i>Don Juan</i>, ch. xi., st. 50. The <span class="sc">Blues</span>, that tender tribe, who sigh o’er sonnets. +</p> +<p class="cit">1845. <span class="sc">Disraeli</span>, <i>Sybil</i>, p. 76. ‘But she was very clever.…’ ‘Accomplished?’ ‘Oh, far beyond that.…’ ‘A regular +<span class="sc">blue</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Rev. E. Bradley</span> (‘Cuthbert Bede’), <i>Adventures of Verdant Green</i>, I., p. 7. His Aunt Virginia was as learned a <span class="sc">blue</span> as her esteemed ancestress in the court of Elizabeth, the very Virgin Queen of <span class="sc">Blues</span>. +</p> +<p>5. Female learning or pedantry. +</p> +<p class="cit">1824. <span class="sc">Byron</span>, <i>Don Juan</i>, xvi., 47. She also had a twilight tinge of <span class="sc">blue</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>6. (University.)—At Oxford and Cambridge a man is said to get his <span class="sc">blue</span> when selected as a competitor in inter-university sports. The University colours +are, for Oxford, dark blue; and for Cambridge, light blue. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">To get one’s silk</span>, said of a barrister when made Queen’s Counsel. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i>—1. A contemptuous epithet applied usually to women of literary tastes.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blue-stocking</span>. The French have <i lang="fr">elle est bleue celle-là</i>; <i lang="fr">en voilà une de bleue</i>; <i lang="fr">je la trouve bleue</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1788. <span class="sc">Mad. D’Arblay</span>, <i>Diary</i> (1842), iv., p. 219. Nobody would have thought it more odd or more <span class="sc">blue</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">Southey</span>, <i>The Doctor</i>, ch. lxxxix. Les Dames des Roches, both mother and daughter were remarkable and exemplary +women; and there was a time when Poictiers derived as much glory from those <span class="sc">blue</span> ladies as from the Black Prince. +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Lever</span>, <i>Harry Lorrequer</i>, ch. xi. She was a little, a very little <span class="sc">blue</span>—rather a babbler in the ‘ologies’ than a real disciple. +</p> +<p class="cit">1842. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>American Notes</i>, ch. iii., p. 33. <span class="sc">Blue</span> ladies there are, in Boston; but like philosophers of that colour and sex in most +other latitudes, they rather desire to be thought superior than to be so. +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">F. E. Smedley</span>, <i>Lewis Arundel</i>, ch. xxxiii. She had been growing decidedly <span class="sc">blue</span>. Not only had she, under Bray’s auspices, published a series of papers in <i>Blunt’s Magazine</i>, but she had positively written a child’s book. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Spectator</i>, No. 1875, p. 660. A clever, sensible woman, rather <span class="sc">blue</span>. +</p> +<p>2. Indecent; ‘smutty’; obscene. This may be derived from the blue dress of harlots—<i>see</i> preceding, <i>subs.</i>, 1<span>.</span>—although Hotten suggests it as coming <span class="pageNum" id="pb255">[<a href="#pb255">255</a>]</span>from the French <i lang="fr">Bibliothèque Bleu</i>, a series of books of very questionable character. Books or conversation of an entirely +opposite nature are said to be <span class="sc">brown</span> or Quakerish, <i>i.e.</i>, serious, grave, decent. +</p> +<p>3. Gloomy; fearful; depressed; low-spirited. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">To look blue</span>, <span class="sc">Blue funk</span>, and <span class="sc">In the blues</span>. Possibly an allusion to the blueness of cold. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">A. Trollope</span>, <i>Three Clerks</i>, ch. xxviii. Charley replied that neither had he any money at home. ‘That’s <span class="sc">blue</span>,’ said the man. ‘It is rather <span class="sc">blue</span>,’ said Charley. +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <span class="sc">Trollope</span>, <i>Orley Farm</i>, I., p. 93. It’s <span class="sc">blue</span>; uncommon <span class="sc">blue</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">Yates</span>, <i>Broken to Harness</i>, I., p. 60. ‘My dear Charlie,’ said the girl.… ‘That certainly is a <span class="sc">blue</span> look-out,’ she continued—for however earnest was her purpose she would not but express +herself in her slang metaphor. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">S. L. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>Roughing It</i>, ch. xl. I kept up my <span class="sc">blue</span> meditations. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">S. L. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>Gilded Age</i>, ch. xxvii. I had forgotten dear, but when a body gets <span class="sc">blue</span>, a body forgets everything.… I am sorry I was <span class="sc">blue</span>, but it did seem as if everything had been going against me for whole ages. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—1. To blush. <i>Cf.</i>, <i>subs.</i>, sense 3. +</p> +<p class="cit">1709. <span class="sc">Steele and Swift</span>, <i>Tatler</i>, No. 71, p. 8. If a Virgin blushes, we no longer cry she <span class="sc">blues.</span> [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>2. To pawn; pledge; spend; actually to get rid of money quickly. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blew</span>. There are two suggested derivations of the word when used in this sense; (1) that +it is connected with ‘blown,’ <i>i.e.</i>, dissipated or scattered; and (2) that money so squandered has disappeared as effectually +as if it had passed into the <span class="sc">blue</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, the sky or the deep sea. The German has <i>ins blaue hinein</i>, ‘away into the blue,’ equivalent to the French <i lang="fr">passer au bleu</i>. <i lang="fr">Faire passer au bleu</i> is to dissipate, spend, or squander. For synonyms, in the sense of to pawn, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Pop</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Punch’s Almanac</i>, p. 2. This top coat?—would <span class="sc">blue it</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Punch</i>, 10 Sept., p. 111. I never minds <span class="sc">blueing</span> the pieces purvided I gets a good spree. +</p> +<p>3. To miscalculate; ‘to make a “mess” of anything’; to mull. +</p> +<p>4. (thieves’.)—To steal; to plunder. <span class="sc">To be blued</span>, to be robbed. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Prig</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">By all that’s blue</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—A euphemistic oath; probably meaning ‘by Heaven.’ It may be compared with +the French <i lang="fr">parbleu</i>, synonymous with <i lang="fr">par Dieu</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Poor Jack</i>, xxiii. ‘The black cat, by <span class="sc">all that’s blue</span>!’ cried the Captain. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Men in blue</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—The police.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blue</span>, <i>subs.</i>, sense 1. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">Besant</span>, <i>All Sorts and Cond. of Men</i>, ch. xliii. ‘You must now begin to think seriously about handcuffs and prison, and +<span class="sc">men in blue</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <span class="sc">G. A. Apperson</span>, <i>Graphic</i>, 30 Jan., p. 137. The police in recent times have been known as the <span class="sc">blues</span> and the <span class="sc">men in blue</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Till all is blue</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—1. To the utmost; to the end; for an indefinite period. Smyth, in his +<i>Sailors’ Word Book</i>, says this phrase is borrowed from the idea of a vessel making out of port and getting +into deep water. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span>, <i>The Clockmaker</i>, 2 S., ch. xix. [The land] could be made to carry wheat till <span class="sc">all’s blue</span> again. <i>Ibid<span>.</span></i>, 3 S., ch. xx. Your mother kickin’ and screamin’ till <span class="sc">all was blue</span> again. +</p> +<p class="cit">1850. <span class="sc">Smedley</span>, <i>Frank Fairlegh</i>, I., p. 184. I’ll have at her again, and dance <span class="sc">till all’s blue</span> before I give in. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb256">[<a href="#pb256">256</a>]</span></p> +<p>2. When applied to drinking, <span class="sc">till all is blue</span> signifies exceeding tipsy. As will be seen, this usage is somewhat ancient. It is +an allusion to the supposed effect of drinking on the eyesight. An analogous French +expression is <i lang="fr">avoir un coup d’bleu</i> (to be slightly tipsy). +</p> +<p class="cit">1616. R. C., <i>Times’ Whis.</i>, v., 1835. They drink … Vntil their adle heads doe make the ground Seeme <span class="sc">blew</span> vnto them. +</p> +<p class="cit">1638. <span class="sc">Ford</span>, <i>Lady’s Trial</i>, iv., 2. We can drink <span class="sc">till all look blue</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>I. L.</i> (<i>Lay of St. Dunstan</i>). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line xd33e5086">‘I have nothing to do: </p> +<p class="line">And ’fore George, I’ll sit here and I’ll drink <span class="sc">till all’s blue</span>!’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first"><span class="sc">To look blue</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—To be confounded; surprised; astonished; annoyed or disappointed. French +equivalents are <i lang="fr">en rester tout bleu</i>; <i lang="fr">en être bleu</i>; <i lang="fr">en bailler tout bleu</i>; and <i lang="fr">baba</i> from <i lang="fr">ébahi</i>, astounded. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1600. <i>Rob. Hood</i> (‘Ritson’), II., xxxvi., 84. It made the sunne <span class="sc">looke blue</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <span class="sc">B. Martin</span>, <i>Eng. Dict.</i> <span class="sc">Blue</span>, adj. … 2, blank, or cast down; as, he <span class="sc">looked blue</span> upon it. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Cornhill Mag.</i>, Jan., p. 111. The prudent (and sagacious) officer <span class="sc">looked blue</span>. But he speedily recovered himself. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To make the air blue</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—To curse; to swear; to use profane language. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blue</span>, <i>adj.</i>, sense 2. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">True blue</span>, <i>phr.</i> (colloquial).—Faithful; genuine; real; an allusion to blue as the colour of constancy. +A reference either to the deep blue of the sky or sea suggestive of interminableness; +or, it may be derived as was ‘Coventry blue,’ from a dye that would neither change +its colour nor be discharged by washing; hence figuratively, to signify persons or +things of sterling character or quality. In neither case is the argument clear or +decisive; there is certainly no reason in nature why the colour and cardinal virtue +should be thus associated. Blue skies and blue seas are proverbially deceitful, and +on the other hand, the expression seems too old a one to owe its origin to the dyer’s +skill. +</p> +<p class="cit">1383. <span class="sc">Chaucer</span>, <i>Squiere’s Tale</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">And by hire bedde’s hed she made a mew, </p> +<p class="line">And covered it with velouettes <span class="sc">blew</span>, </p> +<p class="line">In signe of trouthe that is in woman sene. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit"><i>Ibid</i>, <i>Court of Love</i>, line 246. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">So you dir folke (quod she) that knele in <span class="sc">blew</span>, </p> +<p class="line">They were the colour ay and ever shal, </p> +<p class="line">In signe they were, and ever wil be true, </p> +<p class="line">Withoutin change. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Blue Apron</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A tradesman. +</p> +<p class="cit">1721. <span class="sc">Amherst</span>, <i lang="la">Terræ Fil.</i>, xliii., 230. For if any saucy <span class="sc">blue-apron</span> dares to affront any venerable person … all scholars are immediately forbid to have +any dealing or commerce with him. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Brewer</span>, <i>Dictionary of Phrase and Fable</i>, p. 98. A <span class="sc">blue-apron</span> statesman, a lay politician, a tradesman who interferes with the affairs of the nation. +The reference is to the <span class="sc">blue apron</span> once worn by nearly all tradesmen, but now restricted to butchers, poulterers, fishmongers, +and so on. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bluebacks</b>, <i>subs.</i>—1. The paper money of the Confederates. A cant name, originating, as in the case +of United States paper currency <span class="sc">greenbacks</span>, in the colour of the printing on the reverse. A more pronounced slang name, subsequently +applied to <span class="sc">bluebacks</span>, was ‘shucks,’ from their worthlessness after the war. ‘Shucks’ is an old English +term for the refuse of peas and similar products when shelled. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb257">[<a href="#pb257">257</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1871. <span class="sc">De Vere</span>, <i>Americanisms</i>, p. 291. The confederate notes bore, for the same reason, the name of <span class="sc">bluebacks</span>, which was, however, soon exchanged for the slang term of shucks. +</p> +<p>2. The Orange Free State paper money. +</p> +<p class="cit">1878. <span class="sc">Trollope</span>, <i>South Africa</i>, II., p. 206. <span class="sc">Bluebacks</span>, as they were called, were printed. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 222. The <span class="sc">bluebacks</span> as the Orange Free State banknotes were called. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Bellies.</b>—A nickname bestowed by Southerners, during the Civil War, upon their opponents of +the North, whose uniform was blue. They were also called <span class="sc">boys in blue</span>, <span class="sc">yanks</span>, etc. The Southerners, on the other hand, received such names as <span class="sc">the secesh</span>, <span class="sc">rebs</span>, and <span class="sc">johnny rebs</span>, the latter being sometimes shortened to <span class="sc">johnnies</span>. The grey uniform of the Confederates likewise caused them to be styled <span class="sc">boys in grey</span> and <span class="sc">greybacks</span>, the latter epithet cutting two ways, as the Southern soldiers not only wore grey +uniforms, but ‘greyback’ in America as well as England signifies a louse. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, Feb. 9, p. 5, col. 4. The Confederate armies during the great Civil War in America +… were known … as ‘Greybacks,’ whereas their Federal opponents, from the light-azure +gaberdines which they wore, were dubbed ‘<span class="sc">blue-bellies</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Bills</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—The tradesmen’s bills sent home to the parents and guardians +of students. [So called from the colour of the envelopes generally used.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Billy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (pugilistic).—1. A handkerchief (blue ground with white spots) sometimes worn and +used as a colour at prize-fights.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Billy</span>, sense 1. +</p> +<p>2. (mining.)—<i>See</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. ‘Death of <span class="sc">Blue Billy</span>,’ in <i>Chamb. Jour.</i>, Dec. 17, p. 812. <span class="sc">Blue Billy</span> is the technical name given to the lime rendered foul in the purification of the +gas. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Blanket</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. The sky. This simile is an old one; Defoe’s use of it may probably have +been suggested by Shakspeare’s ‘blanket of the dark’ (Macbeth, I., v.). +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1720. <span class="sc">Defoe</span>, <i>Hist. of Devil</i>, quoted in <i>N. and Q.</i>, 7 S., ii., 289; <i>see</i> also 7 S., ii., 492. We must be content till we come on the other side the <span class="sc">blue blanket</span>, and then we shall know the whole story. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">Greenwood</span>, <i>Under the Blue Blanket</i>. The vagrant brotherhood have several slang terms for sleeping out in a field or +meadow. It is called ‘snoozing in Hedge Square’; <span id="xd33e43264">‘</span>dossing with the daisies’; and ‘lying under the <span class="sc">blue blanket</span>.’ +</p> +<p>The French say, ‘<i lang="fr">coucher à l’hotel de l’Etoile</i>,’ <i>i.e.</i>, ‘to sleep at the Star Hotel’; while in the Fourbesque, or Italian cant, heaven or +the sky is termed <i lang="it">copertore</i>, a covering or blanket. +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A rough overcoat made of coarse pilot cloth. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Blazes.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blazes</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Boar</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A certain venereal disease. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue-Bottle</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. A policeman. This epithet, at one time applied generally to all wearers +of a dark blue uniform, is now invariably understood to mean a guardian of the peace. +It is one of the oldest of the nicknames given to members of the force, and occurs +as far back as 1598. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb258">[<a href="#pb258">258</a>]</span></p> +<p><i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blue</span>, sense 1, and <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Beak</span> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="cit">1598. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, 2 <i>Henry IV.</i>, v., 4. <i>Dall</i> [addressing beadle] … you <span class="sc">blue-bottle</span> rogue, you filthy famished correctioner. +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">F. E. Smedley</span>, <i>Lewis Arundel</i>, ch. lxiv. ‘Police, indeed!’ muttered Charley, ‘the General can’t remember that he +is out of London.… These confounded sulky Austrian officials are rather different +customers to deal with from our <span class="sc">blue-bottles</span>.—Messrs. Al and Co.<span>’</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">Sala</span>, in <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, Sept. 13. Caught in his own toils by the <span class="sc">blue-bottles</span> of Scotland Yard, [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Blackwood’s Mag.</i>, p. 15. He who could summon to his aid every alphabetical <span class="sc">blue-bottle</span> that ever handled a truncheon. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <span class="sc">Middleton</span>, <i>Michaelmas Term</i>. And to be free from the interruption of <span class="sc">blue beadles</span>, and other bawdy officers. +</p> +<p>2. A serving-man, blue having been the usual habit of servants. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blue-coat</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1602. <i>Honest Whore</i>, O. Pl., iii., 389. You proud varlets, you need not be ashamed to wear <span class="sc">blue</span>, when your master is one of your fellows. +</p> +<p class="cit">1608. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Belman</i>, sign E., 3. The others act their parts in <i>blew coates</i>, as (if) they were their serving-men. +</p> +<p>Hence <span class="sc">blue-bottle</span> is sometimes a term of reproach for a servant. [<i>Case Altered</i>, i., 2. O. Pl., v., 6.] And a <i>serving-man</i>, in B. Jonson, says, ‘Ever since I was of <i>the blue order</i>.’ +</p> +<p>About 1608, when Middleton’s Comedy of <i>A Trick to catch the Old One</i> was produced, the <i>blue-coats</i> of servants appear to have been changed for cloaks, such as were worn by the upper +classes also at that time. Thus, in that comedy [<i>Act</i> ii., <i>Anc. Drama</i>, v., p. 151]:—There’s more true honesty in such a country serving man, than in a +hundred of our cloak companions. I may well call ’em companions, for since <i>blue coats</i> have been turned into cloaks, one can scarce know the man from the master. B. Jonson +[<i>Mask of Christmas</i>] introduces New Yeares Gift, In a <i>blew coat</i>, serving-man like, with an orange, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1845. <span class="sc">G. P. R. James</span>, <i>Arrah Neil</i>, p. 325. The personage to whom he addressed himself, was one of the serving-men of +that day, known by the general term of <span class="sc">blue-bottles</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. x. (I., p. 173). I fancy you would love to move to court like him, followed +by a round score of old <span class="sc">blue-bottles</span>. <i>Ibid</i>, ch. xi. My lord, my father … has <span class="sc">blue-bottles</span> enough to wait on him. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Boy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A bubo; a tumour or abscess with inflammation. Specially applied to that +kind which is a result of venereal disease. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue-Boys</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—The police. The expression is generally used in the plural. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blue</span>, sense 1, and <span class="sc">Beak</span>, sense 1. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Jas. Greenwood</span>, <i>Help Myself Society</i>, in <i>Odd People in Odd Places</i>, p. 68. The ‘Help Yourselves’ are especially strong in instrumental music. They have +a friend in Colonel Fraser, the head of the City police, and the excellent band of +that branch of the force is at their service, and Sir E. Henderson shows himself to +be at heart a ‘Help Yourself,’ by permitting the instrumental <span class="sc">blue boys</span> belonging to several metropolitan divisions to spend a Saturday night there. Besides +these, they have the Polytechnic orchestral band when it is required, and an excellent +grand piano with a skilled player and accompanyist. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Butter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Mercurial ointment, used for the destruction of parasites. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue-Coat</b>, <i>subs.</i>—A constable; a guardian of public order. This, like many of its congeners, has been +applied to serving-men, beadles, tailors, and others wearing a uniform of a dark <span class="pageNum" id="pb259">[<a href="#pb259">259</a>]</span>blue colour. Like <span class="sc">blue</span><span id="xd33e43494">,</span> <span class="sc">blue-bottle</span>, etc., its application to a policeman is of some antiquity. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blue</span>, sense 1, and <span class="sc">Beak</span>, sense 1. +</p> +<p class="cit">1610. <span class="sc">Rowlands</span>, <i>Martin Mark-all</i>, p. 19 (H. Club’s Repr., 1874). And being so taken, haue beene carried to places +of correction, there wofully tormented by <span class="sc">blew-coates</span>, cowardly fellowes, that … haue so scourged vs, that flesh and blood could hardly +endure it. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. II., p. 417. ‘I thinks them Chartists are a weak-minded set … a hundred o’ +them would run away from one <span class="sc">blue-coat</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blued</b> or <b>Blewed</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (common).—Tipsy; drunk. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Screwed</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Dahlia</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A colloquialism for something rare or seldom seen; a <i lang="la">rara avis</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Devils</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. Dejection; lowness of spirits; hypochondria. +</p> +<p class="cit">1786. <span class="sc">Cowper</span>, <i>Letters</i>, No. 219, vol. II., p. 143 (ed. 1834). I have not that which commonly is a symptom +of such a case belonging to me,—I mean extraordinary elevation in the absence of Mr. +<span class="sc">Blue devil</span>. When I am in the best health, my tide of animal sprightliness flows with great equality. +</p> +<p class="cit">1790. <span class="sc">W. B. Rhodes</span>, <i lang="la">Bombastes Furioso</i>, Sc. 1. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Or, dropping poisons in the cup of joy, </p> +<p class="line">Do the <span class="sc">blue devils</span> your repose annoy? </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1871. <span class="sc">Planché</span>, <i>King Christmas</i>. There are <span class="sc">blue devils</span> which defy blue pills. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">G. R. Sims</span>, <i>Three Brass Balls</i>, pledge iii. He got discontented and had fits of <span class="sc">blue devils</span>. +</p> +<p>Two French equivalents for feeling out of sorts are <i lang="fr">s’emboucaner</i>, and <i lang="fr">s’éncoliflucheter</i>. +</p> +<p>2. (popular.)—<i lang="la">Delirium tremens.</i> From the apparitions drunkards often suppose they see. In both this and the foregoing +sense <span class="sc">blue devils</span> is contracted into <span class="sc">blues</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1818–9. <span class="sc">Cobbett</span>, <i>Resid. U.S.</i>, 42. It was just the weather to give drunkards the <span class="sc">blue devils</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1831. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Demonology</i>, i., 18. They, by a continued series of intoxication, became subject to what is popularly +called the <span class="sc">blue devils</span>. +</p> +<p>Hence such derivatives as <span class="sc">blue devilage</span>; <span class="sc">blue devilry</span>; <span class="sc">blue devilism</span>; and an adjectival form <span class="sc">blue devilly</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <span class="sc">Lockhart</span>, <i>Fair to See</i>, I., p. 208. On the lower hills the pine-trees loomed through stagnant mists with +a dejected and <span class="sc">blue-devilly</span> aspect. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Fear</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—Extreme fright. [From the ‘blue’ or pallid cast of countenance which fear +is supposed to induce. The same as <span class="sc">blue funk</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), which is more general.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">R. L. Stevenson</span>, <i>The Treasure of Franchard</i>, in <i>Longman’s Mag.</i>, April, p. 683. Anastasie had saved the remainder of his fortune by keeping him strictly +in the country. The very name of Paris put her in a <span class="sc">blue fear</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Flag</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A <span class="sc">blue apron</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). Worn by butchers, publicans, and other tradesmen. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. He has hoisted the <span class="sc">blue flag</span>, he has commenced publican, or taken a public house, alluding to the blue aprons +worn by publicans. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Funk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—Extreme fright, nervousness, or dread. [<span class="sc">Funk</span> is ‘to stink through fear’; Wedgwood connects it with the Walloon <i lang="fr">funker</i>, ‘to smoke.’] +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">Thomas Hughes</span>, <i>Tom Brown’s School-days</i>, p. 196. If I was going to be flogged next minute, I should be in a <span class="sc">blue funk</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <i>Macmillan’s Magazine</i>, p. 211. I was in a real <span class="sc">blue funk</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb260">[<a href="#pb260">260</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1861. <i>Saturday Review</i>, Nov. 23, 534. We encounter … the miserable Dr. Blandling in what is called a <span class="sc">blue funk</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <span class="sc">Maxwell</span>, in <i>Life</i> (1882), xvi., 382. Certainly <span class="trans" title="chlōron theos"><span lang="grc" class="grek">χλωρὸν θέος</span></span> is the Homeric for a <span class="sc">blue funk</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Hen’s Chickens</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A slang name for the inhabitants of Delaware. The nickname arose thus: +Captain Caldwell, an officer of the first Delaware regiment in the American War of +Independence, was noted for his love of cock-fighting. Being personally popular, and +his regiment becoming famous for their valour, they were soon known as ‘game-cocks’; +and as Caldwell maintained that no cock was truly game unless its mother was a blue +hen, his regiment, and subsequently Delawareans generally, became known as <span class="sc">blue hen’s chickens</span>, and Delaware as the <span class="sc">Blue Hen State</span> for the same reason. A boaster is also often brought to book by the sarcasm, ‘Your +mother was a blue hen no doubt.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Horse</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—The Fourth Dragoon Horse, from its facings. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Lightning</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—One of the grimly facetious names with which Texans have christened revolvers. +At times a dispute has literally been a word, a flash of <span class="sc">blue lightning</span> and—certain death. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barker</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Monday</b>, <i>subs.</i> (workmen’s).—A Monday spent in dissipation and absence from work. One often hears +the phrase ‘to feel <span class="sc">Mondayish</span>.’ The German has <i lang="de">der blaue Montag</i>. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Black Saturday</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Harper’s Magazine</i>, p. 873, col. 1. The workman getting sober after his usual <span class="sc">blue Monday</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Moon.</b> <span class="sc">Once in a blue moon</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—Extremely seldom; an unlimited time; a rarely recurring period. An old +phrase, first used in the sense of something absurd. A <span class="sc">blue moon</span>, like the Greek Kalends, is something which does not exist. A variant is ‘when two +Sundays come in a week.’ As regards origin nothing is known; barring the extract from +Roy and Barlow, authorities give no examples earlier than 1876—a curious fact. +</p> +<p class="cit">1526. <span class="sc">Roy and Barlowe</span>, <i>Rede me and be not wroth</i>, p. 114 [ed. Arber, 1871]. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Yf they saye the <span class="sc">mone</span> is belewe, </p> +<p class="line">We must beleve that it is true, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Admittynge their interpretacion. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1860. <span class="sc">F. W. Robinson</span>, <i>Grandmother’s Money</i>, I., p. 144. If he talked till a <span class="sc">blue moon</span>, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Joshua Haggard’s Daughter</i>, ch. xxiv. Why should she stint as to one or two puddings a week … and a fruit pasty +<span class="sc">once in a blue moon</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">R. E. Francillon</span>, <i>Ropes of Sand</i>, ch. xxi. ‘I’ve made bold to take the chance of your being at home for <span class="sc">once in a blue moon</span>, Mr. Carew,’ said she. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Murder</b> or <b>Blue Murders</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A term used to describe cries of terror or alarm; a great noise; an unusual +racket. <i>Cf.</i>, French <i lang="fr">morbleu</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <span class="sc">J. S. Winter</span>, <i>Eng. Ill. Mag.</i>, Dec., p. 179. The dingy person dropped his victim and howled what the half-dozen +officers … graphically described as <span class="sc">blue murder</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb261">[<a href="#pb261">261</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Blueness</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Indecency. Smutty talk is described as <span class="sc">blue</span>, sense 2 (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Carlyle</span>, <i>Diderot</i>, <i>Ess.</i>, 240. The occasional <span class="sc">blueness</span> of both [writings] shall not altogether affright us. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Les horreurs</i>; <i lang="fr">les bêtises</i>; <i lang="fr">les gueulées</i>. To talk blue is rendered by <i lang="fr">décravater ses propos</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Noses</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—The natives of Nova Scotia. A nickname given them by the Yankees in allusion, +it is said, to a potato of that name which Nova Scotians claim to be the best in the +world. Proctor, however, thinks differently, and says he would wager that the Nova +Scotians were called <span class="sc">blue noses</span> before the potato which they rear was so named, and hazards the suggestion that the +nickname refers to the blueness of nose resulting from intense cold. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837–40. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span> (‘Sam Slick’). Do you know the reason monkeys are no good? Because they chatter all +day long,—as do the niggers,—and so do the <span class="sc">blue noses</span> of Nova Scotia. +</p> +<p class="cit">18(?). <span class="sc">Sir George Simpson</span>, <i>Overland Journey</i>, vol. I., p. 19. After a run [in the steamer] of fourteen days, we entered the harbour +of Halifax, amid the hearty cheers of a large number of <span class="sc">blue noses</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue</b> [or <b>Blew</b>] <b>One’s Screw</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (common).—To waste or squander one’s salary. [From <span class="sc">blue</span> or <span class="sc">blew</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">screw</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Peter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (card-players’).—The signal or call for trumps at whist. [Properly a blue flag with +white square in centre, hoisted as a signal for immediate sailing.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <span class="sc">Beeton</span>, <i>Handy Book of Games</i>, p. 358. Since the introduction of <span class="sc">Blue Peter</span>, the necessity of leading through your adversary’s hand has become less and less. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Pigeon</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—Lead used for roofing purposes. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bluey</span> and <span class="sc">Blue pigeon flyer</span>. Of doubtful origin, but possibly a punning allusion. Lead has long been known as +‘bluey,’ and pigeons frequently find a resting-place on house-tops. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Judy</i>, 27 April, p. 200. A burglar whose particular ‘lay’ was flying the <span class="sc">blue pigeon</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, stealing lead. +</p> +<p>(Nautical.)—The sounding lead. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Pigeon Flyer</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (thieves’).—A thief who steals lead from the roofs of buildings. Hotten thus explains +the <i lang="la">modus operandi</i>. Sometimes a journeyman plumber, glazier, or other workman, who, when repairing houses, +strips off the lead, and makes away with it. This performance is, though, by no means +confined to workmen. An empty house is often entered and the whole of the roof in +its vicinity stripped, the only notice given to the folks below being received by +them on the occasion of a heavy downfall of rain. The term <span class="sc">flyer</span> has, indeed, of late years been more peculiarly applied to the man who steals the +lead in pursuance of his vocation as a thief, than to him who takes it because it +comes in the way of his work. +</p> +<p class="cit">1789. <span class="sc">Geo. Parker</span>, <i>Life’s Painter</i>, p. 165. <span class="sc">Blue pigeon flying.</span> Fellows who steal lead off houses, or cut pipes away. +</p> +<p>French equivalents are <i lang="fr">un limousineur</i>; <i lang="fr">un gras-doublier</i>; <i lang="fr">un mastaroufleur</i>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb262">[<a href="#pb262">262</a>]</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">To fly the blue pigeon</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (thieves’).—To steal lead from the roofs of houses.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blue pigeon</span>. French equivalents are <i lang="fr">faire la mastar au gras-double</i>; <i lang="fr">ratisser du gras double</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">J. Doran</span>, in <i>Notes and Queries</i>, 4 S., x., 308. Even at the present day, no rascal would stoop to strip lead from +the roof of a house. At least, what honest men would call by that name, he would prettily +designate as ‘<span class="sc">flying the blue pigeon</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Pill</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A bullet; also called <span class="sc">blue plum</span> and <span class="sc">blue whistler</span>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Pill</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <i>N. Y. Tribune</i> (<i>Let. from Missouri</i>), Nov. 10. Between <span class="sc">blue pills</span>, halters, and the penitentiary, we shall soon work off this element of rascaldom +and horse-thieves. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Plum</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A bullet. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blue pill</span> and <span class="sc">Blue whistler</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. Surfeited with a <span class="sc">blue plumb</span>, wounded with a bullet; a sortment of George R——’s <span class="sc">blue plumbs</span>, a volley of ball, shot from soldier’s firelocks. +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Rookwood</i> (1884), p. 95. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Believe me, there is not a game, my brave boys, </p> +<p class="line">To compare with the game of high toby; </p> +<p class="line">No rapture can equal the toby man’s joys, </p> +<p class="line">To blue devils, <span class="sc">blue plumbs</span> give the go by. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Blue Ruin</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Gin, generally of inferior quality. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1817. <span class="sc">Keats</span>, <i>A Portrait</i>. He sipped no olden Tom or <span class="sc">ruin blue</span>, or Nantz or cherry brandy. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress</i>, p. 39. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">A few short words I first must spare, </p> +<p class="line">To him, the Hero, that sits there, </p> +<p class="line"><i>Swigging</i> <span class="sc">Blue ruin</span>, in that chair. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act iii., Sc. 3. <i>Log.</i> Here, Landlord, more <span class="sc">Blue Ruin</span>, my boy! <i>Sal.</i> Massa Bob, you find me no such bad partner; many de good vill and de power me get +from de Jack Tar. +</p> +<p class="cit">1847. <span class="sc">Lytton</span>, <i>Lucretia</i>, pt. II., ch. xx. ‘The littel un … had been abrought up upon spoon-meat, with a dash +o’ <span class="sc">blue-ruin</span> to make him slim and ginteel.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">Sala</span>, <i>Gaslight and Daylight</i>, ch. xxiii. The stuff itself, which in the western gin-shops goes generally by the +name of <span class="sc">blue-ruin</span> or ‘short.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blues</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. Despondency; hypochondria; depression of spirits. [A shortened form +of <span class="sc">blue devils</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).] A French synonym is <i lang="fr">se faire des plumes</i> or <i lang="fr">paumer ses plumes</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1807. <span class="sc">Washington Irving</span>, <i>Salmagundi</i> (1824), p. 96. In a fit of the <span class="sc">blues</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>Kate Coventry</i>, ch. viii. The moat alone is enough to give one the <span class="sc">blues</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <span class="sc">John Strange Winter</span>, <i>That Imp</i>, p. 10. ‘Miss Aurora,’ he said suddenly, one evening after dinner, ‘it’s awfully +dull at Drive now; does it never strike you so?’ ‘Very often, my dear,’ answered Miss +Aurora promptly. ‘It’s as dull as—’ ‘Ditch-water,’ supplied Driver, finding she paused +for a word which would express dulness enough. ‘I wonder you and Betty don’t die of +the <span class="sc">blues</span>.’ +</p> +<p>2. The police.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Blue</span>, sense 1. +</p> +<p>3. (military.)—The Royal Horse Guards Blue are popularly so known from the blue facings +on the scarlet uniform. The corps first obtained the name of ‘Oxford Blues’ in 1690, +to distinguish it from a Dutch regiment of Horse Guards dressed in blue, commanded +by the Earl of Portland, the former being commanded by the Earl of Oxford. Subsequently +the regiment was, during the campaign in Flanders [1742–45], known as the ‘Blue Guards.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Skin</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. Formerly a contemptuous term for <span class="pageNum" id="pb263">[<a href="#pb263">263</a>]</span>a Presbyterian. Butler, in <i>Hudibras</i> [I., p. 26], says:— +</p> +<div class="lgouter"> +<p class="line xd33e5088">‘’twas Presbyterian <i>true blue</i>, </p> +<p class="line">For he was of the stubborn crew </p> +<p class="line">Of errant saints, whom all men grant </p> +<p class="line">To be the true Church Militant.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first">Blue is still the Presbyterian colour, and is used as an adjective by them in describing +books and people. +</p> +<p>2. (West Indian.)—A half-breed—the child of a black woman by a white man. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Squadron</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colonial).—One of mixed blood; properly one with a Hindoo strain. Eurasians belong +to the <span class="sc">blue squadron</span>. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Touch of the tar brush</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Stocking</b>, <i>subs.</i>—A literary lady: applied usually with the imputation of pedantry. The generally received +explanation is that the term is derived from the name given to certain meetings held +by ladies in the days of Dr. Johnson for conversation with distinguished literary +men. One of the most eminent of these literati was a Mr. Benjamin Stillingfleet, who +always wore <span class="sc">blue stockings</span>, and whose conversation at these meetings was so much prized, that his absence at +any time was felt to be a great loss, so that the remark became common, ‘We can do +nothing without the <span class="sc">blue stockings</span>,’ hence these meetings were sportively called <span class="sc">blue-stocking</span> clubs, and the ladies who attended them <span class="sc">blue-stockings</span>. It is stated that the name specially arose in this way. A foreigner of rank refused +to accompany a friend to one of these parties on the plea of being in his travelling +costume, to which there was the reply, ‘Oh! we never mind dress on these occasions; +you may come in <i lang="fr">bas bleus</i> or <span class="sc">blue stockings</span>,’ with allusion to Stillingfleet’s stockings, when the foreigner, fancying that <i lang="fr">bas bleus</i> were part of the necessary costume, called the meeting ever after the Bas-bleu Society. +In modern slang the term <span class="sc">blue-stocking</span> is abbreviated into <span class="sc">blue</span>. Derivatives are <span class="sc">blue-stockingism</span>, <span class="sc">blue-stockinger</span>, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>b.</i> 1738, <i>d.</i> 1819. <span class="sc">Wolcot</span> (‘P. Pindar’), <i>Benevolent Epistle</i>, in wks. (Dublin, 1795), vol. II., p. 125. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">I see the band of <span class="sc">blue-stockings</span> arise, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Historic, critic, and poetic dames! </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1780. <span class="sc">Mad. D’Arblay</span>, <i>Diary</i>, i., 326. Who would not be a <span class="sc">blue-stockinger</span> at this rate? +</p> +<p class="cit">1784. <span class="sc">Walpole</span>, <i>Letters</i>, iv., 381. [Walpole, writing to Hannah More, playfully makes it a verb = to put on +<span class="sc">blue stockings</span>.] When will you <span class="sc">blue-stocking</span> yourself, and come amongst us? +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Macmillan’s Mag.</i>, May, p. 50. On the airs and graces of the gushing <span class="sc">blue stockings</span> who were in vogue in that day … she had no mercy. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">Miss Martineau</span>, <i>Autob.</i>, vol. I., p. 100. Young ladies (at least in provincial towns) were expected to sit +down in the parlour to sew,—during which reading aloud was permitted,—or to practice +their music; but so as to fit to receive callers, without any signs of <span class="sc">blue-stockingism</span> which could be reported abroad. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Stone</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Gin or whiskey of so bad a quality that it can only be compared to vitriol, +of which <span class="sc">bluestone</span> is also a nickname in the north of England and Scotland. For all synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Blackwood’s Mag.</i>, June, p. 786. The bar was still thronged, and the effects of the mixture of spirits +of wine, <span class="sc">bluestone</span>, and tobacco-juice, were to be seen on a miserable wretch who lay stretched in the +courtyard. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb264">[<a href="#pb264">264</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">W. G. Black</span>, in <i>Notes and Queries</i>, 6 S., v., p. 348. A witness was asked in the Northern Police Court, Glasgow, a few +weeks ago, a question relative to the quality of certain whiskey said to have been +supplied to him. ‘It wasn’t whiskey,’ he said, ‘it was nothing but <span class="sc">bluestone</span>.’ ‘But what?’ inquired the magistrate. ‘<span class="sc">Bluestone</span>,<span id="xd33e44477"></span> your honour,’ was the answer—‘poison.’ I heard the question and answer, and there +can be no doubt that the word was used as a familiar one. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Tape</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—One of the many cant terms for gin. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blue Whistler</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A bullet. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Pill</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>New York Herald</i>, Nov. 4. It was Mr. Barbour’s rifle shot which had hit him in the head and caused +him to stagger. The pellet of lead passed deep into the brain. The second shot was +from the Atlanta drummer, and his thirteen <span class="sc">blue whistlers</span> tore the brute’s liver into shreds and made a great hole in his side. <i>Ibid.</i> After a few moments of reflection, being nearest to the quarry, I lifted my double-barrelled +shotgun and let drive a volley of <span class="sc">blue whistlers</span> straight at bruin’s yawning jaws. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bluey</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—1. Lead.—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Blue pigeon</span>. [Supposed to be an allusion to the colour.] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Du doussin</i>; <i lang="fr">du noir</i> (<i lang="fr">noir</i> = black); <i lang="fr">du saucisson</i>. ‘To dispose of <span class="sc">bluey</span> at the fence,’ <i>i.e.</i>, the receiver of stolen goods—<i lang="fr">porter du gras-double au moulin</i>. +</p> +<p>2. (Australian.)—A bushman’s bundle, the outside wrapper of which is generally a blue +blanket—hence the name. This is also called his <span class="sc">swag</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); likewise a <span class="sc">drum</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bluey-Hunter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A thief who steals lead, as described under <span class="sc">blue pigeon flyer</span> (q.v.), of which <span class="sc">bluey-hunter</span> is a synonym. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Billy-hunter</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>Lon. Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, IV., 26. <span class="sc">Bluey-hunters</span>, or those who purloin lead from the tops of houses. +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>Gt. World of London</i>, p. 46. <span class="sc">Bluey-hunters</span>, who take lead from the tops of houses. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bluff</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vagrants’ and common).—An excuse; a pretence; that which is intended to hoodwink +or ‘to blind.’ Probably a transferred usage of the American sense. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. I., p. 231. [List of patterer’s words.] <span class="sc">Bluff</span>, an excuse. +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">Bret Harte</span>, <i>Gabriel Conroy</i>, ch. xxxix. There is a strong suspicion among men whose heads are level that this +Minstrel Variety Performance is a <span class="sc">bluff</span> of the ‘<i>Messenger</i>’ to keep from the public the real motives of the murder. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Boston</i> (U.S.) <i>Journal</i>, Sept. 25. The oiler was only a <span class="sc">bluff</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (common).—To turn aside; to stop; to hoodwink; to blind as to one’s real intention. +Properly, to brag; to conceal one’s weakness; from the American game of poker.—<i>See subs.</i> +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <span class="sc">De Vere</span>, <i>Americanisms</i>, p. 327. Like its near cousin, suggestively called <span class="sc">bluff</span>, poker is a mere hazard game, with which, however, is combined great skill in bragging +to a purpose. One man offers a bet on his hand; another doubles the bet and ‘goes +one better’; then the first tries <span class="sc">to bluff</span> him off by a still higher bet, and thus the stake rises rapidly to often enormous +sums. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Echo</i>, April 20, p. 3, col. 5. Subsequently a prominent bookmaker attempted to <span class="sc">bluff</span> Captain Machell by laying him 2,000 to 1,000 on Goggles against Sweetbread—a merry +little bit of financial diplomacy, which was promptly followed by Goggles being struck +out. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <span class="sc">Bret Harte</span>, <i>Ship of</i> ’49, ch. v. ‘Far from <span class="sc">bluffing</span>, Sleight, I am throwing my cards on the table. Consider that I’ve passed out. Let +some other man take my hand.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb265">[<a href="#pb265">265</a>]</span></p> +<p>It may be remarked that Ray [1674–91] gives <span class="sc">bluff</span> as to blindfold, and Bailey [1721] as to hoodwink. The German has <i lang="de">blüffen</i>; the Dutch <i lang="nl"><span class="corr" id="xd33e44681" title="Source: bloffen">blaffen</span></i>, ‘to bark at,’ and <i lang="de"><span class="corr" id="xd33e44685" title="Source: verlüffen">verblüffen</span></i>, ‘to put out of countenance.’ +</p> +<p>So also <span class="sc">bluffing</span> in a similar sense. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Answers</i>, July 20, p. 121, col. 2. The youths evidently disagreed as to the nature of my business: +one, as far as I could gather, assumed that I was a ‘nark,’ and that I was <span class="sc">bluffing</span> (making an excuse), and ‘flamming’ (lying). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bluffer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—An innkeeper.—<i>Grose.</i> Bailey [1721] also gives the term with the same meaning, and American thieves still +retain the word in a similar sense. +</p> +<p>2. (nautical<span class="corr" id="xd33e44711" title="Source: .)">).</span>—A bo’sun. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blunderbuss</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A stupid blundering fellow.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blunt</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—Money, especially ready money. For a long list of synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Actual</span>. [There are several suggested derivations; (1) that it is from the French <i lang="fr">blond</i>, sandy or golden colour, and that a parallel may be found in <span class="sc">brown</span> or <span class="sc">browns</span>, the slang for halfpence. Far-fetched as this etymology seems, say Hotten, it may +be correct, as it is borne out by the analogy of similar expressions. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blanquillo</span>, a word used in Morocco and Southern Spain for a small Moorish coin. The ‘asper’ +(<span class="trans" title="aspron"><span lang="grc" class="grek">ἄσπρόν</span></span>) of Constantinople is called by the Turks <i lang="tr">akcheh</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘little white’; (2) that it received its name in allusion to the <span class="sc">blunt</span> rim of coins. A third is that it received the name from Mr. John <span class="sc">Blunt</span>, the chairman of South Sea Bubble.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1714. <i>Memoirs of John Hall</i> (4 ed.), p. 11. [List of cant words.] <span class="sc">Blunt</span>, money. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act ii., Sc. 3. (<i>Holding out his right hand for the money, and keeping the porter away with the other.</i>) <i>Bob.</i> That’s your sort; give us hold on it. (<i>Takes Mace’s empty hand.</i>) Vy, vhere? <i>Mace.</i> (<i>Keeping the porter back.</i>) Vy, here. <i>Bob.</i> Oh, you are afeard of the <span class="sc">blunt</span>, are you? <i>Mace.</i> No, it ain’t that; only I’m no schollard—so I alvays takes the <span class="sc">blunt</span> vith von hand, and gives the pot vith t’other. It saves chalk and prewents mistakes, +you know. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Oliver Twist</i>, ch. xxxix. ‘It’s all very well,’ said Mr. Sikes; ‘but I must have some <span class="sc">blunt</span> from you to-night.’ ‘I haven’t a piece of coin about me,’ replied the Jew. +</p> +<p class="cit">1878. <i>Notes and Queries</i>, 5 S., x., p. 315. <span class="sc">Blunt</span> … is also a well-known slang term for money. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Punch</i>, vol. LXXXII., p. 147, col. 2. ‘The New Almacks.’ ‘It appears, my dear Jerry,’ said +the Corinthian, ‘that anybody can enter here who chooses to “<i>sport his</i> <span class="sc">blunt</span>” ’—that is, to pay. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blunted</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (old).—Possessed of money. +</p> +<p class="cit">18(?). <i>English Spy</i>, p. 255. Most noble cracks, and worthy cousin trumps,—permit me to introduce a brother +of the togati, fresh as a new-blown rose, and innocent as the lilies of St. Clements. +Be unto him ever ready to promote his wishes, whether for spree or sport, in term +and out of term,—against the Inquisition and their bull-dogs—the town-raff and the +bargees—well-<span class="sc">blunted</span> or stiver-cramped—against dun or don—nob or big wig—so may you never want a bumper +of bishop. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Blush like a Black or Blue Dog</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (old).—Not to blush at all. +</p> +<p class="cit">1579. <span class="sc">Gosson</span>, <i>Apologie of School of Abuse</i>, p. 75. If it bee my fortune too meete with the learned woorkes of this London Sabinus, +that can not playe the <span class="pageNum" id="pb266">[<a href="#pb266">266</a>]</span>part without a prompter, nor utter a wise worde without a piper, you shall see we +will make him to <span class="sc">blush like a blacke dogge</span>, when he is graveled. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>ed.</i> 1634. <span class="sc">Withal</span>, <i>Dictionary</i>, p. 557. <i lang="la">Faciem perfricuit.</i> Hee <span class="sc">blusheth like a blacke dogge</span>, hee hath a brazen face. +</p> +<p class="cit">1738. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Polite Conversation</i> (conv. i.). +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Lord Sp.</i> (to the Maid). Mrs. Betty, how does your body politick? +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Col.</i> Fye, my lord, you’ll make Mrs. Betty blush. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Lady Sm.</i> Blush! Ay, <span class="sc">blush like a blue dog</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1828. <span class="sc">C. K. Sharpe</span> to a lady, in C. K. S.’s <i>Correspondence</i> (1888), II., 421. I send you a pair of blue stockings of my own knitting. I <span class="sc">blush like a blue dog</span> about the workmanship, for I fear they are too short. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>B.N.C.</b>, <i>abbreviation</i> (University).—For Brasenose; initials of Brasen Nose College. In spite of the nose +over the gate, the probability is that the real name was Brasinium. It is still famous +for its beer. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Daily News</i>, March 13, p. 5, col. 1. As when Corpus bumped <span class="sc">b.n.c.</span> years ago, and went head of the river, whereon a spirit of wrath entered into the +<span class="sc">b.n.c.</span> men, and next night they bumped Corpus back again. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Board</b>, <i>verb</i> (military).—1. To borrow. +</p> +<p>2. (nautical.)—To accost; ask of; make a demand; <i>i.e.</i>, to come to close quarters. The allusion is to boarding a ship for a hand-to-hand +conflict; originally in a forcible or hostile sense, but now used in a modified form +for to ‘make up to,’ to ‘make advances to.’ The figure of speech is a very old one, +as will be seen from the following examples. +</p> +<p class="cit">1547. <span class="sc">Earl Surrey</span>, <i>Æneid</i>, IV., 395. At length her self <span class="sc">bordeth</span> Aeneas thus. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1596. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Hamlet</i>, ii., 2. [<i>Enter</i> <span class="sc">Hamlet</span>, reading.] <i>Queen.</i> But look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading. <i>Pol.</i> … I’ll <span class="sc">board</span> him presently:—O, give me leave. +</p> +<p class="cit">1672–1726. <span class="sc">Vanbrugh</span>, <i>False Friend</i>, I., i., 97. What do you expect from <span class="sc">boarding</span> a woman … already heart and soul engaged to another. +</p> +<p class="cit">1867. <span class="sc">Smyth</span>, <i>Sailors’ Word Book</i>. <span class="sc">Board him</span>, a colloquialism for I’ll ask, demand, or accost him. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To board in the smoke</span>, <i>phr.</i> (nautical).—To take one unawares, or by surprise. In the midst of a naval fight boarding +operations were often successfully carried out under cover of the smoke from a broadside. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">On the board</span>, <i>phr.</i> (tailors’).—Enjoying all the privileges and emoluments of a competent workman. When +an apprentice becomes a regular journeyman he goes ‘<span class="sc">on the board</span>.’ Tailors usually work squatting on a low raised platform—hence possibly the expression. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. iii., p. 146. During the term of his imprisonment he became an excellent working +tailor, and was <span class="sc">on the board</span>, as it is termed, among those who are efficient hands. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To keep one’s name on the board</span>, <i>phr.</i> (Cambridge Univ.).—To remain a member of a College. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boarding House</b> or <b>School</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A nickname given by thieves in London to Newgate, but it is equally applicable +to any gaol. New York thieves apply it to the Tombs. [From that sense of Boarding +School = an establishment where persons are boarded and taught, convicts being likened +to scholars.] French thieves call such an institution <i lang="fr">un collège</i>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cage</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb267">[<a href="#pb267">267</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Boarding School.</span> Bridewell, Newgate, or any other prison or house of correction. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boardman</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vagrants’).—A standing patterer; explained by quotation. Sometimes called a ‘sandwich +man.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, I., p. 251. I have no doubt that there are always at least twenty standing patterers—sometimes +they are called <span class="sc">boardmen</span>—at work in London. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 248. They endeavour to attract attention to their papers, or, more commonly, +pamphlets … by means of a board with coloured pictures upon it, illustrative of the +contents of what they sell.… (This) is what is usually denominated in street technology +‘board work.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Board of Green Cloth</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—A card or billiard table. [From <span class="sc">board</span>, a table, + <span class="sc">green cloth</span>, from the colour of the cloth with which the table is covered.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1771. <span class="sc">P. Parsons</span>, <i>New Newmarket</i>, II., 24. That <span class="sc">board of green cloth</span>, the billiard table. +</p> +<p class="cit">1850. <span class="sc">Smedley</span>, <i>Frank Fairlegh</i>, p. 23. ‘I am going down to F——’ ‘As usual, the <span class="sc">board of green cloth</span>, eh? you will go there once too often, if you don’t mind, old fellow.’ ‘That’s my +look out,’ replied Cumberland. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>Digby Grand</i>, ch. vi. Often have I seen him rise from the <span class="sc">board of green cloth</span>, and turning his chair thrice, from right to left, reseat himself at the play-table, +confident that success would follow the mystical manœuvre. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Mohawks</i>, ch. viii. The soft seductive sound of the dice sliding gently on to the <span class="sc">board of green cloth</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Formerly applied to the hulks; latterly to any prison. [The derivation is +obvious, old dismasted ships having long served as places of detention for convicts.] +For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cage</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>Great World of London</i>, p. 82, <i>note</i>. [List of thieves’ names of prisons.] The Hulks, or any Public Works—<span class="sc">The Boat</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (old).—1. Originally to transport; the term is now applied to penal servitude. To +‘get the <span class="sc">boat</span>,’ or to ‘be <span class="sc">boated</span>,’ is to be sentenced to a long term of imprisonment, equivalent to transportation +under the old system. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Boat</span>, <i>subs.</i>, and for synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cop</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (American thieves’.)—To join as partner; evidently a corruption of ‘to be in the +same boat,’ <i>i.e.</i>, to be in the same position or circumstances. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To bail one’s own boat</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—To be self-reliant. A variant is ‘to <span class="sc">paddle one’s own canoe</span>.’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Canoe</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bob</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. A shilling. [The derivation is obscure, but there are several suggested +explanations. Murray points out that there was an old French coin called a <i lang="fr">bobe</i>, but he thinks its survival in English slang is very unlikely. Others think it a +corruption of ‘baubee’ or ‘bawbee,’ a debased Scotch coin, issued in the reign of +James VI. of Scotland, equal in value to a halfpenny. A more likely origin than either +of the foregoing is from <span class="sc">bob</span>, a grub used as bait for fish, the allusion being to money as a bribe.] The old cant +had <span class="sc">bobstick</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) as a synonym, and a spurious plural is sometimes formed of <span class="sc">bob</span>, thus <span class="sc">bobber</span>—<span class="sc">two bobber</span> = a two-shilling piece. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blow</span> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dictionary</i>. <span class="sc">Bob</span> or <span class="sc">bobstick</span>, a shilling. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb268">[<a href="#pb268">268</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act iii., Sc. 3. <i>Tom.</i> Now then, what’s to pay, landlord? <i>Mace.</i> All out, vill be fourteen <span class="sc">bob</span> and a kick, your honour. <i>Tom.</i> Well, there’s a flimsy for you; serve the change out in max to the covies. (<i>Gives money.</i>) +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>I. L.</i> (<i>Misadventures at Margate</i>). I changed a shilling—(which in town the people call a <span class="sc">bob</span>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Punch</i>, vol. LXXXII., p. 74, col. 1. <span class="sc">Accommodation.</span> <i>Swell.</i> ‘Haw—no small change about me.’ <i>Minstrel.</i> ‘Oh, don’t mention ’t sar. A <span class="sc">bob</span> will do sar, and if you’ll call at my club tomorrow, sar, the hall portar will give +you sixpence back, sar. My kyard, sar, etc.!!’ +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—A shoplifter’s assistant; one who receives and carries off stolen goods. +In French he is called <i lang="fr">un nonne</i> or <i lang="fr">un noune</i>. +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—Gin.—<i>See</i> quotations in <span class="sc">Bobstick</span>, and <span class="sc">Drinks</span> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="cit">1749. ‘Honours of the Fleet,’ quoted in Ashton’s <i>The Fleet</i>, p. 286. H’ had strain’d his credit for a Dram of <span class="sc">Bob</span>. +</p> +<p>4. (military.)—An infantry soldier; generally <span class="sc">light-bob</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, a soldier of the light infantry. [This is probably an allusion to their being enlisted +with the Queen’s shilling or <span class="sc">bob</span>.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Mudcrusher</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1844. <span class="sc">W. H. Maxwell</span>, <i>Sports and Adventures in Scotland</i>, xxxv., 282. Me, that never … listened to a <span class="sc">light-bob</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Vanity Fair</i>, ch. xxiv. Mr. Stubble, as may be supposed from his size and slenderness, was of +the <span class="sc">light-bobs</span>. +</p> +<p>5. (Winchester College)<span>.</span>—A large white jug containing about a gallon in measure, and used for beer. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>, p. 85. Each end and Præfect’s mess had their beer served up in a large white jug, +or ‘<span class="sc">bob</span>.’ The vessel used for the same purpose in Commoners’ was called a ‘Joram.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <span class="sc">T. A. Trollope</span>, <i>What I Remember</i>. Only those ‘Juniors’ attended whose office it was to bring away the portions of +bread and cheese and <span class="sc">bobs</span> of beer for consumption in the afternoon. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i> (old).—Lively; nice; in good spirits. +</p> +<p class="cit">1721. <span class="sc">Cibber</span>, <i>Refusal</i>, I., sp. 109. Yesterday at Marybone, they had me all <span class="sc">Bob</span> as a Robin. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">Miss Yonge</span>, <i>Trial</i>, I., 113. ‘That’s a nice girl’.… ‘<span class="sc">Bobber</span> than bobtail.’ [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (old).—To cheat; to trick; to disappoint. Also to <span class="sc">bob out of</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1605. <i>Tryall Chev.</i>, I., in Bullen’s <i>O. Plays</i>, iii., 273. I had rather dye in a ditch than be <span class="sc">bobd</span> of my fayre Thomasin. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Bob</span> (v.), to jog, touch, or give notice by some such like sign; also a cant word for +to trick or cheat. +</p> +<p><i>Intj.</i> (familiar).—Stop! That’s enough! +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Modern Society</i>, June 6. ‘Say when,’ said Bonko, taking up a flagon of whiskey and commencing to +pour out the spirit into my glass. ‘<span class="sc">Bob!</span>’ replied I. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Dry bob</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—Fruitless coition. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Dry bob</span>, <span class="sc">Wet bob</span>, <i>subs.</i> (Eton College).—The first-named is one who devotes himself to cricket or football +and other land sports; the latter one who goes in for rowing and aquatics generally. +The origin of the term is doubtful.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Dry bob</span> and <span class="sc">Wet bob</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1844. <span class="sc">Disraeli</span>, <i>Coningsby</i>, p. 42. ‘It is settled, the match to-morrow shall be between Aquatics and <span class="sc">Dry bobs</span>,’ said a senior boy. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <i>Saturday Review</i>, Aug., p. 212. The friendly rivalry between England and America led some while ago +to a contest between the <span class="sc">wet bobs</span>, to use an Eton phrase, of either country, and it was only fair that the <span class="sc">dry bobs</span> should show what they could do. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb269">[<a href="#pb269">269</a>]</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">All is bob</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—All’s safe; ‘serene’; ‘gay.’ For synonyms, <i>see</i> O<span>.</span>K. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. [<span class="sc">All’s bob</span> is defined as foregoing.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Jack Sheppard</i>, p. 12. A moment afterwards, the street was illumined by a blaze of torchlight, and +a tumultuous uproar announced the arrival of the first detachment of Minters. Mr. +Wood rushed instantly to meet them. ‘Hurrah!’ shouted he, waving his hat triumphantly +over his head. ‘Saved!’ ‘Ay, ay, it’s <span class="sc">all bob</span>, my covey! You’re safe enough, that’s certain!’ responded the Minters. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Bear a bob!</span> <i>phr.</i> (common).—Be brisk! look sharp! +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Bob a nod</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common.)—A shilling a head. [From <span class="sc">bob</span>, slang for shilling, + <span class="sc">nod</span>, the head.] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To give the bob</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To give the door. An old term used by Massinger—‘It can be no other but <span class="sc">to give</span> me <span class="sc">the bob</span>.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">S’help me bob</span>, <i>phr.</i> (low).—A street oath, equivalent to ‘So help me God’; a corrupted form of the legal +oath. ‘So help’ is pronounced <i>swelp</i>. There are several variants, such as <span class="sc">s’help the cat</span>—<span class="sc">my greens</span>—<span class="sc">the taturs</span>, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>I. L.</i> (<i>Dead Drummer</i>). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">For his jaw-work would never, I’m sure, <span class="sc">s’elp me bob</span>, </p> +<p class="line">Have come for to go for to do sich a job! </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1880. <span class="sc">Jas. Payn</span>, <i>Confid. Agent</i>, ch. xix. ‘Not another word will I say, <span class="sc">s’help me bob</span>.’ And John rolled over in his bed like an indignant porpoise. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To shift one’s bob</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To go away. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bobbing around</span>, ‘to go expeditiously from place to place.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bobber</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. A fellow-workman; mate; or ‘<span class="sc">chum</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i> for synonyms). +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">W. White</span>, <i>Round Wrekin</i>, 34. <span class="sc">Bobber</span> being the equivalent of chum. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <i>Daily News</i>, May 19. As he sells these, the buyers or their <span class="sc">bobbers</span> carry them off. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>2. A spurious plural of <span class="sc">bob</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) = a shilling. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bobbery</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A noise; squabble; disturbance; or ‘racket.’ [An Anglo-Indian representation +of <i>Bāp re!</i> O father! a common exclamation of surprise or grief.—<i>Yule.</i> Murray thinks the evidence for its origination in India is decisive, other plausible +derivations to the contrary notwithstanding.] The first of the following quotations +shows an earlier use by thirteen years than that given by the <i>New English Dictionary</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1803. <span class="sc">Kenney</span>, <i>Raising the Wind</i>, II., i. If I don’t go back, and kick up such a <span class="sc">bobbery</span>— +</p> +<p class="cit">1833. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Peter Simple</i>, ch. ii. I’ll bet a wager there’ll be a <span class="sc">bobbery</span> in the pigsty before long, for they are ripe for mischief. +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Midshipman Easy</i>, ch. xix. ‘I can do nothing but there’s a <span class="sc">bobbery</span> at the bottom of it.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <i>Punch</i>, 17 May, 227. I might in quiet hold my own, And not go kicking up a <span class="sc">bobbery</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bobbish</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Frequently <span class="sc">pretty bobbish</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, hearty; in good health and spirits; clever; spruce. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bob</span>, <i>adj.</i> So also <span class="sc">bobbishly</span>, <i>adv.</i> +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, in <i>Lockhart</i>, xliv<span>.</span> (1842), 394. I trust you will find me pretty <span class="sc">bobbish</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>The Detective Police</i>, in <i>Reprinted Pieces</i>, p. 247. ‘Halloa, Butcher! is that you?’ ‘Yes, it’s me, How do you find yourself?’ +‘<span class="sc">Bobbish</span>,’ he says. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Great Expectations</i>, ch. iv., p. 13. Every Christmas Day, he retorted, as he now retorted, ‘It’s no <span class="pageNum" id="pb270">[<a href="#pb270">270</a>]</span>more than your merits. And now are you all <span class="sc">bobbish</span>, and how’s sixpennorth of halfpence?’ meaning me. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <span class="sc">W. D. Howells</span>, <i>Dr. Breen’s Practice</i>, ch. vii. ‘I didn’t know that I mustn’t look downcast. I didn’t suppose it would +be very polite, under the circumstances, to go round looking as <span class="sc">bobbish</span> as I feel.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bobbles</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The testicles—a corrupted form of <span class="sc">bawbells</span>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cods</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bobby</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A policeman. This nickname, though possibly not derived from, was certainly +popularised by the fact that the Metropolitan Police Act of 1828 was mainly the work +of Mr., afterwards Sir Robert Peel. Long before that statesman remodelled the police, +however, the term ‘<span class="sc">bobby</span> the beadle’ was in use to signify a guardian of a public square or other open space. +There seems, however, a lack of evidence, and examples of its literary use prior to +1851 have not been discovered. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Beak</span>, sense 1. +</p> +<p>At the Universities the Proctors are or used to be called <span class="sc">bobbies</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, I., p. 16. It is often said in admiration of such a man that he could muzzle half +a dozen <span class="sc">bobbies</span> before breakfast! +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Punch</i>, No. 2038. Going round a corner and crying, <span class="sc">Bobby! bobby! bobby!</span> when he saw a Proctor. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Punch</i>, July 26, p. 41, col. 2. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">But oh, for the grip of the ‘<span class="sc">Bobby’s</span>’ hand </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Upon his neck that day. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1889. <i>The Mirror</i>, Aug. 26, p. 7, col. 2. On the back seat was perched the perfidious Amelia Ann, the +lust of conquest clearly written upon her sinful and perspiring face. She had put +her cat in the birdcage, its former occupant being, I presume, inside the cat.… In +this order the ghastly procession moved off, to the evident amusement of a ‘<span class="sc">bobby</span>,’ whose beat seems to include nothing beyond the area-railings of the opposite house. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bobby-Twister</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A burglar or thief, who, when resisting pursuit or capture, uses violence. +Of obvious derivation.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Thieves</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bob-Cull</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A good fellow; a pleasant companion. [From <span class="sc">bob</span> (<i>adj.</i>) = nice, lively + <span class="sc">cull</span>, old cant for a man.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bob My Pal</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming slang).—A girl, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘gal.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bobstick</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A shilling’s worth. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bob</span>, sense 1. +</p> +<p class="cit">1789. <span class="sc">Geo. Parker</span>, <i>Life’s Painter</i>, p. 162. <span class="sc">Bobstick</span> of rum slim. That is, a shilling’s worth of punch. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act ii., Sc. 5. <i>Tom.</i> <i>Allons donc</i>—Waiter, bring some wine. <i>Log.</i> Hang cards! bring me a <span class="sc">bobstick</span> of rum slim, or a glass of Barsac—stay, on second thoughts, I’ll have a sniker of +green tea punch. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bob Tail</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A lewd woman. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack-hack</span>. +</p> +<p>2. An impotent man or eunuch. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Tag, rag, and bobtail</span>; a mob of all sorts of low people; the common herd; the rabble. +</p> +<p class="cit">1659–60. <span class="sc">Pepys</span>, <i>Diary</i>, Mar. 6. The dining-room … was full of <span class="sc">tag, rag, and bobtail</span>, dancing, singing, and drinking. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Wolcot</span> (‘P. Pindar’), <i>Ode to R. A.’s</i>, ii., wks. (1812) I., 80. <span class="sc">Tag-rags and Bobtails</span> of the sacred Brush. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1820. <span class="sc">Byron</span>, <i>Blues</i>, ii., 23. The <span class="sc">rag, tag, and bobtail</span> of those they call ‘Blues.’ [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb271">[<a href="#pb271">271</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1841. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Barnaby Rudge</i>, xxxv. ‘We don’t take in no <span class="sc">tagrag and bobtail</span> at our house.’ [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boco</b>, <i>subs.</i> (originally pugilistic, now common).—1. The nose. [Probably from <span class="sc">beak</span>, sense 3.] The form employed by American thieves is <span class="sc">boke</span>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Conk</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Besant and Rice</span>, <i>Seamy Side</i>, ch. i. ‘A common keeper, who was in the lot, got a heavy oner on the <span class="sc">boko</span> for his share.’ ‘Boys,’ said Mr. Hamblin, ‘who use slang come to the gallows. <span class="sc">Boko</span> is—’ ‘Conk or <span class="sc">boko</span>,’ said Nicolas the vulgar. ‘It’s all the same.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Ally Sloper’s Half Holiday</i>, July 6. Dear Old Blistered <span class="sc">Boko</span>,—I trust you will allow me to thank you and your Graphologist for my character I +received this morning. My friends say it is correct. I am saving up my pocket-money +for a bottle of nose bloomer. I can see your <span class="sc">boko</span> blushing at the prospect. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Sporting Times</i>, July 6. The Gnat, with the Cunning peculiar to the Wicked flew up the Lion’s <span class="sc">boko</span> and Stung <span class="corr" id="xd33e46004" title="Source: hin">him</span> so Badly, that the Great Beast rent himself to Death with his Own Claws. +</p> +<p>2. Nonsense; ‘bosh.’ [Of unknown derivation, and it seems to have no connection with +sense 1.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Punch</i>, 25 Sept., p. 145. Lop-sided Free Trade is all <span class="sc">boko</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bodier</b>, <i>subs.</i> (pugilistic).—A blow on the side of the body.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Rib-roaster</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bodkin</b>, <i>subs.</i> (sporting).—Amongst sporting men, a person who takes his turn between the sheets +on alternate nights, when an hotel has twice as many visitors as it can comfortably +lodge; as, for instance, during a race-week. A transferred sense from +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To ride</span> or <span class="sc">sit bodkin</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To take a place and be wedged in between other persons when the accommodation +is intended for two only. +</p> +<p class="cit">1638. <span class="sc">Ford</span>, <i>Fancies</i>, IV., i. (1811), 186. Where but two lie in a bed, you must be—<span class="sc">bodkin</span>, bitch-baby—must ye? [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1798. <i>Loves of the Triangles</i>, 182. While the pressed <span class="sc">bodkin</span>, punched and squeezed to death, Sweats in the mid-most place. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Book of Snobs</i>, ch. xxxiv. The writer supposes Aubrey to come to town in post-chaise and pair, sitting +<span class="sc">bodkin</span> probably between his wife and sister. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Body-Cover</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—A coat. One is almost tempted to ask whether this is the only +garment known to the criminal classes. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Wrap-rascal</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Body of Divinity Bound in Black Calf</b>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—A parson. So quoted in the <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum</i> [1811]. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Devil-dodger</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Body-Slangs</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—Fetters. [From <span class="sc">slang</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), a chain.]—<i>See</i> quot. and for synonyms, <span class="sc">Darbies</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Vaux</span>, <i>Memoirs</i>. <span class="sc">Body-slangs</span> are of two kinds. Each consists of a heavy iron ring to go round the waist, to which +are attached in one case two bars or heavy chains, connected with the fetters round +the ankles, in the other case a link at each side attached to a handcuff. Into these +the wrists are locked, and thus held down to the prisoner’s sides. The latter are +now only to be found in museums. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Body-Snatcher</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A bailiff or runner. [The <span class="sc">snatch</span> was the trick by which the bailiff captured the delinquent.] These terms are now +obsolete, so far as the pursuits mentioned <span class="pageNum" id="pb272">[<a href="#pb272">272</a>]</span>are concerned. They are mentioned by Parker [1781] in his <i>View of Society</i>, II., 70. +</p> +<p>2. A policeman. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Beak</span>, sense 1. +</p> +<p class="cit">1858. <span class="sc">A. Mayhew</span>, <i>Paved with Gold</i>, bk. III., ch. i., p. 254. ‘Now, if you or I was to do such a dodge as that, we should +have the <span class="sc">body-snatchers</span> (police officers) after us.’ +</p> +<p>3. (American.)—A generally objectionable individual. This variety is especially known +as a <span class="sc">mean body-snatcher</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p>4. (popular.)—A violator of graves; a ‘resurrectionist.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1833. <span class="sc">Sir F. Head</span>, <i>Bubbles from the Brunnen</i>, 126. Any one of our <span class="sc">body-snatchers</span> would have rubbed his rough hands. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <i>Reader</i>, Aug. 22. At that time (1827–28) … <span class="sc">body-snatching</span> became a trade. +</p> +<p>5. (common.)—An undertaker. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cold cook</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bog</b>, <i>subs.</i> (prison).—1. The works at Dartmoor, on which convicts labour; during recent years +a large quantity of land has been reclaimed in this way. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. iii., p. 158. These were the men destined for outdoor work, the <span class="sc">bogs</span>, as the places where the different outside gangs worked were called [at Dartmoor]. +</p> +<p>2. (low.)—An abbreviated form of <span class="sc">bog-house</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), or <span class="sc">bog-shop</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To ease oneself; to evacuate.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bury a Quaker</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bogey.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bogy</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boggle-De-Botch</b>, <b>Boggledy-Botch</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial).—A bungle; ‘mess’; ‘hash.’ [From <span class="sc">boggle</span>, ‘to fumble,’ ‘to bungle,’ + <span class="sc">botch</span>, ‘to bungle’ or ‘to construct clumsily.’] <span class="sc">Boggle</span> by itself is more frequently employed. +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">Miss Edgeworth</span>, <i>Helen</i>, ch. xxvi. A fine <span class="sc">boggle-de-botch</span> I have made of it.… I am aware it is not a canonical word,—classical, I mean; nor +in nor out of any dictionary perhaps—but when people are warm, they cannot stand picking +terms. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bog-House</b>, <b>Bog-Shop</b>, <i>subs.</i> (low).—A privy; a necessary house. The term, as will be seen, is an old one. [The +derivation is probably from <span class="sc">bog</span>, a morass of decaying matter; a soft, spongy place.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Bury a Quaker</span> and <span class="sc">Mrs. Jones</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>English Rogue</i>, pt. I., ch. xii., p. 123 (1874). Fearing I should catch cold, they out of pity covered +me warm in a <span class="sc">bogg-house</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1703. <span class="sc">Ward</span>, <i>London Spy</i>, pt. III., p. 47. Its walls being adorn’d with as many unsavoury <i>Finger-dabs</i> as an <i>Inns of Court</i> <span class="sc">Bog-house</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <span class="sc">B. Martin</span>, <i>Eng. Dict.</i>, 2 ed. <span class="sc">Bog-house</span>, a privy, or necessary-house. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boglander</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—An Irishman. [From the boggy and marshy character of a considerable portion +of the Emerald Isle.] <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bog-trotter</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1698–1700. <span class="sc">Ward</span>, <i>London Spy</i>, pt. XVI., p. 383. [<span class="sc">Boglander</span> is the name applied to an Irishman in this work.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bog Lander</span>, an Irishman. Ireland being famous for its large bogs which furnish the chief fuel +in many parts of that kingdom. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> [The same definition given as in Grose.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bog Latin</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Irish).—A spurious mode of speech simulating the Latin in construction.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Dog Latin</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb273">[<a href="#pb273">273</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bog-Oranges</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—Potatoes. The phrase is an allusion to the vegetable in question forming +a very substantial food staple of the Irish peasantry, with whom, in the popular mind, +potatoes are largely associated. Hence probably the nickname. <i>Cf.</i>, Murphy. [<span class="sc">Oranges</span>, from the shape, + <span class="sc">bog</span> = Irish, Bogland being a humorous nick-name for the Emerald Isle.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bog-trotter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—A satirical name for an Irishman. Camden, however [<i>c.</i> 1605], speaking of the ‘debateable land’ on the borders of England and Scotland, +says, ‘both these dales breed notable <span class="sc">bog-trotters</span>.’ From this the original sense would appear to have been one accustomed to walk across +bogs. As a nickname for an Irishman, it dates at least from 1671. +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>English Rogue</i>, pt. I., ch. xxvii. (Repr. 1874), p. 232. [Irishmen are spoken of as <span class="sc">bog-trotters</span> in this work.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">Sala</span>, <i>Gaslight and Daylight</i>, ch. xxix. Gaunt reapers and <span class="sc">bog-trotters</span> in those traditional blue body-coats, leathern smalls, and bell-crowned hats, that +seem to be manufactured nowhere save in Ireland. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bog-trotting</b>, <i>adj.</i> (familiar).—A contemptuous epithet applied to one living among bogs; <i>e.g.</i>, a <span class="sc">bog-trotting</span> Irishman. +</p> +<p class="cit">1758–65. <span class="sc">Goldsmith</span>, <i>On Quack Doctors</i> (Essays and Poems, 1836), p. 127. Rock advises the world to beware of <span class="sc">bog-trotting</span> quacks. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Pendennis</i>, I., p. 169. The impudent, <span class="sc">bog-trotting</span> scamp dare not threaten me! +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 191. ‘What do you mean by calling <i>me</i> Irish? it is <i>you</i> that are Irish, you——.’ ‘Ha! ha! ha! ha!’ jerked out Fagan. ‘There, I tould you so. +He can’t stand to be called by his true name; the <span class="sc">bog-trotting</span> rascal denies his Ould Ireland for a mother.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bogus</b>, <i>adj.</i> (American, now common).—Spurious: fictitious; a term applied to anything sham, or +to that which is not what it professes to be. Various accounts, some of them of a +circumstantial character, are given as to the genesis of this word. One thing only +seems certain; and that is its American origin. The generally received derivation, +hitherto, has been that given by the <i>Boston Courier</i> (12 June, 1857) to the effect that the word is a vile corruption of the Italian name +Borghese, a notorious swindler, who about the year 1837 literally flooded the Western +and South-western States with fictitious cheques, notes, and bills of exchange and +similar securities to an enormous amount. It is said that the name was gradually corrupted +first to <i>borges</i> and then to <span class="sc">bogus</span>, and the man Borghese being associated in the popular mind with doubtful money transactions, +his name so corrupted into <span class="sc">bogus</span> became applied to fraudulent papers and practices, and latterly to any spurious or +counterfeit object, as <span class="sc">bogus</span> money, hair, diamonds, accusations, etc. Yet another suggestion is one put forward +by Mr. Jas. Russell Lowell. He thinks it has descended in a corrupted form from the +French <i lang="fr">Bagasse</i>, the refuse of the sugar cane after the juice has been expressed. This worthless +product has, it is suggested, given the name to other worthless things having travelled +from Louisiana up the Mississippi, <span class="pageNum" id="pb274">[<a href="#pb274">274</a>]</span>and thence throughout the Union, finally spreading itself over the English speaking +world. A few, however, affect to regard it as a corruption of [hocus] pocus, and say +that it refers to the German ‘<i lang="de">Hocus Pocus Imperatus, wer nicht sieht ist blind</i>.’ +</p> +<p>The latest light upon the history of the word is thrown, as usual, by the indefatigable +Dr. Murray, who, while slily satirising the ‘bogus derivations circumstantially given,’ +makes another attempt to solve the riddle. He says: ‘Dr. S. Willard, of Chicago, in +a letter to the editor of this Dictionary, quotes from the <i>Painesville</i> (Ohio) <i>Telegraph</i> of July 6 and Nov. 2, 1827, the word <span class="sc">bogus</span> as a <i>subs.</i>, applied to an apparatus for coining false money. Mr. Eber D. Howe, who was then +editor of that paper, describes in his <i>Autobiography</i> (1878) the discovery of such a piece of mechanism in the hands of a gang of coiners +at Painesville, in May, 1827; it was a mysterious looking object, and some one in +the crowd styled it a <span class="sc">bogus</span>, a designation adopted in the succeeding numbers of the paper. Dr. Willard considers +this to have been short for <i>tantrabogus</i>, a word familiar to him from his childhood, and which in his father’s time was commonly +applied in Vermont to any ill-looking object; he points out that <i>tantarabobs</i> is given in Halliwell as a Devonshire word for the devil.’ [<span class="sc">Bogus</span> seems thus to be related to <span class="sc">bogy</span>, etc.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1825. <span class="sc">Hughes</span>, in J. Ludlow’s <i>Hist. U.S.</i>, 338. This precious house of representatives—the <span class="sc">bogus</span> legislature as it was at once called. +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <span class="sc">S. L. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’) <i>Innocents at Home</i>, ch. xvii. Nobody had ever received his <span class="sc">bogus</span> history as gospel before; its genuineness had always been called in question either +by words or looks; but here was a man that not only swallowed it all down, but was +grateful for the dose. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">M. Collins</span>, <i>Frances</i>, ch. xxxv. ‘They’ve got some good money, as well as <span class="sc">bogus</span> notes.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Saturday Review</i>, March 31, p. 399, col. 2. M. Soleirol had probably a number of forged autographs +of Molière; his whole collection was a <span class="sc">bogus</span> assortment of frauds. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bogy</b>, <b>Bogey</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A landlord. An attributive usage of the more familiar meanings—(1) the +devil; (2) a person much dreaded. The transition from sense 2 to that which signifies +a landlord is easy. A French equivalent is Monsieur Vautour; <i lang="fr">vautour</i> = a vulture; and the term is applied to a hard-hearted landlord. In passing, it may +perhaps be mentioned (having in view the uncertainty which Murray confesses hangs +round the history of this word in its primary meanings) that <span class="sc">ask Bogy</span>, as a reply to a question, occurs in Grose [1785]. It is true it is there associated +with a vulgarism which, however, on the face of it, appears to have had little to +do with the expression, except perhaps in the not over clean mind of the burly <i lang="fr">bon-vivant</i> who compiled the dictionary in question. It seems to have been used much as the modern +‘God knows’! or ‘<span class="sc">Bramah knows</span>’ under similar circumstances. This, at any rate, would carry it back, in very much +its present form, much earlier than 1825, Murray’s earliest trace of it. Grose <span class="pageNum" id="pb275">[<a href="#pb275">275</a>]</span>says it was ‘sea wit,’ whatever that may mean. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i> (studios’).—Sombre, or dark in tint. Said of a painting exhibiting these characteristics. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bohn</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American College).—A translation; a <span class="sc">pony</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). The volumes of Bohn’s <i>Classical Library</i> are in such general use among undergraduates in American Colleges, that <span class="sc">Bohn</span> has come to be a common name for a translation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <i>Songs, Biennial Jubilee, Yale College.</i> ’Twas plenty of skin with a good deal of <span class="sc">bohn</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boil</b>, <i>verb</i> (old).—To betray; ‘to <span class="sc">Peach</span>,’ which <i>see</i> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="cit">1602. <span class="sc">Rowlands</span>, <i>Greene’s Coney Catchers</i>, 16. His cloyer or follower fortwith <span class="sc">boyles</span> him, that is, bewrayes him. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1611. <span class="sc">Middleton and Dekker</span>, <i>Roaring Girle</i>, wks., 1873, III., 220. Wee are smoakt … wee are <span class="sc">boyl’d</span>, pox on her! [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boil Down</b>, <i>verb</i> (popular).—To reduce in bulk by condensing or epitomizing. When a literary work is +reduced to smaller compass by the presentation only of the main or salient features, +it is said to be <span class="sc">boiled down</span>. [The expression is a figurative use (quite recent by-the-bye) of <span class="sc">boiling down</span> in the sense of lessening the bulk by boiling.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Sat. Review</i>, No. 1288, 28. It is surprising to see how much research Mr. S. has sometimes contrived +<span class="sc">to boil down</span> into a single line. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <span class="sc">G. Dolly</span>, <i>Dickens as I Knew Him</i>, p. 125. The newspaper and political elements having been consulted, and their opinions +having been <span class="sc">boiled down</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <span class="sc">H. Frederic</span>, in <i>Scribn. Mag.</i>, I., 479. ‘<span class="sc">To boil down</span>’ columns of narrative into a few lines of bald, cold statement. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Polytechnic Mag.</i>, 25 Oct., p. 258. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Whatever you have to say, my friend, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Whether witty, or grave, or gay— </p> +<p class="line">Condense as much as ever you can, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And say in the readiest way; </p> +<p class="line">And whether you write on rural affairs, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Or particular things in town, </p> +<p class="line">Just a word of friendly advice—<span class="sc">boil it down</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Boiled Shirt</b>, <b>Biled Shirt</b> or <b>Boiled Rag</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—In the West, <span class="sc">biled shirt</span> is the odd name given to a shirt of white linen, and it is not difficult to see the +line of reasoning from which the term derives its significance. In the active stirring +life of the West little count is taken of the <i>convenances</i> of civilization, and only on Sundays and festive occasions would the woollen undergarment +be discarded for the white linen article. Indeed, in many cases, the former would +be worn until it literally dropped to pieces. Now white shirts are facetiously known +as <span class="sc">biled shirts</span> all over the States, and only recently (May, 1888) a question in dispute between +the employés of the Chicago Tramway Companies and the managers of the same was whether +the former should wear, when on duty, coloured or <span class="sc">biled shirts</span>. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bald-faced shirt</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <span class="sc">McClure</span>, <i>Rocky Mountains</i>, p. 412. In order to attend the Governor’s reception, I borrowed a <span class="sc">boiled shirt</span>, and plunged in with a Byron collar, and polished boots, and also the other necessary +apparel. +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <span class="sc">S. L. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>Innocents at Home</i>, ch. xii. But they were rough in those times! … if a man wanted a fight on his hands +without any annoying delay, all he had to do was to appear in public in a white shirt +or a stove-pipe hat, and he would be accommodated. For those people hated aristocrats. +They had a particular and <span class="pageNum" id="pb276">[<a href="#pb276">276</a>]</span>malignant animosity toward what they called a <span class="sc">biled shirt</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <i>Dublin Univ. Mag.</i>, Feb., p. 219. Every man arrays himself in ‘store-clothes’ and <span class="sc">boiled shirts</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>New York World</i>, 13 May. Is it possible that the Chicagoans never heard of white shirts before this +spring? May be the street-railway presidents never saw a starched shirt (I must deplore +the use of the word <span class="sc">biled</span> as applied to shirts) until this year. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boiler</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—1. A plain coffee-pot used for heating water. Called fourpenny +and sixpenny boilers, not from their price, but from the quantity of milk they will +hold: <span class="trans" title="to pan"><span lang="grc" class="grek">τὸ παν</span></span> <span class="sc">boilers</span> were large tin saucepan-like vessels in which water for hot <span class="sc">bidets</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) was heated. +</p> +<p>2. <i>See</i> <span class="sc">Pot boiler</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boiler-Plated</b>, <i>adj.</i> (American).—Imperturbable; stolid; stoical. [The simile is akin to that contained +in expressions like iron-clad, copper-bottomed, etc., drawn mainly from marine phraseology.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boilers</b> or <b>Brompton Boilers</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. A name originally given to the new Kensington Museum and School of +Art, in allusion to the peculiar form of the buildings, and the fact of their being +mainly composed of, and covered with, sheet iron. This has been changed since the +extensive alterations in the building, or rather pile of buildings, and the term <span class="sc">boilers</span> is now applied to the Bethnal Green Museum.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Pepper-boxes</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Daily News</i>, July 9, p. 5, col. 1. The building is merely a fragment of the old ‘<span class="sc">Brompton boilers</span>,’ set up originally for the South Kensington Museum. +</p> +<p>2. (Royal Military Academy.)—Boiled potatoes. Fried potatoes are called <span class="sc">greasers</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boiling</b> or <b>Biling</b>. <span class="sc">Whole boiling</span> or <span class="sc">biling</span>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (common).—The whole lot; entire quantity. [A figurative usage, from a quantity boiled +at one time.] Variants are the <span class="sc">whole gridiron</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) and <span class="sc">all the shoot</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span> (‘Sam Slick’), <i>Clockmaker</i>, 3 S., ch. xviii. The last mile, he said, tho’ the shortest one of the <span class="sc">whole bilin’</span>, took the longest [time] to do it by a jug full. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Dog Fiend</i>, xiii. [He] may … whip the <span class="sc">whole boiling</span> of us off to the Ingees. +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Bleak House</i>, ch. lix., p. 496. ‘And the <span class="sc">whole bileing</span> of people was mixed up in the same business, and no other.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">E. L. Linton</span>, <i>Patricia Kemball</i>, ch. xxii. ‘He have Dora? No, not if he licked my foot for her, and I broke the <span class="sc">whole boiling</span> of them—as I will!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boil One’s Lobster</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (old).—To enter the army after having been in the church. [From <span class="sc">lobster</span>, a slang term for a soldier, the allusion being to the change in colour which lobsters +undergo in the process of boiling, turning from a bluish black to red.] <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Black coat</span> and <span class="sc">Red coat</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boke</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—The nose. [This may either be derived directly from <span class="sc">beak</span>, sense 3, or indirectly from <span class="sc">boko</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Conk</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bold as Brass</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (popular).—Audaciously forward; presumptuous; without shame. The simile, or at least +the general idea, seems to be an old <span class="pageNum" id="pb277">[<a href="#pb277">277</a>]</span>one. Shakspeare (<i>see</i> quot.) uses the expression ‘a face of brass,’ and even to this day <span class="sc">brass</span>, sense 1 (<i>q.v.</i>), is synonymous with impudence or ‘cheek.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1594. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Love’s Labour Lost</i>, v., 2. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line"><i>Biron.</i> Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury. </p> +<p class="line">Can any <span class="sc">face of brass</span> hold longer out?—— </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1846. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Vanity Fair</i>, II., p. 12. He came in as <span class="sc">bold as brass</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Lovel the Widower</i>, p. 195. ‘A nursery governess at the wages of a housemaid’ I continued, <span class="sc">bold as Corinthian brass</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1882. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘Timothy Titus.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The name belongs to brave men, and I’m as <span class="sc">bold as brass</span>, </p> +<p class="line">I do not wear the lion’s skin and show myself an ass; </p> +<p class="line">I’m full of pluck and can defy, like Ajax, anything, </p> +<p class="line">And if you put me to the test, a proof I soon can bring. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Boler</b>, also <b>Bowler</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A stiff felt hat. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cady.</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <i>Sat. Review</i>, Sept. 21, 297. We are informed that he … wore, or rather carried in his hand, a +white <span class="sc">bowler</span> hat. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">Pebody</span>, <i>Eng. Journalism</i>, xxi., 158. The ministers, in <span class="sc">bowlers</span> and pea-jackets, are to be found upon the shore of highland locks. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Answers</i>, June 8, p. 24. Most of the men were clothed in loud and greasy suits of tweed, and +wore what are known as <span class="sc">bowler</span> hats, many of them much the worse for wear. The ladies affected fine and smart costumes, +but as the greater part of their dresses had seen long months of service, the smartness +was somewhat of the bedraggled order. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bolly</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Marlborough College).—Pudding. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bolt</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The throat. [This curious term would seem to be derived from <span class="sc">bolt</span> = to gulp down.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act iii., Sc. 3. <i>Tom.</i> Here, Dusty, my prince, now then, sluice your <span class="sc">bolt</span>. (<i>Gives Bob gin.</i>) <i>Bob.</i> Vell, your honours, here’s luck. (<i>Bolts gin.</i>) That’s a regular kwortern, I knows by my mouth. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (at one period slang, now recognised).—1. To escape; to leave suddenly. <span class="sc">Bolt</span> is an instance of a word which once orthodox, subsequently fell into disrepute, but +which, after having for generations served as a mere slang term, is now nearly as +respectable as when Dryden wrote: ‘I have reflected on those who, from time to time, +have shot into the world, some <span class="sc">bolting</span> out on the stage with vast applause, and others hissed off.’ The following are a +few examples of its use. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Amputate</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1668. <span class="sc">Etherege</span>, <i>She Would if She Could</i>, I., i. (1704), p. 94. Is he gone? <i>Court.</i> Ay, ay! you may venture to <span class="sc">bolt</span> now. +</p> +<p class="cit">1712. <span class="sc">Arbuthnot</span>, <i>Hist. of John Bull</i>, pt. IV., ch. vi. Then, of a sudden, <span class="sc">bolting</span> into the room, he began to tell.… +</p> +<p class="cit">1752. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Amelia</i>, bk. XI., ch. vii. In his way home, Booth was met by a lady in a chair, who immediately +upon seeing him … <span class="sc">bolted</span> out of it. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act i., Sc, 7. <i>Log.</i> Come along, then. Now, Jerry, chivey! <i>Jerry.</i> Chivey? <i>Log.</i> Mizzle? <i>Jerry.</i> Mizzle? <i>Log.</i> Tip your rags a gallop! <i>Jerry.</i> Tip my rags a gallop? <i>Log.</i> Walk your trotters! <i>Jerry.</i> Walk my trotters? <i>Log.</i> <span class="sc">Bolt!</span> <i>Jerry.</i> <span class="sc">Bolt?</span> oh, aye! I’m fly now. You mean go. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>I. L.</i> (<i>M. of Venice</i>). Jessy ransack’d the house, popp’d her breeks on, and when so Disguis’d, <span class="sc">bolted</span> off with her beau—one Lorenzo. +</p> +<p class="cit">1843. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Martin Chuzzlewit</i>, ch. ix., p. 90. He was more strongly tempted … to make excursive <span class="sc">bolts</span> into the neighbouring alleys when he answered the door. +</p> +<p>2. (American<span class="corr" id="xd33e47170" title="Source: .)">).</span>—The usage in the United States indicates the <span class="pageNum" id="pb278">[<a href="#pb278">278</a>]</span>right of the independently minded to revolt against partisan rule, as ‘He <span class="sc">bolted</span> the party nominations.’ Also substantively, as ‘He has organized a <span class="sc">bolt.</span>’ The word derived this meaning from its sporting application to a horse when it becomes +unmanageable on the race-course. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bolter</span>. It is rarely used with its dictionary meaning in political connections; and, when +so used, is generally misunderstood by the average reader. +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <i>St. Louis Democrat</i>, 3 April. ‘Several of our contemporaries have announced it as a well-established +fact, that Carl Schurz has <span class="sc">bolted</span> from the Republican party. We have the very best authority for denying the report.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Daily Inter-Ocean</i>, 3 Feb. What the Register does object to are the fellows who <span class="sc">bolt</span> the ticket and support the opposition candidate when they can not control nominations. +</p> +<p>3. (colloquial.)—To eat hurriedly without chewing; to swallow whole; to gulp down. +Wolcot in a note to the first quotation hereunder appended, explains <span class="sc">bolt</span> as a Hampshire word. ‘A rapid deglutition of bacon, without the <i>sober ceremony</i> of mastication.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1794. <span class="sc">Wolcot</span> (‘P. Pindar’), <i>Ode to Tyrants</i>, in wks. (Dublin, 1795), vol. II., p. 527. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Bold push’d the Emp’ror on, with stride so noble, </p> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">Bolting</span> his subjects with majestic gobble. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1843. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Martin Chuzzlewit</i>, ch. xvi., p. 171. Dyspeptic individuals <span class="sc">bolted</span> their food in wedges. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Dorrit</i>, bk. I., ch. xiii., 101. ‘Give me as short a time as you like to <span class="sc">bolt</span> my meals in, and keep me at it.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, Jan. 10, p. 5, col. 3. The dangerous habit of <span class="sc">bolting</span> a light luncheon in two or three minutes. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Getting the bolt</span>, <i>phr.</i> (thieves’).—Being sentenced to penal servitude. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Boat</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To turn the corner of Bolt Street</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—A humorous expression for running away. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bolt</span>, sense 1, also <span class="sc">Queer Street</span>, and for synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Amputate</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bolter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. Explained by quotation. The privileged places referred to were such as +Whitefriars, the Mint, Higher and Lower Alsatia, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Bolter</span> (s.), a cant name for one who hides himself in his own house, or some privileged +place, and dares only peep, but not go out of his retreat. +</p> +<p>2. One who ‘bolts’; especially applied to horses, but figuratively to persons in the +sense of one given to throwing off restraint; in American parlance one who ‘<span class="sc">kicks</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Paris Sk. Bk.</i> (1872), 244. The engine may explode … or be a <span class="sc">bolter</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1850. <span class="sc">F. E. Smedley</span>, <i>Frank Fairlegh</i>, ch. xiii. ‘Three of the horses had never been in harness before, and the fourth +was a <span class="sc">bolter</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Bleak House</i>, ch. lviii., p. 483. This sparkling sally is to the effect that, although he always +knew she was the best-groomed woman in the stud, he had no idea she was a <span class="sc">bolter</span>. It is immensely received in turf-circles. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <span class="sc">C. J. Dunphie</span>, <i>The Chameleon</i>, p. 17. It is better to ride a steady old plodder than to trust your neck to a <span class="sc">bolter</span>. +</p> +<p>3. (American.)—One who exercises the right of abstention in regard to his political +party. <i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bolt</span>, <i>verb</i>, sense 2. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Atlantic Monthly</i>, LII., 327. To whom a ‘scratcher’ or a <span class="sc">bolter</span> is more hateful than the Beast<span id="xd33e47363">.</span> [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb279">[<a href="#pb279">279</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>American</i>, VIII., 100. To denounce the twenty-seven as <span class="sc">bolters</span> from their party. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bolt-in-Tun</b>, <i>phr.</i> (London thieves’).—Bolted; run away. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Memoirs</i>. A term founded on the cant word ‘bolt,’ and merely a fanciful variation very common +among <i>flash</i> persons, there being in London a famous inn so called. It is customary when a man +has run away from his lodgings, broken out of jail, or made any other sudden movement, +to say ‘the <span class="sc">Bolt-in-tun</span> is concerned,’ or ‘he’s gone to the <span class="sc">Bolt-in-tun</span>’ instead of simply saying, ‘he has bolted,’ etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boltsprit</b>, <b>Boltspreet</b>, <b>Bowsprit</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—An old and humorous term for the nose. [The analogy is between the spar +or boom extending beyond the stem of a vessel and the nose as a prominent and projecting +feature of the face.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Conk</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1690. <span class="sc">Shadwell</span>, <i>Amorous Bigot</i>, Act v. As thou lovest thy ears, or nose, that <span class="sc">bolt-sprit</span> of thy face. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1691. <span class="sc">Shadwell</span>, <i>Scowerers</i>, Act v. They do not consider the tenderness of my <span class="sc">bolt-sprit</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Boltsprit</span> (s.), a cant name for the nose. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bolt the Moon</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i>—To remove one’s goods and chattels under cover of night with a view of evading the +payment of rent. A variant of <span class="sc">shoot the moon</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); the act itself is called a <span class="sc">moonlight flitting</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bolus</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—An apothecary; a doctor. [From <span class="sc">bolus</span>, a large pill frequently prescribed by physicians.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1878. <span class="sc">Hatton</span>, <i>Cruel London</i>, bk. VI., ch. ii. ‘The doctor, up from the Indian bar, came and said I was wanted +in London’ … ‘good for old <span class="sc">Bolus</span>,’ said Kernan; ‘and I believe him.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boman</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A gallant fellow. This is mentioned by Nares, who, however, could find no +example illustrating its use. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bombay Ducks</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. The Bombay regiments of the East India Company’s army were so called. +</p> +<p>2. A well known delicacy, the exact nature of which is explained by G. A. Sala in +the second quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <span class="sc">G. A. Sala</span>, in <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, 14 August, 5, 4. His <i>cuisine</i> was, with the occasional interpolation of a not entirely objectionable curry, accompanied +by <span class="sc">Bombay ducks</span>, exclusively old-fashioned English. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <span class="sc">G. A. Sala</span>, in <i>Ill. Lon. News</i>, 7 August, 138, 2. The <span class="sc">Bombay duck</span> is the Anglo-Indian relation of the Digby chick. Alive, it is a fish called the bummelo; +dead and dried, it becomes a <span class="sc">duck</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bombo</b>, <b>Bumbo</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A nickname given to various mixtures, but chiefly to cold punch. Smollett, +in a note in <i>Roderick Random</i>, speaks of it as ‘a liquor composed of rum, sugar, water, and nutmeg.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Roderick Random</i>, ch. xxxiv. A table well stored with <span class="sc">bumbo</span> and wine. +</p> +<p class="cit">1867. <span class="sc">Smyth</span>, <i>Sailors’ Word Book</i>. <span class="sc">Bombo</span>, weak cold punch. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>a.</i> 1886. <i>Northumb. Song</i>, in <i>N. and Q.</i>, 6 March, 195. The pitmen and the keelman … drink <span class="sc">bumbo</span> made of gin. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bona</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A girl; young woman; a belle. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 18(?). <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘Oh, Fred, don’t be so frivolous.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Girls are in vulgar called <span class="sc">donas</span>, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Some are called Miss and some Mrs., </p> +<p class="line">The best of them all are called <span class="sc">bonas</span>, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">The whole jolly lot’s fond of kisses. </p> +<p class="line">I kiss pretty lips, and I squeeze finger tips, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">No matter what I have to pay, </p> +<p class="line"><span class="pageNum" id="pb280">[<a href="#pb280">280</a>]</span> </p> +<p class="line">If I meet a dear maid who is somewhat afraid, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">She’ll blush like a virgin and say, ‘Oh my.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit right">Chorus. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i> (theatrical).—Good. [From the Latin.]—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Rumbo</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bonanza</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A happy hit; a stroke of fortune; success. [From the Spanish, a fair +wind, fine weather, prosperous voyage.] <span class="sc">Bonanza</span> was originally the name of a mine in Nevada, which once, quite unexpectedly, turned +out to be a big thing, and of enormous value; now applied to any lucky hit or successful +enterprise. +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <i>Scribner’s Mag.</i>, July, p. 272. But a <span class="sc">bonanza</span> with millions in it is not struck every week. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>San Francisco News Letter</i>, 4 Feb. The mines along the veins running north and south, of which North Belle Isle +is the center, are all stayers, and in the east and west ledge Grand Prize has entered +a body of ore which may develop into a <span class="sc">bonanza</span> as big as the one which paid millions in dividends in years gone by. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bona-Roba</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A courtesan; a showy prostitute. [From Italian <i lang="it">buona</i>, good, + <span class="sc">roba</span> = a robe or dress.] The term was much in use among the older dramatists. Ben Jonson +speaks of a bouncing <span class="sc">bona-roba</span>; and Cowley seems to have considered it as implying a fine, tall figure. <span class="sc">Bona</span> in modern times is frequently employed to signify a girl or young woman, without +reference to morals. +</p> +<p class="cit">1598. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>2 Henry IV.</i>, iii., 2. We knew where the <span class="sc">bona-robas</span> were; and had the best of them all at commandment. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>b.</i> 1618, <i>d.</i> 1667. <span class="sc">Cowley</span>, <i>Essay on Greatness</i> (quoted by Nares). I would neither wish that my mistress nor my fortune should be +a <span class="sc">bona-roba</span>;—but as Lucretius says, <i>Parvula, pumilio, tota merum sal</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Nigel</i>, xvi. Your lordship is for a frolic into Alsatia? … there are <span class="sc">bona-robas</span> to be found there. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Jack Sheppard</i> [1889], p. 69. The other <span class="sc">bona-roba</span>, known amongst her companions as Mistress Poll Maggot, was a beauty on a much larger +scale—in fact, a perfect Amazon. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bonce</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. The head; [probably a derivative of sense 2, from the analogy between +them.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Crumpet</span>. +</p> +<p>2. A large marble [origin unknown, but <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Alley</span>]. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bone</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—When a traveller, in passing his luggage through the Custom House, tips +the officer in the expectation that the latter’s examination of his <i>impedimenta</i> will be more or less superficial, the fee thus given is termed a <span class="sc">bone</span>. The practice, is, of course, contrary to all regulations; but, human nature being +human nature all the world over, it is believed that similar expedients for evading +the law are not altogether unknown in England. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i> (thieves’).—Good; excellent; ◇ is the vagabonds’ hieroglyphic for <span class="sc">bone</span>, or good, chalked by them on houses and street corners as a hint to succeeding beggars. +[Probably from French <i>bon</i>, good. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Boon</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. I., p. 232. He [beggar] mostly chalks a signal on or near the door. I give +one or two instances. ◇ ‘<span class="sc">Bone</span>,’ meaning good. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. G. A. <span class="corr" id="xd33e47756" title="Source: S [ala]"><span class="sc">S[ala]</span></span>, in <i>Ill. L. News</i>, Nov. 10, p. 451, col. 3. It is well known that the lozenge-shaped diagram chalked +by beggars and tramps on doors and <span class="pageNum" id="pb281">[<a href="#pb281">281</a>]</span>walls in ‘promising’ neighbourhoods stands for ‘<span class="sc">bone</span>,’ a corruption of the French ‘<i lang="fr">bon</i>,’ as a hint to succeeding vagabonds that they will find the happiest of hunting-grounds +in the locality. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (popular).—1. To filch; to steal; to make off with; to take into custody. [There +are two suggested derivations:—(1) that the figure of speech is drawn from the manner +in which a dog makes off with a bone; (2) that <span class="sc">bone</span> is a corruption of ‘bonnet’ (a gambling cheat who ‘sharks’ one’s money slyly).] For +synonyms in sense of to steal, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Prig</span>; in sense of to apprehend, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Nab</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Bone</span> (v.), a cant word to seize or arrest; also to cheat or strip a person of his money +or goods. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Memoirs</i>, II., 157. Tell us how you was <span class="sc">boned</span>, signifies tell us the story of your apprehension, a common request among fellow-prisoners +in a jail, which is readily complied with as a rule; and the various circumstances +therein related afford present amusement, and also useful hints for regulating their +future operations, so as to avoid the like misfortune. +</p> +<p class="cit">1838. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Nich. Nickleby</i>, ch. lvii., p. 467. ‘And why you were living so quiet here, and what you had <span class="sc">boned</span>, and who you had <span class="sc">boned</span> it from, wasn’t it?’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Trail of the Serpent</i>, bk. II., ch. ii. ‘I’m blest if he hasn’t been and <span class="sc">boned</span> my mug. I hope it’ll do him more good than it’s done me.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <i>Chambers’ Journal</i>, Dec. 9, <i>A Double Event</i>, p. 774. It would be a breach of confidence to tell you how it <i>was</i> arranged, but, after some haggling, it was arranged that, on the understanding that +I gave up the securities, I was to <span class="sc">bone</span> the reward which the detectives had missed. +</p> +<p>2. (American.)—To bribe; to ‘grease the palm.’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bone</span>, <i>subs.</i> +</p> +<p>3.(American cadets’.)—To study hard. [From <span class="sc">bohn</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To have a bone in the leg—arm—throat, etc.</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—A humorous reason for declining to use the member spoken of; a feigned +obstacle. +</p> +<p class="cit">1542. <span class="sc">Nicholas Udall</span>, <i>Erasmus’s Apophthegmes</i> (1877, Reprint of ed. 1562). p. 375. He refused to speake, allegeing that <span class="sc">he had a bone in his throte</span>, and he could not speake. +</p> +<p class="cit">1738. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Polite Conversation</i> (conv. iii.). <i>Nev.</i> Miss, come, be kind for once, and order me a dish of coffee. <i>Miss.</i> Pray go yourself; let us wear out the oldest first; besides, I can’t go, for I <span class="sc">have a bone in my leg</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bone-Ache</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The <i lang="la">lues venerea</i>. [The allusion is obvious.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Pierce Penilesse</i>. But <i lang="la">cucullus non facit monachum</i>—’tis not their newe bonnets will keepe them from the old <span class="sc">boan-ack</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1606. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Tro. and C.</i>, ii., 3. After this the vengeance on the whole camp! or rather the <span class="sc">bone-ache</span>! for that, methinks, is the curse dependent on those that war for a placket. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bone-Box</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The mouth. [The teeth are here represented as <i>the</i> ‘bones.’ The latter are now more commonly called ‘ivories.’] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Potato-trap</span>, and compare with <span class="sc">Bone-house</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. Shut your <span class="sc">bone-box</span>; shut your mouth. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bone-Crusher</b>, <i>subs.</i> (sporting).—A heavy bore rifle used for killing big game. [Literally that which crushes +or breaks bones by force. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bone-shaker</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">H. M. Stanley</span>, <i>How I Found Livingstone</i> (2 ed.), p. 63. African game require <span class="sc">bone-crushers</span>; for any ordinary carbine possesses sufficient penetrative qualities, yet has not +the disabling qualities which a gun must possess to be useful in the hands of an <span class="pageNum" id="pb282">[<a href="#pb282">282</a>]</span>African explorer. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 342. What is wanted for this country is a heavy bore—No. 10 or 12 is the real +<span class="sc">bone-crusher</span>, that will drop every animal shot. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boned.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bone</span>, <i>verb</i>, sense 1. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bone-Grubber</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—One who lives by collecting bones from heaps of refuse, selling his spoils +at the marine stores or to bone grinders. [From <span class="sc">bone</span> + <span class="sc">grub</span>, to seek by burrowing, + <span class="sc">er</span>.] Also called <span class="sc">bone-picker</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), and <span class="sc">tot-pickers</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). <i>See</i> first quotation and <i>cf.</i> <span class="sc">bone-picker</span> form. The French term is <i lang="fr">un biffin</i>, which also signifies a foot-soldier, his knapsack being compared to a rag or bone-picker’s +basket; also <i lang="fr">un chifferton</i> or <i lang="fr">un chiffortin</i>; <i lang="fr">un cupidon</i> (an ironical allusion to his hook and basket); <i lang="fr">un graffin</i>. For other synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Tot-picker</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1750. ‘The Hunter’s Wedding,’ quoted in J. Ashton’s <i>The Fleet</i>, 1888, p. 366. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Sam the <span class="sc">grubber</span>, he having had warning, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">His wallet and broom down did lay. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>Lon. Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. II., p. 155. The <span class="sc">bone-grubber</span> generally seeks out the narrow back streets, where dust and refuse are cast, or where +any dust-bins are accessible. The articles for which he chiefly searches are rags +and bones,—rags he prefers,—but waste metal, such as bits of lead, pewter, copper, +brass, or old iron, he prizes above all. +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>Crim. Prisons</i>, 40. A black-chinned and lanthorn-jawed <span class="sc">bone-grubber</span>. +</p> +<p>2. A resurrectionist; a violator of graves. Cobbett was therefore called ‘a <span class="sc">bone-grubber</span>,’ because he brought the remains of Tom Paine from America. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bone-house</span>. Latterly, from the quotation which follows, the term seems to have been extended +to all having to do with funerals. +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <span class="sc">G. A. Sala</span>, <i>Breakfast in Bed</i>, essay vii., p. 181 (1864). The crowd in Cheapside declared that I was a mute. They +called me <span class="sc">bone-grubber</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bone-House</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—1. The human body—an obvious allusion. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Emerson</span>, <i>Soc. and Sol.</i>, vi., 119. This wonderful <span class="sc">bone-house</span> which is called man. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>2. A coffin. The term is also used to signify a charnel-house, and Americans generally +call a cemetery a ‘bone-yard.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Pickwick Papers</i>, II., p. 207. Nothing soon—lie in bed—starve—die—Inquest—little <span class="sc">bone-house</span>—poor prisoner. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846. <span class="sc">Walbran</span>, <i>Guide Ripon</i>. The celebrated <span class="sc">bone-house</span> no longer exists. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">Forster</span>, <i>Life and Times of Oliver Goldsmith</i>, II., p. 165 (bk. IV., ch. viii.). The body [of a man who had poisoned himself] was +taken to the <span class="sc">bone-house</span> of St. Andrew’s, but no one came to claim it. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bone Muscle</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (American college).—To practice gymnastics. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bone</span>, <i>verb</i>, sense 3. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bone-Picker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. A footman. [Evidently a contemptuous allusion to sense 2, a footman’s +duties being to pick up and set in order after his employer.] The French term is <i lang="fr">un larbin</i>. +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A collector of bones, rags, and other refuse from the streets and places +where rubbish is placed, for the purpose of sale to marine dealers and bone crushers. +The same as <span class="sc">bone-grubber</span>, sense 1 (<i>q.v.</i>). +<span class="pageNum" id="pb283">[<a href="#pb283">283</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1866. <span class="sc">Ruskin</span>, <i>Crown of Wild Olives</i>, p. 25. The deceased was a <span class="sc">bone-picker</span>. he was in the lowest stage of poverty, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boner</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A sharp blow on the spine. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bones</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. Dice, which are also called <span class="sc">St. Hugh’s bones</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). [So called because made of bone or ivory.] ‘To rattle the <span class="sc">bones</span>,’ <i>i.e.</i>, ‘to play at dice.’ The term is a very old one, as also seem to be games played with +the little cubes in question. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1386. <span class="sc">Chaucer</span>, <i>Pard. T.</i>, 328. This fruyt cometh of the bicched <span class="sc">bones</span> two, fforsweryng, Ire, falsnesse, Homycide. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>a.</i> 1529. <span class="sc">Skelton</span>, wks. (ed. Dyce) I., 52. On the borde he whyrled a payre of <span class="sc">bones</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1608. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Belman of London</i>, in wks. (Grosart) III., 123. Who being left by his parents rich in money and possessions, +hath to the musicke of square ratling <span class="sc">bones</span> danced so long, that hee hath danced himselfe into the company of beggers. +</p> +<p class="cit">1698. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>Persius</i>, III., 96. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">But then my study was to cog the dice, </p> +<p class="line">And dexterously to throw the lucky sice: </p> +<p class="line">To shun ames-ace, that swept my stakes away; </p> +<p class="line">And watch the box, for fear they should convey </p> +<p class="line">False <span class="sc">bones</span>, and put upon me in the play. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1772. <span class="sc">Foote</span>, <i>Nabob</i>, Act ii. When your chance is low, as tray, ace, or two deuces, the best method is +to dribble out the <span class="sc">bones</span> from the box. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Pendennis</i>, ch. xviii. ‘I saw you sit down to <i lang="fr">écarté</i> last week at Trumpington’s, and taking your turn with the <span class="sc">bones</span> after Ringwood’s supper.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>Good for Nothing</i>, ch. xxviii. ‘What with speculations failing, and consols dropping all at once, not +to mention a continual run of ill-luck with the <span class="sc">bones</span>, I saw no way out of it but to bolt.’ +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—Pieces of <span class="sc">bones</span> held between the fingers and played Spanish castanet fashion. Generally used as an +accompaniment to banjo and other ‘negro’ minstrel music. +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Midsummer Night’s Dream</i>, iv., 1, line 27. <i>Tita.</i> What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love? <i>Bot.</i> I have a reasonable good ear in music: let us have the tongs and the <span class="sc">bones</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, III., p. 195. Peter rolling about in his chair like a serenader playing the <span class="sc">bones</span>, and the young Othello laughing as if he was being tickled. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 201. The <span class="sc">bones</span>, we’ve real <span class="sc">bones</span>, rib-of-beef <span class="sc">bones</span>, but some have ebony <span class="sc">bones</span>, which sound better than rib-<span class="sc">bones</span>—they tell best, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <i>Times</i>, 17 July. Amateur negro melodists … thumped the banjo and rattled the <span class="sc">bones</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>3. (common.)—A member of a ‘negro’ minstrel troupe; generally applied to one of the +‘end’ men who plays the <span class="sc">bones</span> (sense 2). +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, III. First of all we formed a school of three—two banjos and a tambourine, and after +that we added a <span class="sc">bones</span> and a fiddle. +</p> +<p class="cit">1867. <span class="sc">Rhoda Broughton</span>, <i>Cometh up as a Flower</i>, p. 236. The band clashes out; big fiddle and little fiddle, harp and <span class="sc">bones</span>, off they go. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Sat. Review</i>, June 7,740, col. 1. A single row of negro minstrels seated on chairs … while at +the end are <span class="sc">Bones</span> and Sambo. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>4. (general.)—The bones of the human body, but more generally applied to the teeth. +French thieves call these <i lang="fr">les piloches</i> (<i>f</i>); and <i lang="fr">les osselots</i> (<i>m</i>). <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bone-box</span> and <span class="sc">Bone-house</span>, and for synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Grinders</span>. +</p> +<p>5. (common.)—A surgeon; generally <span class="sc">sawbones</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). A list of curious nicknames for the medical profession will also be found under +<span class="sc">Squirt</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Chamb. Journal</i>, Jan. 8, p. 30. ‘I have sent for the village <span class="sc">bones</span>, and <span class="pageNum" id="pb284">[<a href="#pb284">284</a>]</span>if he can but patch me up, it may not yet be too late.<span>’</span> +</p> +<p>6. (Stock Exchange.)—(1) The shares of Wickens, Pease and Co.; (2) North British 4% +1st Preference Shares, the 4% 2nd Preference Stock being nicknamed <span class="sc">Bonettas</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">As dry</span> or <span class="sc">hard as a bone</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common), <i>i.e.</i>, as free from moisture as a bone after it has been picked and cleaned, as by a dog. +</p> +<p class="cit">1833. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Peter Simple</i>, i. It’s <span class="sc">as dry as a bone</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">R. Nicoll</span>, <i>Poems</i> (1843), 83. Dubs were <span class="sc">hard as ony bane</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">One end is pretty sure to be bone</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—An old time saying equivalent to an admission that ‘all is not gold that +glitters’; that the realization of one’s hopes never comes up to the ideal formed +of them. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>The World</i>, 13 May. People here (in the west) have to get up and get in order to make both ends +meet, and even then <span class="sc">one end is pretty sure to be bone</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To be upon the bones</span>, <i>phr.</i> (vulgar).—To attack. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>b.</i> 1616, <i>d.</i> 1704. <span class="sc">Sir R. L’Estrange</span> (in Annandale). Puss had a month’s mind <span class="sc">to be upon the bones of</span> him, but was not willing to pick a quarrel. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To feel a thing in one’s bones.</span>—A simile signifying assurance; conviction. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Scribner’s Magazine.</i> I ain’t a-goin’ to mention no names but I kin <span class="sc">feel it in my bones</span> that things ain’t on the square here, there’s a nigger in the fence. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Missouri Republican</i>, 22 Feb. Nat. M. Shelton, of Lancaster, said: ‘I am in the race of attorney-general, +and I <span class="sc">feel it in my bones</span> that I will get the nomination.<span>’</span> +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To make no bones</span>, <i>phr.</i> (familiar).—To make no scruple; to show no hesitation; to commence and finish a work +without difficulty—now restricted to colloquial use; it was formerly current literary +coin, and is frequently to be met with in our older literature. Its earlier form was, +‘to find bones in,’ which clearly shows the phrase to have originated in a reference +to bones in soup, or similar food, regarded as obstacles to swallowing. In this sense +it is found as early as the middle of the fifteenth century, in the <i>Paston Letters</i>. It does not occur in its present shape <span class="sc">to make bones</span> until a century later; but, from this period on to the end of the seventeenth century +it was in constant use. +</p> +<p class="cit">1459. <i>Paston Lett.</i>, 331, I., 444. And <span class="sc">fond</span> that tyme <span class="sc">no bonys</span> in the matere. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1542. <span class="sc">Udall</span>, <i>Apoph. of Erasmus</i>, p. 133 (1877). Yea, and rather then faill, both whole mainor places, and also whole +Lordships, the ‘<span class="sc">make no bones</span>, ne sticke not, quite and cleue to swallow doune the narrow lane, and the same to +spue up again.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1565. <span class="sc">Shacklock</span>, <i>Hatchet of Heresies</i>. And instede of that whiche he saide, This is my body, they haue <span class="sc">made no bones at it</span>, to say, this is my brede. +</p> +<p class="cit">1590. <span class="sc">Greene</span>, <i>Francesco’s Fortune</i>, in wks. VIII., 189. Tricke thy selfe vp in thy best reparrell, and <span class="sc">make no bones</span> at it but on a woing [wooing]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1596. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Saffron Walden</i>, in wks. III., 112. He … would <span class="sc">make no bones</span> to take the wall of <i>Sir Philip Sidney</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1677. <span class="sc">Wycherley</span>, <i>Plain Dealer</i>, Act iii. <i>Man.</i> How could I refrain? A lawyer talked peremptorily and saucily to me, and as good +as gave me the lie. <i>Free.</i> They do it so often to one another at the bar, that they <span class="sc">make no bones</span> on’t elsewhere. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Pendennis</i>, ch. lxiv. Do you think that the Government or the Opposition would <span class="sc">make any bones</span> about accepting the seat if it be offered to them? +<span class="pageNum" id="pb285">[<a href="#pb285">285</a>]</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">To pick a bone</span> or <span class="sc">bones with one</span>, <i>phr.</i> (colloquial).—To have an unpleasant matter to settle with one; also, a difficulty +to solve; ‘a nut to crack.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1565. <span class="sc">Colfhill</span>, <i>Answ. Treat. Cron.</i> (1846), 277. A <span class="sc">bone</span> for you <span class="sc">to pick on</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1783. <span class="sc">Ainsworth</span>, <i>Lat. Dict.</i> (Morell), 1, s.v. <i>Pick</i>, <span class="sc">To give one a bone to pick</span>, <i lang="la">scrupulum alicui injicere</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1850–68. <span class="sc">H. Rogers</span>, <i>Ess.</i>, II., ii. (1874), 103. Many a <span class="sc">bone</span> in these lectures which a keen metaphysician would be disposed <span class="sc">to pick with</span> the author. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bonesetter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A hard riding horse; a ricketty conveyance; properly one whose occupation +is to set broken and dislocated bones. The sarcastic, punning reference is of course +to the dire effects which naturally follow the use of an animal of such a description. +The odd way in which slang is often derived, strikes one at times as very curious. +Not only are words frequently coined which resemble genuine words, such as ‘solemncholy’ +for ‘melancholy,’ and ‘it don’t much magnify’ for ‘it don’t much signify,’ but the +meaning of such factitious words is, in many cases, either subtly reversed or endowed +with an extremely cynical tinge of humour and sarcasm. The present instance is a case +in point. A more modern term is <span class="sc">boneshaker</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), which is less subtle in its meaning, <span class="sc">bone-setter</span> being certainly far more brutally cynical in its suggestiveness. <i>See</i> second quotation for some curious synonyms formerly in use. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bone Setter</span>, a hard trotting horse. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act i., Sc. 7. <i>Jerry.</i> I long to be there,—let’s hasten to dress at once. <i>Log.</i> Aye; call a rattler. <i>Jerry.</i> A rattler! I’m at fault again. <i>Log.</i> A rattler is a rumbler, otherwise a jarvy! better known perhaps by the name of a +hack; handy enough in a wet day, or a hurry. <i>Jerry.</i> A hack! If it’s the thing we rattled over the stones in to-day, It might more properly +be called a <span class="sc">bone-setter</span>. <i>Tom.</i> Or bone-breaker.—But if you dislike going in a hack, we’ll get you a mab. <i>Jerry.</i> A mab! I’m at fault again—never shall get properly broken in. <i>Tom.</i> A mab is a jingling jarvy!—a cabriolet, Jerry.—But we must mind our flash doesn’t +peep out at Almack’s. ’Tis classic ground there. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bone-Shake</b>, <i>verb</i> (popular).—To ride a <span class="sc">bone-shaker</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), <i>i.e.</i>, a heavy bicycle of a very old type. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Answers</i>, Feb. 23, p. 195, col. 1. Among those who learnt to <span class="sc">boneshake</span> was Charles Dickens, who, had he lived, would have been a devoted cyclist. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bone-Shaker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A hard trotting horse.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bone-setter</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (popular.)—An old type of bicycle in use prior to the introduction of india-rubber +tires and other manifold improvements. The first bicycle propelled by cranks and pedals +was ridden in Paris in 1864. It created enormous excitement. On being introduced into +England people went bicycle mad, and the number of persons who suffered in consequence +of riding the old <span class="sc">bone-shakers</span> was considerable. Among those who learnt to ‘bone-shake’ was Charles Dickens, who, +had he lived, would have been a devoted cyclist, for he regarded the sport as a grand +one, and prophesied a big future for it. In 1868 Mr. Charles Spencer rode to Brighton +on a <span class="sc">bone-shaker</span> in 14 hours from London. The papers were full <span class="pageNum" id="pb286">[<a href="#pb286">286</a>]</span>of what was then considered an extraordinary feat, but on Aug. 10, 1889, four riders +of the Polytechnic Cycling Club covered the distance to Brighton and back, 108 miles, +in 7 hours 50 minutes, which is better time than a most perfectly-appointed modern +four-in-hand can be driven over the same course by the aid of unlimited relays of +horses kept in readiness to be changed at a moment’s notice. Only <i>one</i> machine was used throughout the trial, viz., a safety roadster, weighing 36 lbs. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">A. Howard</span>, <i>Bicycle</i>, 10. In 1870 and 1871, the low, long <span class="sc">bone-shaker</span> began to fall in public esteem. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">G. L. Hillier</span>, in <i>Longman’s Mag.</i>, March, p. 487. The <span class="sc">bone-shaker</span>, as the ribald cyclist of the present day designates the ancestor of his present +bicycle. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Nineteenth Century</i>, Jan., p. 92. In the <i>Field’s</i> report of the performance of the Cambridge Town Bicycle Club we find this entry: +‘Half Mile Race on <span class="sc">bone-shakers</span>, not exceeding 36 in.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bone Standing</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (American college).—To study hard. [Evidently an allusion to the alertness implied +by a standing position.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bonettas</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Stock Exchange.)—The 4% 2nd North British 2nd Preference Stock.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bones</span>, <i>subs.</i>, sense 6, § 2. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bong.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Boung</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boniface</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—The landlord of a tavern or inn. [Derived from Farquhar’s play.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1707. <span class="sc">Farquhar</span>, <i>Beaux Stratagem</i>. [<span class="sc">Boniface</span> is here given as the name of landlord of the inn.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1803. <span class="sc">Bristed</span>, <i>Pedest. Tour</i>, I., 120. To give the characteristic features and to stamp the peculiar traits of +honest <span class="sc">Boniface</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>General Bounce</i>, ch. xvi. The landlord either could not, or would not, give them any actual information +as to his guests.… So the blue-coated myrmidons of Scotland Yard got but little information +from <span class="sc">Boniface</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boning Adjutant</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (American cadets’).—Aping a military bearing. [From <span class="sc">bone</span>, to study, to imitate.] So also <span class="sc">boning muscle</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) is going in largely for gymnastics. To <span class="sc">bone standing</span>, to study hard. <span class="sc">Boning demerit</span>, giving no cause for complaint as regards one’s conduct. All West Point cadet slang. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bonk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (travelling showmens’).—A short, steep hill. [Possibly only a provincialism, or an +obsolete form of ‘bank.’] +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Hindley</span>, <i>Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 302. In Lancashire, Yorkshire, Derbyshire, and Staffordshire, the approaches +to some of the large works are either up or down some steep, short hill, usually termed +<span class="sc">bonk</span>, and the drivers of heavily laden carts with two horses have the breeching on the +leading chain-horse, as well as the horse in the shafts, so that when they are going +down one of these steep <span class="sc">bonks</span>, the horse is as useful as a help in drawing up. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bonnet</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A gambling cheat; a decoy at auctions. [So-called because they <span class="sc">bonnet</span> or blind the eyes of the victims.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bonnet</span>, <i>verb</i>, sense 1.] Hotten says sometimes called a <span class="sc">bearer-up</span>. The <span class="sc">bonnet</span> plays as though he were a member of the general public, and by his good luck, or +by the force of his example, induces others to venture their stakes. <span class="sc">Bonneting</span> is often done in much better society than that <span class="pageNum" id="pb287">[<a href="#pb287">287</a>]</span>to be found in the ordinary gaming-rooms. A man who persuades another to buy an article +on which he receives commission or percentage, is said to <span class="sc">bonnet</span> or bear-up for the seller. Also called a <span class="sc">bonneter</span>. The French has <i lang="fr">bonneteur</i> for one profuse in compliments and bows. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dictionary</i>. <span class="sc">Bonnet</span>, a concealment. +</p> +<p class="cit">1841. <i>Comic Almanack</i>, October. Or a man at a hell, Playing the part of a <span class="sc">bonnetter</span> well. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>Digby Grand</i>, ch. xxi. I began to think my military friend was ‘a <span class="sc">bonnet</span>,’—one of those harpies employed by gambling-house keepers to enhance temptation by +the influence of example, and generally selected for their respectable and innocent +appearance. +</p> +<p>(?) 1868. <i>Times</i> (quoted by <span class="sc">Brewer</span>, <i>Phrase and Fable</i>, p. 104). A man who sits at a gaming-table, and appears to be playing against the +table; when a stranger appears, the <span class="sc">bonnet</span> generally wins. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 217. We bid or praised up his goods: in fact, often acted as ‘puffers’ or <span class="sc">bonnets</span>, to give him a leg up. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Morning Post</i>, Sept. 5, p. 7, col. 3. There was no distinct evidence to connect him with a conspiracy +to defraud.… He might have been used as a sort of <span class="sc">bonnet</span> to conceal the utter worthlessness of propositions made by the others. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—A <span class="corr" id="xd33e48997" title="Source: pretex">pretext</span>; pretence; or ‘make believe.’ +</p> +<p>3. A woman. [This sense is analogous to ‘petticoat,’ the names of articles of feminine +attire being transferred to the wearer.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Punch’s Almanac</i>, p. 3. Then comes Easter, Got some coin in hand, Trot a <span class="sc">bonnet</span> out and do the grand. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (common).—1. To act as a <span class="sc">bonnet</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); to cheat; to puff; to ‘<span class="sc">bear up</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. ‘Hawk’s-Eye,’ <i>Budget of Turf Notes</i>, p. 2. I could point out now what horses he is <span class="sc">bonneting</span> for the 2,000 Guineas and Derby of this year, and the horses whose pretensions he +is trying to discredit. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Referee</i>, 15 May, p. 1, col. 3. Nobody can suppose that I am anxious to <span class="sc">bonnet</span> for the <i>Times</i> newspaper. +</p> +<p>2. (popular.)—To crush a man’s hat down over his eyes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Sketches by Boz</i>, p. 229. Two young men, who, now and then, varied their amusements by <span class="sc">bonneting</span> the proprietor of this itinerant coffee-house. +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Pickwick</i>, II., p. 216. You are a dutiful and affectionate little boy to come a <span class="sc">bonnetin’</span> your father in his old age. +</p> +<p class="cit">1843. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Christmas Carol in Prose</i>, p. 22. Scrooge reverently disclaimed … any knowledge of having wilfully <span class="sc">bonneted</span> the Spirit at any period of his life. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Saturday Review</i>, LIV., p. 629. The students hustled and ‘<span class="sc">bonnetted</span>’ a new professor. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To have a green bonnet</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To fail in business. [From the green cloth cap formerly worn by bankrupts.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bonnet-Builder</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A milliner. [The derivation is clear.]—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Build</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. Song in <i>The Little Melodist</i>, quoted in J. Ashton’s <i>The Fleet</i>, p. 93. Will you go to Bagnigge Wells, <span class="sc">Bonnet builder</span>, O! +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Brewer</span>, <i>Phrase and Fable</i>, s.v. ‘Build.’ A milliner is jestingly called a ‘<span class="sc">bonnet-builder</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bonneter.</b>—1. <i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bonnet</span>, <i>subs.</i>, sense 1. +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A crushing blow on the hat.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bonnet</span>, <i>verb</i>, sense 2. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bonnets So Blue</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming slang).—Irish stew.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Rhyming slang</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb288">[<a href="#pb288">288</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bono</b>, <i>adj.</i> (circus and thieves’).—Good. [From the Latin.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Booby Hutch</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A police station; so called no doubt from the light in which the criminal +classes regard those who are foolish enough or unfortunate enough to get ‘landed’ +in such places. [<span class="sc">Booby</span> = a fool + <span class="sc">hutch</span>, a box or confined space.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Booby-Trap</b>, <i>subs.</i> (schoolboys’).—An arrangement of books, wet sponges, vessels of water, etc., so arranged +on the top of a door set ajar that when the intended victim enters the room, the whole +falls upon him. +</p> +<p class="cit">1850. <span class="sc">Smedley</span>, <i>Frank Fairlegh</i>, ch. iii., p. 28. He had devoted it to the construction of what he called a ‘<span class="sc">booby-trap</span>,’ which ingenious piece of mechanism was arranged in the following manner: The victim’s +room-door was placed ajar, and upon the top thereof a Greek Lexicon, or any other +equally ponderous volume, was carefully balanced, and upon this was set in its turn +a jug of water. If all these were properly adjusted, the catastrophe above described +was certain to ensue when the door was opened. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">F. Anstey</span>, <i>Vice Versâ</i>, ch. xiv. ‘I made a first-rate <span class="sc">booby-trap</span>, though, one day for an old yellow buffer who came in to see you.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Sat. Review</i>, Nov. 3, p. 566, col. 2. On his way down to dinner he is suddenly drenched from head +to foot by a <span class="sc">booby-trap</span>—a sponge soaked in water placed above a half-open door. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boodle</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—1. A crowd; a company; the ‘<span class="sc">whole boiling</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>). With this meaning the form often appears as <span class="sc">caboodle</span> (<i>q.v<span>.</span></i>). [As regards derivation, which is obscure, Murray, speaking of both senses as here +treated, says the U.S. <span class="sc">boodle</span>, in sense 1, must be the same as Markham’s ‘buddle’ (<i>see</i> quotation given below from <i>New English Dictionary</i>); sense 2 (also only in U.S.) may be a different word. <span class="sc">Boodle</span> suggests a Dutch origin from <i lang="nl">boedel</i> pronounced <span class="sc">boodle</span>, and in its primary sense means ‘household stuff,’ and refers to property left by +a testator. It is curious to note that <span class="sc">bodle</span> was a Scotch coin of the value of one-sixth of a penny.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1625. <span class="sc">F. Markham</span>, <i>Bk. Honour</i>, IV., ii. Men curiously and carefully chosen out (from all the <span class="sc">buddle</span> and masse of great ones) for their approoued wisedome. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">O. W. Holmes</span>, <i>Autocrat</i>, p. 139. He would like to have the whole <span class="sc">boodle</span> of them (I remonstrated against this word, but the professor said it was a diabolish +good word …) with their wives and children shipwrecked on a remote island. +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <span class="sc">Bacon</span>, <i>Handbook of America</i>, p. 361. <span class="sc">Boodle</span>, ‘the whole <span class="sc">boodle</span> of them,’ <i>i.e.</i>, all, the whole. [List of Americanisms.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">E. E. Hale</span>, <i>Xmas. in Narragansett</i>, ch. ix., p. 272. At eleven o’clock the ‘whole <span class="sc">boodle</span> of them,’ as Uncle Nahum called the caravan … had to boot and spur for church. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>2. (American.)—In its second signification this curious word seems to have come into +prominent use in politics during the past five years. Its meaning and usage is thus +explained in <i>Americanisms—Old and New</i>. Some elections cannot be conducted without <span class="sc">boodle</span> first and last. <span class="sc">Boodle</span> does not mean the capital or stock-in-trade, except the business or trade be something +secret, peculiar and illegal. <span class="sc">Boodle</span> always means money; but money has not always been <span class="sc">boodle</span> (<i>see</i> sense 4). Money honestly received and spent, money that circulates in regular and +honest channels, that appears in cash-book and <span class="pageNum" id="pb289">[<a href="#pb289">289</a>]</span>ledger and expense account, is never <span class="sc">boodle</span>; but when a sum—a thousand dollars, more or less—is given to some one to use in influencing +a third party, given perhaps in silence and certainly without requiring any writing +of acknowledgment or obligation—that is <span class="sc">boodle</span>. <span class="sc">Boodle</span> is money used for purposes of bribery and corruption; and the same word is employed +to indicate the money that comes as spoils, the result of some secret deal, the profits +of which are silently divided. The term is likewise used to cover the ill-gotten gains +of the bank robber, or the absconding cashier. ‘He carried away so much <span class="sc">boodle</span>.’ In elections the primaries have to be ‘fixed,’ a great many men have to be ‘seen’; +in short, the amount of money that it seems necessary in some cases to use to elect +a few honest public servants is a thing to wonder at. And when these men are elected, +it appears that they often lose the power of distinguishing between ‘straight money’ +and <span class="sc">boodle</span>. The word seems destined to take its permanent place in the language.—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Boodlers</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Boston</i> (Mass.) <i>Globe</i>, Oct. 7. ‘Sinews of war,’ and ‘living issues,’ ‘soap,’ and other synonyms for campaign +<span class="sc">boodle</span> are familiar. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Philadelphia Bulletin</i>, 24 Feb. The best man in the world cannot make an honest living by being a City Councilman. +The office is an unsalaried one, and any money that is made out of it is <span class="sc">boodle</span>. This is the new term for plunder, fraud and every form of stealing that can be practised +by office-holders, who, in the practice, add the crime of perjury. It is an easy business +for men of easy virtue. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Puck’s Library</i>, May, p. 3. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">In the evening, up the street, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">As you see him passing by, </p> +<p class="line">You’re convinced his mind’s replete </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">With the legal science high; </p> +<p class="line">That he ponders of divorce, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Or, of <span class="sc">boodle</span> cases great; </p> +<p class="line">That he spends all day, of course, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Fighting counsel for the State. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">3. (American thieves’.)—Amongst the thieving fraternity <span class="sc">boodle</span> is used to denote money that is actually spurious or counterfeit, and not merely +money used for nefarious purposes, but which as currency is genuine enough. +</p> +<p>4. (American general.)—Money. This is the latest sense imported into the word. The +transition by which it has come to be synonymous with ‘dust,’ ‘pieces,’ ‘rhino,’ ‘oof,’ +etc., is an easy one.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Actual</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Puck’s Library</i>, Jan., p. 4. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Shakey, take a fader’s plessing, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Take it, for you ket it sheap; </p> +<p class="line">Go in hot for making money, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Go in for to make a heap. </p> +<p class="line">Don’ you do no dings vot’s grooked, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Don’ you do no dings vot’s mean— </p> +<p class="line">Aber rake right in dot <span class="sc">boodle</span>, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Qviet, calm, and all serene. </p> +</div> +<p class="first"><span class="sc">To carry boodle</span> is to utter base coinage.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Boodler</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Fake-boodle</span>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—A roll of paper over which, after folding, a dollar bill is +pasted, and another bill being loosely wrapped round this it looks as if the whole +roll is made up of a large sum of money in bills. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boodler</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American political).—1. One who bribes or corrupts.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Boodle</span>, sense 2. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Omaha World.</i> <i>American.</i> ‘As you are a native of Canada I suppose you think that country is all right, but +for my part I should hate most awfully to be a subject of a queen.’ <i>Canadian.</i> ‘The queen is a mere figure-head; there is no difference at all between Canada and +the United States.’ ‘Come to think, I believe you do have elections there.’ <span class="pageNum" id="pb290">[<a href="#pb290">290</a>]</span>‘I should say we did. We have elections and campaigns, and political parties, and +bosses, and ringsters, and <span class="sc">boodlers</span>, and——.’ ‘<span class="sc">Boodlers?</span>’ ‘Plenty of ’em.’ ‘Well, well! Why, you are freemen just like us.’ +</p> +<p>2. (American thieves’.)—<span class="sc">Boodlers</span> and shovers are the men who issue false money (<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Boodle</span>, sense 3). Swindlers of this type generally hunt in couples; one carrying the bulk +of the counterfeit money, and receiving the good change as obtained by his companion, +who utters the <span class="sc">boodle</span> piece by piece. The game is generally worked so that at the slightest alarm the <span class="sc">boodle carrier</span> vanishes and leaves nothing to criminate his confederate. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Booget</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—A travelling tinker’s basket. Quoted by Harman [1567]. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Book</b>, <i>subs.</i> (sporting).—1. In betting, more especially in connection with horse racing, an arrangement +of bets made against certain horses, and so calculated that the <span class="sc">bookmaker</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) has a strong chance of winning something whatever the result. +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Pickwick</i>, I., p. 400. And Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, entered it (the bet) in a little <span class="sc">book</span> with a gold pencil-case; and the other gentleman entered it also, in another little +<span class="sc">book</span> with another gold pencil-case. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Disraeli</span>, <i>Henrietta Temple</i>, p. 260. Am I to be branded because I have made half a million by a good <span class="sc">book?</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">F. E. Smedley</span>, <i>Lewis Arundel</i>, ch. liii. ‘He has backed the Dodona colt for the Derby, and has got a heavier <span class="sc">book</span> on the race than he likes.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <i>Gent. Mag.</i>, July, p. 231. He wins your money with a smile, will accommodate his <span class="sc">book</span> to suit what bets you may choose to make. +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">Jas. Payn</span>, <i>High Spirits</i> (<i>Change of Views</i>). He had a knowledge, too, of practical mathematics, which enabled him to make a +<span class="sc">book</span> upon every great racing event of the year. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>, Oct. 21, p. 6, col. 1. Every sporting man is flattered if termed a sportsman, but +it would be almost an insult to speak to a sportsman as a sporting man. Wherein does +the distinction lie? it may be asked. The one is a lover of sport for the sake of +the thing itself. The other is a lover of it for what he can get out of the business. +The former may bet, but he does not look at sport through the glasses of a <span class="sc">book</span>; the latter always bets, and in fact would not care about it at all if he could not +take or give odds. +</p> +<p>2. (card-players’.)—The first six tricks at whist. +</p> +<p>3. (general.)—The copy of words to which music is set; the words of a play; formerly +only applied to the libretto of an opera. +</p> +<p class="cit">1768. <span class="sc">Sterne</span>, <i>Sentimental Journey</i>, I., 180. A small pamphlet, it might be the <span class="sc">book</span> of the opera. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Answers</i>, 8 June, p. 24. The prompter had a little table on the ‘prompt’ side; that is, the +right-hand side looking from the house, and his ‘<span class="sc">book</span>’ was one mass of directions, the margins being covered with little pictures and diagrams +of the stage, showing the positions of the leading actors in every scene. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To know one’s book</span>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—To have made up one’s mind; to know what is best for one’s interest. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1879. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘Ain’t you glad you didn’t.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Ain’t you glad sometimes to know, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">A second thought you took, </p> +<p class="line">About a subject upon which </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">You thought you <span class="sc">knew your book</span>; </p> +<p class="line">Now first of all you think you will, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And then you think you won’t, </p> +<p class="line">While someone says ‘Go in and win!’ </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And someone else says ‘Don’t.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first"><span class="sc">To suit one’s book</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To suit one’s arrangements. <i>Cf.</i>, Book, <i>subs.</i>, sense 1, the allusion being to betting books, in which bets are formally entered. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb291">[<a href="#pb291">291</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">F. E. Smedley</span>, <i>Lewis Arundel</i>, ch. vi. ‘By which time he expects to be so hard up that he must marry somebody, +and as there will be plenty of the needful, she will <span class="sc">suit his book</span> as well as any other.<span>’</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Booked</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (common).—Caught; fixed; disposed of; destined, etc. From the book-keeping term—entered +in a book, or registered. +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Hood</span>, <i>Up the Rhine</i>, p. 6. I am <span class="sc">booked</span> for a much longer journey. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Snowden</span>, <i>Mag. Assistant</i>, 3 ed., p. 446. <span class="sc">Booked</span>, caught, taken, or disposed of. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <span class="sc">Jas. Payn</span>, <i>Grape from a Thorn</i>, ch. xxiii. ‘I don’t remember anyone having given <i>me</i> an “engaged ring” before; and it’s not leap year, neither. However, the lady’s <span class="sc">booked</span>, which is a great relief.’ +</p> +<p>French thieves use <i lang="fr">être planché</i> for ‘to be booked’; also <i lang="fr">être mort</i> (<i>i.e.</i>, ‘to be dead’); the adjective is rendered by <i lang="fr">faitré</i>, and the person <span class="sc">booked</span> is <i lang="fr">un gerbable</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Book-Form</b>, <i>subs.</i> (sporting).—The relative powers of speed or endurance of race-horses as set down +in the <i>Racing Calendar</i> or ‘book.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bookie</b> or <b>Booky</b>, <i>subs.</i> (sporting).—An abbreviated form of <span class="sc">bookmaker</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Eng. Ill. Mag.</i>, April, p. 509. No rowdy ring, but a few quiet and well-known <span class="sc">bookies</span>, who were ready enough to lay the odds to a modest fiver. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Sporting Times</i>, 29 June. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">He now had occasion to speedily hie </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">To the <span class="sc">bookie</span> who laid him the bet, </p> +<p class="line">Who was one of the small and particular fry, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">That at times, <i>when convenient</i>, forget. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bookmaker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (sporting).—The <i>English Encyclopædia</i> says:—In betting there are two parties—one called ‘layers,’ as the <span class="sc">bookmakers</span> are termed, and the other ‘backers,’ in which class may be included owners of horses +as well as the public. The backer takes the odds which the <span class="sc">bookmaker</span> lays against a horse, the former speculating upon the success of the animal, the +latter upon its defeat; and taking the case of Cremorne for the Derby of 1872, just +before the race, the <span class="sc">bookmaker</span> would have laid 3 to 1, or perhaps £1000 to £300 against him, by which transaction, +if the horse won, as he did, the backer would win £1000 for risking £300, and the +<span class="sc">bookmaker</span> lose the £1000 which he risked to win the smaller sum. At first sight this may appear +an act of very questionable policy on the part of the <span class="sc">bookmaker</span>; but really it is not so, because so far from running a greater risk than the backer, +he runs less, inasmuch as it is his plan to lay the same amount (£1000) against every +horse in the race, and as there can be but one winner, he would in all probability +receive more than enough money from the many losers to pay the stated sum of £1000 +which the chances are he has laid against the one winner, whichever it is.—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Book</span>, <i>subs.</i>, sense 1, and <span class="sc">Bookie</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <i>London Review</i>, Aug. 30, p. 188. Betting there seemed to be none … we could not perceive a single +book or <span class="sc">bookmaker</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">W. Day</span>, <i>Racehorse in Training</i>, ch. xxiv., p. 245. <span class="sc">Bookmakers</span> pursue a legitimate and lucrative trade by laying against all horses as they appear +in the market. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Hawley Smart</span>, <i>Hard Lines</i>, ch. iii. Finding … that the <span class="sc">bookmaker</span> whom for once they have landed for ‘a thousand to thirty’ is hopelessly insolvent. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb292">[<a href="#pb292">292</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bookmaker’s Pocket</b>, <i>subs.</i> (sporting).—A breast-pocket made inside the waistcoat, for notes of large amount.—<i>Hotten.</i>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bookmaker</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Books</b>, <i>subs.</i> (card-players’).—1. A pack of cards. A term used mainly by professional card-players. +Also called <span class="sc">devil’s books</span>; <span class="sc">book of broads</span>; <span class="sc">book of briefs</span>. The French equivalent is <i lang="fr">un juge de paix</i>; while <i lang="fr">une cartouchière à portées</i> is a prepared pack used by sharpers. +</p> +<p class="cit">1706. <span class="sc">Mrs. Centlivre</span>, <i>Basset Table</i>, IV., ii., wks. (1872) I., 245. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>L. Revel.</i> Clean cards here. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>Mrs. Sago.</i> Burn this <span class="sc">book</span>, ’t has an unlucky air [tears them]. Bring some more <span class="sc">books</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (Winchester College.)—(<i>a.</i>) The prizes formerly presented by Lord Say and Sele, now given by the governing body, +to the ‘Senior’ in each division at the end of ‘Half.’ +</p> +<p>(<i>b.</i>) The school is thus divided:—<span class="sc">Sixth Book</span>—Senior and Junior Division; the whole of the rest of the School is in <span class="sc">Fifth Book</span>—Senior Part, Middle Part, Junior Part, each part being divided into so many divisions, +Senior, Middle and Junior, or Senior, 2nd, 3rd and Junior, as the case may require. +Formerly there was also ‘<span class="sc">Fourth Book</span>,’ but it ceased to exist about twenty-five years ago. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>, p. 104. The school was divided into three classes, or <span class="sc">books</span>, as they were called. Of these, the Præfects formed one, <span class="sc">Sixth Book</span>; <span class="sc">Fifth Book</span> was sub-divided into three parts, called respectively, ‘Senior, Middle, and Junior +part of the Fifth’; in speaking of them, the words, ‘of the Fifth’ were generally +omitted. The rest of the boys made up ‘Fourth Book.’ +</p> +<p>(<i>c.</i>) <span class="sc">Up at books.</span>—In class; repeating lessons; now called <span class="sc">Up to books</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>, p. 101. At each end of school are three tiers of benches rising gradually one above +the other,—that on the ground being called ‘Senior Row,’ and the others ‘Middle,’ +and ‘Junior Row’ respectively. On these the Classes sit when ‘<span class="sc">up at books</span>,’ <i>i.e.</i>, when repeating lessons. +</p> +<p>(<i>d.</i>) <span class="sc">Books chambers.</span>—Explained by quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Mansfield</span>, <i>School-Life at Winchester College</i>, p. 103. On Remedies (a kind of whole holiday), we also went into School in the morning +and afternoon for an hour or two without masters; this was called <span class="sc">books chambers</span>; and on Sundays, from four till a quarter to five. +</p> +<p>(<i>e</i>) <span class="sc">To get</span> or <span class="sc">make books</span>.—To make the highest score at anything. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Books</span>, sense 2<i>a</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bookwork</b>, <i>subs.</i> (University).—Mathematics that can be learned <i>verbatim</i> from books—all that are not problems. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boom.</b>—This word is a comparatively recent production in its slang sense; and is variously +used as a substantive or as a verb. Before particularizing its special usages, it +may be interesting to note how, within a few years, it has made its appearance in +a variety of combinations; as, ‘the whole State is <span class="sc">booming</span> for Smith,’ or ‘the boys have whooped up the State to <span class="sc">boom</span> for Smith,’ or ‘the Smith <span class="sc">boom</span> is ahead in this State,’ etc., etc. Stocks and money are said to be <span class="sc">booming</span> when active; and any particular spot within a flourishing district is regarded as +within the <span class="sc">boom-belt</span>. A successful team or party is said to be a <span class="sc">booming squad</span>, and we <span class="pageNum" id="pb293">[<a href="#pb293">293</a>]</span>even read of <span class="sc">boomlets</span> to express progress of a lesser degree. [Its origin is largely a matter of conjecture, +but the most probable derivation is from the nautical phrase ‘boom-out,’ signifying +a vessel running rapidly before the wind; but Murray points out that as various associations +are probable, and as the actual use of the word has not been regulated by any distinct +etymological feeling, it is not likely that any derivation will account for all its +applications.] +</p> +<p><i>Subs.</i>—Commercial activity; rapid advance in prices; a flourishing state of affairs—in all +its applications it is synonymous with extreme vigour and effectiveness. The first +quotation carries its use back a few years beyond the earliest date given in the <i>New English Dictionary</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <i>Scribner’s Mag.</i>, July, p. 277. Another <span class="sc">boom</span> in prices is to be looked for. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Referee</i>, May 6, p. 3, col. 2. ‘The Merry Duchess’ is a big <span class="sc">boom</span>, and I understand that money is being turned away nightly. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">M. Twain</span>, <i>Life on the Mississippi</i>, ch. lvii., p. 499. I lived here in 1857—an extraordinary year there in real-estate +matters. The <span class="sc">boom</span> was something wonderful. Everybody bought, everybody sold … anything in the semblance +of a town lot, no matter how situated, was saleable. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Boston Daily Globe.</i> After the Sheridan reception, of course John Sherman must come to Boston. The Ohio +statesman knows where all the real live <span class="sc">booms</span> start. If Mr. Blaine is wise he also will come to the ‘Hub’ without delay. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Missouri Republican</i>, 16 Feb. ‘Jim, they say thar is a big <span class="sc">bum</span> up at Rome.’ ‘What’s that?’ said Jim. ‘It’s a kind of new tradin’ business what swells +and shrinks, and the sweller and shrinker stays down in a celler and works the machine. +They trade in stock.’ ‘Horses and mules?’ said Jim. ‘No, hit’s all on paper, and nobody +can see what he’s buyin’. You put your money in and wait for a swell. If it comes +you are all right, but if a shrink comes you are busted, and you feel so ashamed that +you don’t say anything about it, and it never gets into the papers—nothing but the +swells gits into the papers. +</p> +<p><i>Verb, intr.</i>—To go off with a <span class="sc">boom</span>.—<i>See subs.</i> To make rapid and vigorous progress; to advance by leaps and bounds; <i>trans.</i> to push; to puff; to bring into prominence with a rush. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">S. L. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>Gilded Age</i>, ch. xxvii. There’s 200,000 dollars coming, and that will set things <span class="sc">booming</span> again. +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <i>Scribner’s Mag.</i>, July, p. 272. Stocks may <span class="sc">boom</span> to-day, but droop to-morrow, and with the crash come remorse and repentance. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 277. When stocks are active they are said to be <span class="sc">booming</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">M. Twain</span>, <i>Huckleberry Finn</i>, xiii., 3. We <span class="sc">boomed</span> along down the river, watching for lights and watching for our raft. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Chicago Daily Inter-Ocean.</i> The city of Paris is said to be diminishing instead of increasing in population. +They don’t know how to <span class="sc">boom</span> a town over there. +</p> +<p>As already stated, <span class="sc">boom</span> enters into many combinations; <span class="sc">boomer</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), <span class="sc">boom-belt</span>, <span class="sc">booming-squad</span>, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>New Orleans Picayune.</i> A <span class="sc">boom</span> in North Carolina is not the kind of phenomenon to which we are accustomed here. +Sales of land at from 2 dols. to 10 dols. an acre in a <span class="sc">boom belt</span> are not of record hereabout. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Chicago Herald.</i> Ben Butterworth, of Ohio, one of the mainstays of John Sherman’s <span class="sc">booming squad</span>, has just had the title of boss Republican tariff debater conferred upon him by the +culture of Boston. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To top one’s boom off</span>, <i>phr.</i> (nautical).—To be off, or to start in a certain direction. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb294">[<a href="#pb294">294</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1871. <span class="sc">G. Meredith</span>, <i>Harry Richmond</i>, ch. xxxviii., p. 346 (1886). ‘And now <span class="sc">top your boom</span>, and to bed here.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boomer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—1. One who <span class="sc">booms</span> or causes an enterprise to become flourishing, active or notorious. [From <span class="sc">boom</span>, <i>subs.</i>, + <span class="sc">er</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Times</i>, Sept. 26, p. 8. [He] is a North-Western <span class="sc">boomer</span> of great earnestness. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Boston</i> (Mass.) <i>Journal</i>, Aug. 19, p. 2, col. 4. The Oklahoma <span class="sc">boomers</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>2. Attributively applied to anybody or anything considerably above the average. Thus, +what English people would call a bouncing lie, an American, if given to slang, would +call a <span class="sc">boomer</span>; so also a fine woman, a horse with extra good points, etc., etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boomerang</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—Figuratively used to signify acts or words, the results of which recoil +upon the person from whom they originate. The <span class="sc">boomerang</span> is properly an Australian missile weapon which, when thrown, can be made to return +to the thrower; or which, likewise, can be caused to take an opposite direction to +that in which it is first thrown. +</p> +<p class="cit">1845. <span class="sc">Holmes</span>, <i>Modest Request</i>, Poems (1884), 42. Like the strange weapon, which the Australian throws, Your verbal +<span class="sc">boomerang</span> slaps you on the nose. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Lowell</span>, <i>Among My Books</i>, 1 S. (1873), 219. The <span class="sc">boomerang</span> of argument, which one throws in the opposite direction of what he means to hit. +[<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Booming</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (American).—Flourishing; active; in good form; large; astonishing.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Boom</span> and <span class="sc">Boomer</span> in all senses. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boom-Passenger</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—A sailor’s slang term for a convict on board ship. Derived from the circumstance +that prisoners on board convict ships were chained to, or were made to crawl along +or stand on the booms for exercise or punishment.—<i>Hotten.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boon-Companion</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial).—A comrade in a drinking bout; a good fellow. [<span class="sc">Boon</span> is evidently a corruption of the French <i lang="fr">bon</i>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1566. <span class="sc">Drant</span>, <i>Med. Morall</i>, A. v. He is my <span class="sc">bone</span> companion, it’s he that cheares up me. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">Greene</span>, <i>Quip</i>, in wks. XI., 220. To seeke good consortes and <span class="sc">boone companions</span> to passe away the day withall. +</p> +<p class="cit">1594. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Terrors of the Night</i>, in wks. III., 228. Our Poets or <span class="sc">boone companions</span> they are out of question. +</p> +<p class="cit">1600. <span class="sc">W. Kemp</span>, <i>Nine Days’ Wonder</i>, in Arber’s <i>English Garner</i>, vol. VII., p. 27. And coming to my inn, where the host was a very <span class="sc">boon companion</span>, I desired to see him. +</p> +<p class="cit">1712. <span class="sc">Arbuthnot</span>, <i>History of John Bull</i>, pt. I., ch. v. This was occasioned by his being a <span class="sc">boon companion</span>, loving his bottle and his diversion. +</p> +<p class="cit">1825. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>St. Ronan’s Well</i>, ch. xxiii. The morning after a debauch is usually one of reflection, even to the +most customary <span class="sc">boon companion</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1827. <span class="sc">Lytton</span>, <i>Pelham</i>, ch. lxvii. We went downstairs to our dinner, as charmed with each other as <span class="sc">boon companions</span> always should be. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boon-Companionship</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial).—Jollity; conviviality.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Boon-companion</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Strange Newes</i>, in wks. II., 176. Thinke not, though vnder correction Of your <span class="sc">boone-companionship</span>, I am disposd to be a little pleasant, I condemne you of anie immoderation, either +in eating or drinking. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Lytton</span>, <i>Caxtons</i>, pt. XII., ch. iv. A little society, and <span class="sc">boon-companionship</span> … would take Roland out of those gloomy reveries. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb295">[<a href="#pb295">295</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Boong.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bung</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boorde.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bord</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boost</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A hoisting; a ‘shove’; a ‘lift’; a ‘push up’—a New England vulgarism. +</p> +<p class="cit">1858. <span class="sc">Dow</span>, <i>Sermons</i>. Office seekers ask you to give them a <span class="sc">boost</span> into the tree of office. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <span class="sc">T. A. Richards</span>, <i>Rice Fields of the South</i>. [A negro-preacher in South Carolina, <i>loq.</i>] ‘For, my bredderen, little Zaccheus was bound to see the Lord for once, dough he +had to climb up de tree to do it. And how did he get up der tree? Ah, how did he get +up der tree, my bredderen? Did he wait for some lazy nigger to bring him a ladder? +Ah, no, my bredderen. Did he wait to be <span class="sc">boosted</span>? Ah, no, my bredderen. Not a <span class="sc">boost</span>! He climbed right straight up der tree hisself, like de possum, by his own hands +and feet and de grace of God!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Puck’s Library</i>, May, p. 11. A genius took hold of the business, and gave it a little <span class="sc">boost</span>. He was a man of the times, and he applied his reasoning faculties to the problem +presented to him. ‘What,’ he asked, ‘is the chief means of success?’ +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To hoist; to lift up; to shove.—<i>See subs.</i> +</p> +<p class="cit">1848–64. <span class="sc">J. R. Lowell</span>, <i>Biglow Papers</i>, II., 106. Whereas ole Abram ’d sink afore he’d let a darkie <span class="sc">boost</span> him. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">S. L. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>Roughing It</i>, ch. vii. You ought to have seen that spider-legged old skeleton go! and you ought +to have seen the bull cut out after him, too—head down, tongue out, tail up, bellowing +like everything, and actually mowing down the weeds, and tearing up the earth, and +<span class="sc">boosting</span> up the sand like a whirlwind! +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Harper’s Magazine</i>, Aug., p. 481, col. 1. <span class="sc">To boost</span> a jurist of so much helpless avoirdupois in through the carriage door. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boosy.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Boozy</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boot</b>, <i>verb</i> (military).—To beat; to punish with a strap. The punishment is irregular and unconventional, +being inflicted by soldiers on a comrade discovered guilty of some serious breach +of the unwritten law of comradeship, such as theft, etc. The beating was formerly +inflicted with a bootjack—hence the name. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Booth</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A house; ‘to heave a <span class="sc">booth</span>,’ <i>i<span>.</span>e.</i>, ‘to rob a house.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Booth-Burster</b>, <i>subs.</i> (theatrical).—A loud and noisy actor. A variant of <span class="sc">barn-stormer</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Booting</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—A punishment administered with a strap. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Colting</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boot-Joe</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—Musketry drill. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boot-Leg Plan.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">On the boot-leg plan</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bootlick</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A flunkey; hanger-on; or doer of dirty work. [In England such a one is +called a ‘bootlicker,’ of which <span class="sc">bootlick</span> is probably an abbreviated form.] +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To toady; to hang on; to undertake ‘dirty’ work. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boots</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial).—1. The servant at hotels and places of a kindred character who cleans +the boots of visitors. Formerly called boot-catchers, because in the old riding and +coaching days part of their duty was to divest travellers of their footgear. +</p> +<p>2. (military.)—The youngest officer in a regimental mess. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Like old boots</span>—<span class="sc">beans</span>—<span class="sc">bricks</span>—<span class="sc">blazes</span>, etc., <i>phr.</i> (common).<span class="pageNum" id="pb296">[<a href="#pb296">296</a>]</span>—Thoroughly; vigorously. A simile as general in its application as it is irrelevant. +It may mean anything, everything, and nothing. Why old boots and not new boots is +beyond comprehension. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Sir Jasper</i>, ch. xxvii., p. 282. I’ll stick to you <span class="sc">like old boots</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <i>Saturday Review</i>, Jan., p. 55. An Oxford man, nay even a Balliol man … introduced in the story a pleasing +change by such a phrase as jawing away <span class="sc">like old boots</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To buy old boots</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To marry or keep the cast-off mistress of another man. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To die in one’s boots</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boots and Leathers.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Commoner peal</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Booty.</b> <span class="sc">To play booty</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To play falsely; dishonestly; or unfairly; this with the object of not winning, +a previous arrangement having been made with a confederate to share the spoils resulting +from the bogus play. Sometimes it takes the form of permitting the victim to win small +stakes in order to encourage him to hazard larger sums which, naturally, he is not +allowed to win.—<i>See</i> quotation from Dyche. +</p> +<p class="cit">1575. <i>Frat. of Vacabondes</i>, p. 13. They wil make as much as they can, and consent as though they wil <span class="sc">play booty</span> againt him. +</p> +<p class="cit">1608. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Belman of London</i>, in wks. (Grosart) III., 133. They … haue still an eare how the layes [bets] are +made, and according to that leuell doe they throw their bowles, so that be sure the +bowlers <span class="sc">play booty</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1742. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Joseph Andrews</i>, bk. I., ch. ii. The best gamesters, before they laid their money, always inquired +which horse little Joey was to ride; and the bets were rather proportioned by the +rider than by the horse himself; especially after he had scornfully refused a considerable +bribe to <span class="sc">play booty</span> on such an occasion. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Booty</span> (s.), plunder, spoil, prize; also a cant word signifying a pretence to one thing, +and at the same time intends and does the contrary, in order to cheat, impose upon, +and draw in a person to lay wagers, play at some game, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1776. <span class="sc">Colman</span>, <i>The Spleen</i>, in wks. (1777) IV., 276. Jubilee started and stumbled but, by-the-bye, I believe +his rider <span class="sc">played booty</span>—Duenna won the stakes, and the knowing ones were all taken in. +</p> +<p class="cit">1817. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Rob Roy</i>, ch. vii. ‘Were he caught <span class="sc">playing booty</span>, he would be disarmed, and probably dismounted.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1831. <span class="sc">Disraeli</span>, <i>Young Duke</i>. One thing remained to be lost—what he called his honour, which was already on the +scent to <span class="sc">play booty</span>. +</p> +<p>So also <span class="sc">booty</span> = playing <span class="sc">booty</span>, and <span class="sc">booty-fellow</span>, a sharer in the plunder. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Booze</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. Drink; a draught. The older forms are <span class="sc">bouse</span> or <span class="sc">bouze</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), but <span class="sc">booze</span> in its present form appears as early as 1714. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1714. <i>Memoirs of John Hall</i> (4 ed.), p. 11. <span class="sc">Booze</span>, Drink. [List of cant words.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act ii., Sc. 6. <i>Jemmy.</i> Gemmen, have you ordered the peck and <span class="sc">booze</span> for the evening? <i>Sold. Suke.</i> Aye, aye, I’ve taken care of that—shoulder of veal and garnish—Turkey and appendleges—Parmesan—Filberds—Port +and Madery. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Sporting Times</i>, 6 July. <i>Kid.</i> The Music Hall Sports are at Alexandra Park on the 23rd, and there will be rare doings +on that occasion. Master and Shifter both give prizes, and there will be <span class="sc">booze</span> in our drag. +</p> +<p>2. A drinking bout; a tipsy frolic. Murray’s first quote for this form and sense is +dated 1864; but, from the following, <span class="pageNum" id="pb297">[<a href="#pb297">297</a>]</span>it will be seen to be at least thirty years older. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Jamboree</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">H. Ainsworth</span>, <i>Rookwood</i>, bk. III., ch. v. ‘We’ll have a jolly <span class="sc">boose</span> when all’s over.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>St. James’s Gazette</i>, 19 Dec., p. 4, col. 1. There was a great <span class="sc">booze</span> on board. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (common).—To drink heavily; to tipple; to guzzle. An old term employed in some sense +of ‘to drink’ as early as 1300. Also <span class="sc">booze</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Swill</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i> (1814), p. 5. The buriall was tourned to <span class="sc">bousing</span> and belly cheere. +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Pierce Penilesse</i>, in wks. II., 91. They should haue all the companie that resort to them, bye <span class="sc">bowzing</span> and beere-bathing in their <span class="sc">bouses</span> every after-noone. +</p> +<p class="cit">1777. <span class="sc">Colman</span>, <i>Epilogue to Sheridan’s School for Scandal</i>. While good Sir Peter <span class="sc">boozes</span> with the squire. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Barry Lyndon</i>, ch. xiii., p. 173. ‘I wonder, Sir Charles Lyndon, a gentleman who has been the King’s +ambassador, can demean himself by gambling and <span class="sc">boozing</span> with low Irish black-legs!’ +</p> +<p>So also <span class="sc">boozed</span> (<i>ppl. adj.</i>), drunk, fuddled; <span class="sc">boozy</span> (<i>adj.</i>), drunken, ‘screwed’; <span class="sc">boozing</span> (<i>verbal subs.</i>), the act of drinking hard; and <span class="sc">boozer</span> (<i>subs.</i>), a drunkard, a tippler—examples of which respectively will be found hereunder in +sections. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>b.</i> 1529. <span class="sc">Skelton</span>, <i>Elynoor Rommin</i>, in <i>Hart. Misc.</i> (ed. Park), I., 416. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Droupy and drowsie, </p> +<p class="line">Scurvy and lousie </p> +<p class="line">Her face all <span class="sc">bowsie</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1592. <span class="sc">Greene</span>, <i>Quip</i>, in wks. XI., 253. To marke the <span class="sc">bowsie</span> drunkard to dye of the dropsy. +</p> +<p class="cit">1611. <span class="sc">Cotgrave</span>, <i>Piailleur</i>: m … a tipler, <span class="sc">bowser</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1616. <span class="sc">Jonson</span>, <i>Devil’s an Ass</i>, V., 4. And in the meantime, to be greasy, and <span class="sc">bouzy</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>English Rogue</i>, pt. I., ch. iv., p. 36 (1874). Most part of the night we spent in <span class="sc">boozing</span>, pecking rumly … that is drinking, eating. +</p> +<p class="cit">1693. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>Juvenal</i>, x., 288. Which in his cups the <span class="sc">bowsy</span> poet sings. +</p> +<p class="cit">1705. <span class="sc">Ward</span>, <i>Hudibras Redivivus</i>, vol. II., pt. IV., p. 14. Amongst a Crowd of Sots, half <span class="sc">boozy</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1819. <span class="sc">Wolcot</span>, <i>P. Pindar</i>, p. 303, ed. 1830. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">This landlord was a <span class="sc">boozer</span> stout, </p> +<p class="line">A snuff-taker and smoker. [<span class="sc">d.</span>] </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1848. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Book of Snobs</i>, ch. xxiii. The <span class="sc">boozy</span> unshorn wretch is seen hovering round quays as packets arrive, and tippling drams +in inn bars where he gets credit. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Book of Snobs</i>, ch. xxxiii. The quantity of brandy-and-water that Jack took showed what a regular +<span class="sc">boozer</span> he was. +</p> +<p class="cit">1850. <span class="sc">P. Crook</span>, <i>War of Hats</i>, 50. <span class="sc">Boozed</span> in their tavern dens, The scurril press drove all their dirty pens. +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <span class="sc">G. Eliot</span>, <i>Felix Holt</i>, ch. xi. ‘Till they can show there’s something they love better than swilling themselves +with ale, entension of the suffrage can never mean anything for them but entension +of <span class="sc">boozing</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Ally Sloper’s Half Holiday</i>, Aug. 24, p. 267, col. 2. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">In Canton gardens I have <span class="sc">boozed</span>; </p> +<p class="line">Beneath the palm-trees I have snoozed; </p> +<p class="line">I’ve seen the alligator smile, </p> +<p class="line">And peppered at the crocodile. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Boozing Cheat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A bottle. [From <span class="sc">booze</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), drink, + <span class="sc">cheat</span>, from A.S. <i lang="ang">ceat</i>, a thing.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boozing-Ken</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A drinking den. [From <span class="sc">booze</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), drink, + <span class="sc">ken</span>, a place.] A term of long standing. A French equivalent is <i lang="fr">une bibine</i>, but for general synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Lush crib</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i> (1814), p. 65. A <span class="sc">bowsing-ken</span>, a ale house. +</p> +<p class="cit">1610. <span class="sc">Rowlands</span>, <i>Martin Mark-all</i>, p. 37 (H. Club’s Repr., 1874). <span class="sc">Bowsing-ken</span>, an Ale-house. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb298">[<a href="#pb298">298</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1622. <span class="sc">Fletcher</span>, <i>Beggar’s Bush</i>, II., i. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">When last in conference at the <span class="sc">boozing-ken</span>, </p> +<p class="line">This other day we sat about our dead prince. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1714. <i>Memoirs of John Hall</i> (4 ed.), p. 11. <span class="sc">Boozing-ken</span>, an Ale-house. [List of cant words in.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">H. Ainsworth</span>, <i>Rookwood</i>, bk. III., ch. v. The hovel which they termed their <span class="sc">boozing-ken</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boozington</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Australian thieves’).—A drunkard. [Apparently a formation from <span class="sc">booze</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), to drink, on the model of <span class="sc">lushington</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), an English equivalent.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Elbow crooker</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Borachio</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A nickname for a drunkard; formerly a skin for holding wine. For synonyms, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Elbow crooker</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Borak.</b> <span class="sc">To poke borak</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (colonial).—To pour fictitious news into credulous ears; to ‘stuff’; to ‘kid.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1587. <i>Notes and Queries</i>, 7 S., iii., 476. <span class="sc">Poke borak</span>, applied in Colonial conversation to the operations of a person who pours fictitious +information into the ears of a credulous listener. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bord</b>, <b>Borde</b>, <b>Boorde</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—A shilling. The origin is unknown. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Blow</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i>, p. 85. <span class="sc">Roge</span>, but bouse there a <span class="sc">bord</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, but drink there a shilling. +</p> +<p class="cit">1610. <span class="sc">Rowlands</span>, <i>Martin Mark-all</i>, p. 37 (H. Club’s Repr., 1874). <span class="sc">Boord</span>, a shilling; Halfe a <span class="sc">Boord</span>, sixepence. +</p> +<p class="cit">1611. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Roaring Girle</i>, wks. (1873) III., 219. My Lord Noland … bestowes vpon you two, two <span class="sc">boordes</span> and a half. +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>English Rogue</i>, pt. I., ch. v., p. 47 (1874). <span class="sc">Borde</span>, a shilling. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. [The same definition.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bordeaux</b>, <i>subs.</i> (pugilistic).—Blood [an allusion to the colour of the wine. <i>Cf.</i> <span class="sc">Claret</span> and <span class="sc">Badminton</span>]. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Claret</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bord You!</b> <i>phr.</i> (nautical).—An expression used to claim the next turn in drinking. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bore</b>, <i>subs.</i> and <i>verb</i> (old slang, but now recognised).—Anybody or anything wearisome or annoying; to weary +or to be wearied. [The derivation is unknown, and the word does not appear in English +literature prior to 1750. Hotten’s reference to Shakspeare, <i>King Henry VIII.</i>, i., 1, +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line xd33e31485">At this instant </p> +<p class="line">He <span class="sc">bores</span> me with some trick, </p> +</div> +<p class="first">is a misreading, ‘bore’ in this instance signifying ‘to stab,’ as the context clearly +shows.] +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (sporting).—To push or thrust out of the course; and <span class="sc">boring</span>, <i>subs.</i>, the practice of ‘boring.’ Amongst pugilists it signifies to drive an opponent on +to the ropes of the ring by sheer weight, whilst amongst rowing men it denotes the +action of a coxswain in so steering a boat as to force his opponent into the shore, +or into still water, thus obtaining an unfair advantage; also analogously applied +to horse-racing. The term, as so used, is a very old one, and is derived from the +persistency of motion of a boring tool. +</p> +<p class="cit">1672. <span class="sc">Vanbrugh</span>, <i>Lover’s Quarrels</i>, 317 in Hazl. <i>E. P.</i>, pt. II., 266. He <span class="sc">bor’d</span> him out of the saddle fair. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress</i>. M—rl—y, that very great <span class="pageNum" id="pb299">[<a href="#pb299">299</a>]</span>Count, stood deploring, He hadn’t taught Georgy his new modes of <span class="sc">boring</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <i>The Fancy</i>, vol. I., p. 255. Evans <span class="sc">bored</span> in, and upset his man in the first round. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Edwin Drood</i>, ch. xvii., p. 129. Their fighting code stood in great need of revision, as empowering +them not only to <span class="sc">bore</span> their man to the ropes, but … also to hit him when he was down. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Born Days.</b> <span class="sc">All One’s Born Days</span>, <i>phr.</i> (colloquial).—One’s lifetime. +</p> +<p class="cit">1740. <span class="sc">Richarsdon</span>, <i>Pamela</i>, III., 383. He never was so delighted in his <span class="sc">born days</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1758. <span class="sc">Richardson</span>, <i>Grandison</i>, I., 103. There was one Miss Byron, a Northamptonshire lady, whom I never saw before +in my <span class="sc">born days</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1809. <span class="sc">Miss Edgeworth</span>, <i>Ennui</i>, ch. ix. Craiglethorpe will know just as much of the lower Irish as the Cockney who +has never been out of London, and who has never in all his <span class="sc">born days</span> seen an Irishman but on the English stage. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Born Weak</b>, <i>phr.</i> (nautical).—Said of a vessel feebly built.—<span class="sc">Clark Russell’s</span> <i>Sailors’ Language</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bosh</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Nonsense; rubbish; ‘stuff’; ‘rot’—anything beneath contempt. [The derivation +is uncertain. Murray says the word became current in England from its frequent occurrence +in Morier’s Persian novels, <i>Ayesha</i> [1834], etc., most of them extremely popular productions. Its source has been suggested +in the Turkish <i>bosh lakerdi</i>, ‘empty talk’; in the German <i lang="de">bosh</i> or <i lang="de">bossch</i>, an equivalent of ‘swipes’; and in the Gypsy <i>bosh</i>, ‘a noise,’ <span id="xd33e51334">‘</span>a fiddle,’ from which latter it has been thought that there may be some connection +between the exclamation <span class="sc">bosh!</span> and <span class="sc">fiddle-de-dee</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).] +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">Morier</span>, <i>Ayesha</i>, I., 219. This firman is <span class="sc">bosh</span>—nothing, [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">C. Kingsley</span>, <i>Two Years Ago</i>, ch. x. I always like to read old Darwin’s <i>Loves of the Plants</i>, <span class="sc">bosh</span> as it is in a scientific point of view. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Punch</i>, 10 Jan., p. 9, col. 2. ‘Prophet,’ said I, ‘of things evil!’ ‘Things are going to +the devil’ Is the formula of fogies, I have heard that <span class="sc">bosh</span> before. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To humbug; to spoil; to mar. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <i>Macmillan’s Magazine</i>, XXI, 71. You <span class="sc">bosh</span> his joke [a man’s] by refusing to laugh at it; you <span class="sc">bosh</span> his chance of sleep by playing on the cornet all night in the room next to him. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Golden Calf</i>, ch. xiv. ‘And wouldn’t he make a jolly schoolmaster?’ exclaimed Reginald. ‘Boys +would get on capitally with Jardine. They’d never try to <span class="sc">bosh</span> <i>him</i>.’ +</p> +<p><i>Intj.</i>—Nonsense! Rubbish! It’s all my eye!—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">All my eye</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Bleak House</i>, ch. xxi. <span class="sc">Bosh!</span> It’s all correct. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>, October 30, p. 3, col. 1. ‘You always learn in front of the looking-glass, do you +not, Mr. Brandram?’—‘<span class="sc">Bosh!</span>’ was the laughing reply. ‘I generally learn my plays and recitations whilst I am +dressing; but you don’t think I deliberately stand and make monkey-faces in the looking-glass.<span>’</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bosh Faker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vagrants’).—A violin player. [From Gypsy <i>bosh</i>, a violin, + <span class="sc">faker</span>, a performer or player.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 231. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Can you rocker Romanie </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Can you patter flash, </p> +<p class="line">Can you rocker Romanie </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Can you <span class="sc">fake a bosh</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Boshing</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—A flogging. [Apparently a corrupted form of <span class="sc">bashing</span>.]—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bash</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb300">[<a href="#pb300">300</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Boshy</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Trumpery; nonsensical.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bosh</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">F. Anstey</span>, <i>Vice Versâ</i>, ch. iv. ‘There was no dancing, only <span class="sc">boshy</span> games and a conjuror.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bos-Ken</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vagrants’).—A farmhouse. An old canting term. [From L. <i lang="la">bos</i> = <span class="sc">ox</span> + <span class="sc">ken</span>, a house.] <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Ken</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. I., p. 472. ‘Up at a <span class="sc">bosken</span> (farm-house) they’ll get among the servant girls.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boskiness</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—The quality of being fuddled with drink; bemused; a state of drunkenness. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Judy</i>, 31 August, p. 101. The Town Councillor had a squabble with his parent … and accused +him of <span class="sc">boskiness</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bosky</b>, <i>adj.</i> (popular).—Drunk; tipsy; fuddled. [Derivation uncertain; <span class="sc">bosky</span> = ‘wooded,’ or ‘bushy,’ and there may be an allusion to the obscurity and overshadowing, +peculiar to a wooded country. Bailey [1728] has also <span class="sc">bosky</span> = swelled, but does not give the slang sense of the word, although it appears in +the editions 1730–6. It may, therefore, be a figuratively humorous reading of ‘swelled,’ +<i>i.e.</i>, ‘tight.’] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Screwed</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Bosky</span> (<span class="sc">a.</span>), fuddled, half or quite drunk. +</p> +<p class="cit">1824. <i>Blackw. Mag.</i>, XVI., 573. He may be tipsy, <span class="sc">bosky</span>, cut, or anything but drunk. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Punch</i>, 17 April, p. 185. I got a bit <span class="sc">bosky</span> last night. Has the ’eadache got into my rhymes? +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bosman</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vagrants’).—A farmer. [From the Dutch <i lang="nl">bosch-man</i>, one who lives in the woods; otherwise <i lang="nl">Boschje-man</i>, or bushman.] <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bosken</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. I., p. 471. ‘I’ve seen the swell <span class="sc">bosmen</span> (farmers) buy the pills to give the people standing about.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boss</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American and English).—1. A master; a head man; one who directs. [From the Dutch +<i lang="nl">baas</i>, a master.] Few words have acquired a greater hold on American life than this term, +and the primitive meaning of master, overseer, or superior of any kind, though in +a large measure retained to this day, has been widened out in every direction. The +political boss is the leader whose word is law to his henchman. Boss Tweed, of New +York, is believed to have been the first to bear the title in a semi-official way. +The phrase <span class="sc">boss rule</span> is said to have been invented by Mr. Wayne MacVeagh, and employed by him in political +speeches in Chicago. It is now in common use in this sense. In the two first quotations +the word appears to be used much as in the modern sense. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Governor</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1590. <span class="sc">Marlowe</span>, <i>Tamburlaine</i>, pt. I., Act iii., Sc. 3. <i>Zab.</i> Base concubine, must thou be placed by me, That am the empress of the mighty Turk? +<i>Zen.</i> Disdainful Turkess and unreverend <span class="sc">boss</span>! +</p> +<p class="cit">1679. <span class="sc">M. Philipse</span>, <i>Early Voyage to New Netherlands</i> (quoted by De Vere). Here they had their first interview with the female <span class="sc">boss</span> or supercargo of the vessel. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">Bartlett</span>, <i>Americanisms</i>. I have never known a second wife but what was <span class="sc">boss</span> of the situation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1850. <i>New York Herald</i>, May 24. The Eternal City is in a very curious position. The Pope has returned to +his ancestral home; but he has nothing in his pocket, and Rothschild refuses to let +him have any more money. A thousand years ago, and the boot would have been on t’other +leg.… To-day it is very <span class="pageNum" id="pb301">[<a href="#pb301">301</a>]</span>different. The Father of Holiness is the dependent of the Jew, and Rothschild is the +real Pope and <span class="sc">boss</span> of all Europe. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>New York Herald</i>, Jan. 12. Alderman Campbell—I move an amendment to make Hamline the general superintendent +and chief <span class="sc">boss</span> of this whole gas business. +</p> +<p>2. (popular.)—A short-sighted person; also one who squints. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Boss-eyed</span> and <span class="sc">Boss</span>, <i>verb</i>, sense 2. +</p> +<p>3. (popular.)—A miss; a blunder. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Boss</span>, <i>verb</i>, sense 2. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i>—Pleasant; first rate; chief. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Echo</i>, March 3, p. 1, col. 4. The Americans are acknowledged to be the <span class="sc">boss</span> artificers in wood. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Brooklyn Daily Eagle</i>, March 18. Take it all together, with scarcity of food and little sleep, we had a +hard but a <span class="sc">boss</span> time. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—1. To manage; direct; control.—<i>See subs.</i>, sense 1. +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <i>National Intelligencer</i>, Nov. 3. The little fellow that <span class="sc">bosses</span> it over the crowd. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <i>Athenæum</i>, March 9. A child wishing to charge his sister with being the aggressor in a quarrel +for which he was punished, exclaimed, ‘I did not <span class="sc">boss</span> the job; it was sister.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Saturday Review</i>, April 28, p. 515, col. 1. It is long since the more respectable inhabitants of America +have been divided between the convenience of the Irish as hewers of wood and drawers +of water, and as voters easily <span class="sc">bossed</span> or bribed on the one hand, and the manifold nuisance of them on the other. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Sporting Times</i>, July 6. The Shah has fairly <span class="sc">bossed</span> everything this week—he has been chief actor in our social system. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Texas Siftings</i>, July. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">When lovely woman hires a servant </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And <span class="sc">bosses</span> her around all day, </p> +<p class="line">What makes the girl pray half so fervent </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">As her desire to run away. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">2. (popular.)—To miss one’s aim; to make such a shot as a <span class="sc">boss-eyed</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) person would be expected to make. <span class="sc">Boss-shot</span> is a common phrase. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>N. and Q.</i>, 7 S., iii., 236. <span class="sc">To boss</span> is schoolboy slang for ‘to miss.’ +</p> +<p>So also derivatives—<span class="sc">bossing</span>, acting as a boss; <span class="sc">bossism</span>, a system of management or wire-pulling; <span class="sc">bossy</span>, pertaining to the qualities of a leader. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bossers</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Spectacles.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Barnacles</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boss-Eyed</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Said of a person with one eye, or rather with one eye injured; a person +with an obliquity of vision. In this sense sometimes varied by <span class="sc">squinny-eyed</span> and <span class="sc">swivel-eyed</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). Also used as a <i>subs.</i>—<span class="sc">Boss-eye.</span> +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1884. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘Put me some Jam Roll by, Jenny.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Come where the waves roll high, Jenny, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Come where the waves roll high, </p> +<p class="line">Jenny, old girl, I love you, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Come where the waves roll high. </p> +<p class="line">Come where the waves roll high, Jenny, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Come where the sea-sick lie, </p> +<p class="line">Come where we eat salt-junk, love, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Come with your old <span class="sc">bos-eye</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first"><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Borgniat</i>; <i lang="fr">cligner des œillets</i> (a military term, ‘to be boss-eyed’); <i lang="fr">boiter des calots</i> (‘to be boss-eyed’); <i lang="fr">calorgne</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bostruchyzer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Oxford University).—A small kind of comb for curling the whiskers.—<i>Hotten.</i> Obsolete. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bot</b>, <b>Bott</b>, <b>Botts</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The colic; belly-ache; gripes. Properly a name given to maggots found in +the intestines of horses, under the hides of oxen, and in the nostrils of sheep. A +French equivalent is <i lang="fr">la tourmente</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘the torment.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1787. <span class="sc">Burns</span>, <i>Death and Dr. Hornbook</i>, st. 27. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">A countra Laird had ta’en the <span class="sc">batts</span>, </p> +<p class="line">Or some curmurring in his guts. </p> +</div> +<p><span class="pageNum" id="pb302">[<a href="#pb302">302</a>]</span></p> +<p class="first cit">1816. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Old Mortality</i>, ch. viii. ‘I ne’er gat ony gude by his doctrine, as ye ca’t, but a sour fit o’ the +<span class="sc">batts</span> wi’ sitting amang the wet moss-hays for four hours at a yoking. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Botanical Excursion</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A thief’s circumlocution for transportation—the allusion being to <span class="sc">Botany Bay</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Botany Bay</b>, <i>subs.</i> (University).—1. At Oxford, Worcester College is so designated on account of its +remote situation as regards the bulk of the collegiate buildings. It will be seen +that a similar reason has caused a certain portion of Trinity College, Dublin, to +receive an identical nickname. The general idea underlying the term is obviously that +to get to the places in question one has figuratively to go almost as far as if transported +to the real <span class="sc">Botany Bay</span>, formerly a convict settlement in New South Wales. +</p> +<p class="cit">1841. <span class="sc">Lever</span>, <i>Charles O’Malley</i>, ch. xx., <i>note</i>. <span class="sc">Botany Bay</span> was the slang name given by college men to a new square rather remotely situated +from the remainder of the college [<i>i.e.</i>, Trinity, Dublin]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Rev. E. Bradley</span> (‘Cuthbert Bede’), <i>Adventures of Verdant Green</i>, I., p. 63. A name given to W. College, from its being the most distant college. +</p> +<p>2. (thieves’ and prison.)—Penal servitude. Formerly convicts [1787–1867] were transported +to <span class="sc">Botany Bay</span>, a convict settlement at the Antipodes. Hence to go to <span class="sc">Botany Bay</span> was in popular use for a long term of imprisonment. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Botany-Bay Fever</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Transportation; penal servitude. Convicts condemned to transportation were +said to have died of, or to have <span class="sc">Botany-Bay fever</span>. <i>Cf.</i>, <i>Hempen fever</i> for hanging. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Botch</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A tailor. [An abbreviated form of ‘botcher,’ which has been used for a very +long period in all the following senses—a cobbler, tailor who does repairs, jobber, +and an unskilful workman.] Also called a <span class="sc">Snip</span>, which <i>see</i> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bottle.</b> <span class="sc">To turn out no bottle</span>, <i>phr.</i> (sporting).—Not to turnout well; to fail. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bottle-Ache</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Drunkenness; also applied to an attack of <i lang="la">delirium tremens</i>. [From <span class="sc">bottle</span>, in allusion to drink causing indisposition, + <span class="sc">ache</span>, a pain or sickness.] There are many curious terms for this effect of intemperance, +such as Jim-jams, barrel-fever, quart-mania; but for full list of synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Gallon distemper</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bottle-Arsed</b>, <i>adj. phr.</i> (printers’).—Type thicker at one end than the other—a result of wear and tear. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bottle-holder</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A second at a prize-fight, hence— +</p> +<p>2. One who gives moral support; a backer; an adviser. In the <i>Times</i> of 1851, Lord Palmerston was reported to consider himself the <span class="sc">bottle-holder</span> of oppressed states: and in <i>Punch</i> of the same year, a cartoon appeared representing that statesman as the ‘judicious +<span class="sc">bottle-holder</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1753. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Ct. Fathom</i> (<span class="sc">l.</span>). An old bruiser makes a good <span class="sc">bottle-holder</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb303">[<a href="#pb303">303</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1816. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Antiquary</i>, ch. xxxix. Petrie … recommends, upon his own experience, as tutor in a family of +distinction, this attitude to all led captains, tutors, dependents, and <span class="sc">bottle-holders</span> of every description. +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>The Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. ii. Cold water, and a little vinegar, applied according to the scientific method +practised by the <span class="sc">bottle-holders</span> in a modern ring. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Philip</i>, ch. xl. ‘Do you remember his tremendous fight with Biggs?’ ‘Remember? who didn’t? +Marston was Berry’s <span class="sc">bottle-holder</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bottle-Holding</b>, <i>verbal subs.</i> (common).—Backing; supporting. +</p> +<p class="cit">1878–80. <span class="sc">Justin MacCarthy</span>, <i>History of Our Own Times</i>, II., p. 115. The noble lord (Palmerston) told the deputation that the past crisis +was one which required on the part of the British Government much generalship and +judgment, and that a good deal of judicious <span class="sc">bottle-holding</span> was obliged to be brought into play. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bottle of Brandy in a Glass</b>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—A glass of beer; a recent and absurd slang introduction. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bottle of Spruce</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming slang).—Twopence. The play of words is upon ‘deuce’ = two. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bottles</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Stock Exchange).—Barrett’s Brewery and Bottling Co. Shares. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bottle-Sucker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—An able-bodied seaman; the abbreviation is A.B.S., and <span class="sc">a bottle-sucker</span> is supposed to be a humorous rendering. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bottle-Up</b>, <i>verb</i> (old).—To restrain (temper, feelings, etc.); to keep or hold back. +</p> +<p class="cit">1622. <span class="sc">T. Scott</span>, <i>Belg. Pismire</i>, 53. Vapours … <span class="sc">botteled up</span> in cloudes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <span class="sc">H. Kingsley</span>, <i>Austin Elliot</i>, ch. xi. Austin played very bad, trumped his partner’s … knave, led out strong suits +of trumps without any suit to follow, <span class="sc">bottled</span> them when his partner led them first time round. +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <i>Cincinnati Commercial</i>, April, p. 637. He will <span class="sc">bottle up</span> his wrath, having had some experience in the line of <span class="sc">bottling up</span> during the war, and pour out his vials upon General Farnsworth’s head, whenever the +occasion offers. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bottom</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial).—1. The posteriors; not now in literary use. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Blind-cheeks</span> and <span class="sc">Bum</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1794–6. <span class="sc">E. Darwin</span>, <i>Zoon.</i> (1801), III., 253. So as to have his head and shoulders much lower than his <span class="sc">bottom</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1822–36. <span class="sc">J. Wilson</span>, <i>Noctes<span id="xd33e52200"></span> Ambr.</i>, xxxix. (1864), iv., 79. The Dunghill cock … hides his head in a hole … unashamed +of the exposure of his enormous <span class="sc">bottom</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Carlyle</span>, <i>Fr. Rev.</i>, II., iv., i., 185. Patriot women take their hazel wands, and fustigate … broad <span class="sc">bottom</span> of priests. +</p> +<p>2. (popular.)—Capital; resources; stamina; ‘grit.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1662. <span class="sc">Fuller</span>, <i>Worthies</i> (1840), II., 451. Beginning on a good <span class="sc">bottom</span> left him by his father. +</p> +<p class="cit">1747. <span class="sc">Captn. Godfrey</span>, <i>Science of Defence</i>, p. 34. I have mentioned strength and art as the two ingredients of a boxer. But +there is another, which is vastly necessary; that is, what we call a <span class="sc">bottom</span>.… There are two things required to make this <span class="sc">bottom</span>, that is, wind and spirit, or heart, or wherever you can fix the residence of courage. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress</i>, pref., p. xv. The peculiarities of this boxer discussed—his power of standing with +his arms extended for two whole days, without any rest, by which means he wore out +his adversaries’ <span class="sc">bottom</span>, and conquered without either giving or taking. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>V. Fair</i>, vol. II., ch. xiv. He did not like to dine with Steyne now. They had run races of +pleasure together in youth when Bareacres was the winner. But Steyne had more <span class="sc">bottom</span> than he, and had lasted him out. +</p> +<p>3. (popular.)—Spirit placed in a glass prior to the addition <span class="pageNum" id="pb304">[<a href="#pb304">304</a>]</span>of water. [From <span class="sc">bottom</span>, the lowest surface or part of anything, the foundation, the basis. <i>See</i> peculiar American usage in 1883 quot.] Also used as a verb. +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <span class="sc">Sir Theo. Martin</span>, <i>Bon Gaultier Ballads</i>. <span class="sc">Bottomed</span> well with brandy. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">A. Trollope</span>, <i>Three Clerks</i>, ch. xxxi. Gin and water was the ordinary tipple in the front parlour; and any one +of its denizens inclined to cut a dash above his neighbours, generally did so with +a <span class="sc">bottom</span> of brandy. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, 2 July, p. 5, col. 3. Soda and <span class="sc">dark bottom</span> is mentioned in a list of American drinks in this article. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To knock the bottom out of one</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—To overcome; to defeat, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Cleveland Leader.</i> The declination of Mr. Blaine, has knocked the <span class="sc">bottom</span> out of Mugwumpery. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bottom Dollar</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (American).—The last dollar. The phrase ‘to bet one’s <span class="sc">bottom dollar</span>’ is frequently heard. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bottom Facts</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (American).—The exact truth about any matter. To ‘get to the <span class="sc">bottom facts</span>’ concerning a subject, is to arrive at an unquestionable conclusion concerning it; +or, as is said in England, to get to the root of the question. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">S. L. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>Life on the Mississippi</i>, p. 393. You take a family able to emba’m, and you’ve got a soft thing. You can mention +sixteen different ways to do it—though there aint only one or two ways when you come +down to the <span class="sc">bottom facts</span> of it—and they’ll take the highest priced way every time. It’s human nature—human +nature in grief. +</p> +<p>The phrase is also varied by <span class="sc">bottom rock</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Omaha World.</i> <span class="sc">Bottom Rock.</span> Conductor (on California train some years hence)—‘All out for Pitholeville.’ Real +Estate Agent (entering car)—‘Orange groves and apple orchards, two for a penny.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bottomless Pit</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old slang).—A coarse and vulgar name for the female <i>pudenda</i>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Monosyllable</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Botty</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—An infant’s posteriors; the French say <i lang="fr">tu tu</i>. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i> (popular).—Conceited; swaggering. <span class="sc">To look botty</span> is in French, <i lang="fr">faire sa merde</i>; <i lang="fr">faire son matador</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bough</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The gallows. <span class="sc">Tree</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) is used in a similar sense. +</p> +<p class="cit">1590. <span class="sc">Swinburn</span>, <i>Testaments</i>, 53. Or in Kent in Gauelkind … for there it is said, the father to the <span class="sc">boughe</span>, and the son to the ploughe. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1596. <span class="sc">Spenser</span>, <i>State Irel.</i>, wks. (1862), p. 553, col. 2. Some … have beene for their goods sake caught up, and +carryed straight to the <span class="sc">bough</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Morris</span>, <i>Earthly Par.</i>, III., iv., 77. If she doom thee to the <span class="sc">bough</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boughs.</b> <span class="sc">Up in the boughs</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—In a passion. Quoted by Grose. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bounce</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Brag; swagger; boastful falsehood and exaggeration. +</p> +<p class="cit">1714. <span class="sc">Steele</span>, <i>Lover</i> (1723), 93. This is supposed to be only a <span class="sc">bounce</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Bounce</span> (<span class="sc">s.</span>) … also the huff, brag, or swaggering of a bully or great pretender. +</p> +<p class="cit">1765. <span class="sc">Goldsmith</span>, <i>Haunch of Venison</i>, l. 14. But hold—let me pause—don’t I hear you pronounce this tale of the bacon a +damnable <span class="sc">bounce</span>? +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>Kate Coventry</i>, ch. i. Only tell a man you think him good-looking, and he falls in <span class="pageNum" id="pb305">[<a href="#pb305">305</a>]</span>love with you directly; or if that is too great a <span class="sc">bounce</span>—and indeed very few of them have the slightest pretensions to beauty—you need only +hint that he rides gallantly. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Blackwood’s Mag.</i>, May, p. 670. The whole heroic adventure was the veriest <span class="sc">bounce</span>, the merest bunkum! +</p> +<p>2. Impudence; cheek; <span class="sc">brass</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1872–4. <span class="sc">John Forster</span>, <i>Life of Dickens</i>, ch. lx. It is the face of the Webster type, but without the <span class="sc">bounce</span> of Webster’s face. +</p> +<p>3. A boaster; swaggerer; showy swindler; bully. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bouncer</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dict.</i> <span class="sc">Bounce</span>, a person well or fashionably drest is said to be a <span class="sc">rank bounce</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—1. To boast; bluster; hector; bully; blow up. +</p> +<p class="cit">1633. <span class="sc">Fletcher</span>, <i>Nt. Walkers</i>, IV., i. I doe so whirle her to the Counsellors’ chambers … and <span class="sc">bounce</span> her for more money. +</p> +<p class="cit">1698. <span class="sc">Ward</span>, <i>London Spy</i>, pt. XVIII., p. 428. With lies he tells his Bloody Feats, And <span class="sc">Bounces</span> like a Bully. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Bounce</span> (v.), to swagger, boast, crack, stump, or pretend to great matters. +</p> +<p class="cit">1749. <span class="sc">Walpole</span>, <i>Lett. to Mann</i>, 3 May (1833), vol. II., p. 374. The Lords had four tickets a-piece, and each Commoner +at first but two, till the Speaker <span class="sc">bounced</span> and obtained a third. +</p> +<p class="cit">1760. <span class="sc">Colman</span>, <i>Polly Honeycombe</i>, in wks. (1777) IV., 55. Nay, nay, old gentleman, no <span class="sc">bouncing</span>; you’re mistaken in your man, sir! +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">H. Kingsley</span>, <i>Geoffrey Hamlyn</i>, ch. v. ‘He’ll be drinking at all the places coming along to get his courage up to +<span class="sc">bounce</span> me.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily News</i>, July 26, p. 4, col. 8. <span class="sc">To bounce</span> is simply to prevail on persons whose mirth interferes with the general enjoyment +to withdraw from society which they embarrass rather than adorn. +</p> +<p>2. To lie; to cheat; to swindle. +</p> +<p class="cit">1762. <span class="sc">Foote</span>, <i>Liar</i>, II., i. If it had come to an oath, I don’t think he would have <span class="sc">bounced</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <span class="sc">H. Kingsley</span>, <i>Austin Elliot</i>, ch. x. ‘It’s them gals, Mr. Austin, got a shilling of mine among un somewhere, and +wants to <span class="sc">bounce</span> me out of it.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">On the bounce</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—In a state of spasmodic movement; general liveliness. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Sporting Times</i>, June 29. Funny to a degree was it to watch some of the select and chosen of Lord +Coventry, Major Clements, and those that rule the interior of the Invited Enclosure +at Ascot. Several well known defaulters would be observed going to and fro ‘<span class="sc">on the bounce</span>,’ including one young gentleman who once signed his surname uninitialled to a cheque +which was cashed by a confiding tradesman, who took the said endorsement for that +of his baronial parent. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To get the grand bounce</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—This is equivalent, in political parlance, to dismissal, especially in +reference to government appointments. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bounceable</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Prone to bouncing or boasting; ‘uppish’; ‘bumptious.’ [From <span class="sc">bounce</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">able</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1830. <span class="sc">S. Warren</span>, <i>Diary of a Late Physician</i>, ch. xvi. As soon as we had exhibited sundry doses of Irish cordial to our friend +Tip—under the effects of which he became quite <span class="sc">bouncible</span>, and <i>ranted</i> about the feat he was to take a prominent part in. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>David Copperfield</i>, ch. iv. I heard that Mr. Sharp’s wig didn’t fit him; and that he needn’t be so <span class="sc">bounceable</span>—somebody else said ‘bumptious’—about it. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bouncer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. A bully; hector; blusterer; one who talks swaggeringly. [From the <i>verb</i> <span class="sc">bounce</span>, senses 1 and 2, + <span class="sc">er</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (4 ed.). <span class="sc">Bouncer</span> (<span class="sc">s.</span>), a bully or hectoring bravado. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>Lon. Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, IV., 24. Those who cheat the <span class="pageNum" id="pb306">[<a href="#pb306">306</a>]</span>Public … <span class="sc">Bouncers</span> and Besters defrauding, by laying wagers, swaggering, or using threats. +</p> +<p>2. (thieves<span id="xd33e52723">’.</span>)—A thief who steals goods from shop counters while bargaining with the tradesman. +The exact French equivalent is <i lang="fr">dégringoleur</i>, and the practice itself is termed <i lang="fr">dégringoler à la carre</i>. +</p> +<p>3. (common.)—A lie; a liar. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Whopper</span>. [This usage in many instances completely overlaps sense 4.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1762. <span class="sc">Foote</span>, <i>Liar</i>, II., i. He will tell ye more lies in an hour, than all the circulating libraries +put together will publish in a year … he was always distinguished by the facetious +appellation of the <span class="sc">bouncer</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1833. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Peter Simple</i>, ch. xxxi. ‘He’s … such a <span class="sc">bouncer</span>!!… I mean that he’s the greatest liar that ever walked a deck.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">M. E. Braddon</span>, <i>Dead Sea Fruit</i>, ch. xxii. ‘In that case, I should say wait, and put your trust in Time—Time, the +father of Truth, as Mary Stuart called him when she wanted to go in for a <span class="sc">bouncer</span>,—and oh, what an incredible number of royal <span class="sc">bouncers</span> were carried to and fro in the despatches of that period!’ +</p> +<p>4. (common.)—Anything large of its kind; a ‘whopper’; a ‘thumper’; a ‘corker.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1596. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Saffron Walden</i>, in wks. III., 140. My Book will grow such a <span class="sc">bouncer</span>, that those which buy it must bee faine to hire a porter to carry it after them in +a basket. +</p> +<p>5. (American.)—A man who ejects; a ‘<span class="sc">chucker-out</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily News</i>, July 26, p. 4, col. 8. The other fresh American type is less remarkable—the <span class="sc">bouncer</span>. One might suppose that a <span class="sc">bouncer</span> was a noisy braggart; but no. A scientific writer in the <i>Nation</i> describes a <span class="sc">bouncer</span> as a ‘silent, strong man.’ Every one who mixes much in society in Whitechapel will +understand the functions of the <span class="sc">bouncer</span> when we explain that he is merely the English ‘chucker-out.’ +</p> +<p>6. (harlotry.)—A prostitute’s companion; ponce; bully. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Ponce</span>. +</p> +<p>7. (naval.)—A gun that ‘kicks’ when fired. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bouncing</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (common).—Vigorous; lusty; exaggerated; excessive; big. This word has manifold meanings, +referring, in its various senses, to largeness of size, vigour of action, with the +idea of ungainliness rather than elegance. It is, as will be seen, of long continued +use. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1563. <i>Jacke Jugder</i>, p. 42 (ed. Grosart). And made you a banket [banquet], and <span class="sc">bouncing</span> cheare. +</p> +<p class="cit">1588. <i>Marprelate’s Epistle</i>, p. 14 (ed. Arber). For there must bee orders of ministers in the congregation where +you meane this <span class="sc">bounsing</span> priest should haue superiortie. +</p> +<p class="cit">1611. <span class="sc">Middleton</span>, <i>Roaring Girle</i>, Act iii., Sc. 3. The duck that sits is the <span class="sc">bouncing</span> ramp, that roaring girl my mistress. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Rod. Random</i>, ch. xix. While I was at work in the shop, a <span class="sc">bouncing</span> damsel, well dressed, came in. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Vanity Fair</i>, ch. ii. By the side of many tall and <span class="sc">bouncing</span> young ladies in the establishment, Rebecca Sharp looked like a child. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bouncing Cheat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A bottle. [<span class="sc">Bouncing</span>, probably, says Grose, an allusion to the explosive noise made in drawing a cork, ++ <span class="sc">cheat</span>, a thing = Anglo Saxon <i lang="ang">ceat</i> of the same meaning.] The French equivalent is <i lang="fr">une rouillarde</i> or <i lang="fr">rouille</i>, said to be derived from <i lang="fr">rouler</i>. Empty bottles, it may be mentioned, are known as <span class="sc">dead-men</span>; <span class="sc">camp-candlesticks</span>; <span class="sc">dead-marines</span>; <span class="sc">fellow-commoners</span>, etc. For other synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Dead-men</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb307">[<a href="#pb307">307</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bounder</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. A four-wheeled cab or <span class="sc">growler</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). [Supposed to be an allusion to the jolting motion caused when travelling over a +rough road, a fact intensified by the indifferent springs upon which such vehicles +are often hung.] +</p> +<p>2. (University.)—A student whose manners are not acceptable; one whose companionship +is not cared for. +</p> +<p>3. (University.)—A dog-cart. <i>Cf.</i>, sense 1. +</p> +<p>4. (common.)—A vulgar though well-dressed man; a superior kind of ‘’Arry’; one whose +dress and personal appearance are correct, but whose manners are of a questionable +character. The term is very often used in connection with <span class="sc">bally</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). a <span class="sc">bally-bounder</span> is one of the most objectionable of the genus. A synonymous term is <span class="sc">snide</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), and French equivalents are <i lang="fr">un mufe</i> and <i lang="fr">un espèce de cafouilleux</i>. A curious instance of French back-slang is found in another name—<i lang="fr">un lof</i>, <i lang="fr">loff</i>, <i lang="fr">loffard</i>, <i lang="fr">loffe</i>; <i lang="fr">lof</i> here is <i lang="fr">fol</i> reversed, <i>i.e.</i>, mad, senseless, foolish. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bound To Be Had</b>, <b>Bound To Shine</b>, etc., <i>ppl. adj.</i> (colloquial).—This expression enters into many slang phrases; for instance, when +it seems certain that a man will be out-witted, cheated, or ‘bested,’ it is said of +him that he is <span class="sc">bound to be had</span>; similarly, a man fated or resolved to distinguish himself is <span class="sc">bound to shine</span>. The colloquial use of <span class="sc">bound</span> dates back as far as 1360, but the peculiar expressions which bring it within the +category of slang, are of much later origin. The following quotation will illustrate +the usage in question, and further examples will be found under <span class="sc">had</span>, <span class="sc">shine</span>, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Hartford Post</i>, July 14. When the public have an opportunity of examining this beautiful steamer, +they will pronounce her the finest and most comfortable boat they have ever visited, +and be satisfied that she is <span class="sc">bound to shine</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boung.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bung</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boung-Nipper.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bung-nipper</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bounty-Jumper</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A term applied to men who, receiving a bounty when enlisting, desert, +re-enlist, and receive a second bounty. [From <span class="sc">bounty</span>, a gratuity given to recruits on joining the army or navy, + <span class="sc">jumper</span>, a slang term for one who decamps surreptitiously.] The War of the Rebellion is responsible +for this, as for many other colloquialisms. As the conflict lengthened out, men became +in great request, and large bounties were offered by the North for volunteers. This +bounty was found in many cases to be a direct incitement with unprincipled men to +bad faith and unfair dealing. Such would enlist, receive their bounty, join their +regiment, and then decamp, to reappear in another State, to go through the same performance. +Cases were known where this was done many times over, and the practice was called +<span class="sc">bounty-jumping</span>.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Jumping</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <span class="sc">Higginson</span>, <i>History of United States</i>, p. 306. Bringing into the service many <span class="sc">bounty-jumpers</span>, who enlisted merely for money, and soon deserted to enlist again. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb308">[<a href="#pb308">308</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit"><i lang="la">ante</i> 1880. <i>Song of the Bounty-Jumper</i> (quoted in Bartlett). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">My song is of a fast young man whose name was Billy Wires; </p> +<p class="line">He used to run with the machine, and go to all the fires: </p> +<p class="line">But as he lov’d a soldier’s life, and wished strange things to see, </p> +<p class="line">So the thought struck him that he would go and jump the <span class="sc">bounti-e</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bounty-Jumping</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—Obtaining a bounty by enlisting and then deserting. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bounty-jumper</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Illus. Lon. News</i>, May 14, 552, 1. In the Civil War in America between the Northern and Southern States, +<span class="sc">bounty-jumping</span>, or enlisting, and obtaining the bounty in several regiments, and then deserting, +rose to the dignity of a fine art. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bourbon</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—1. A Democrat of the straitest sect; a fire-eater. Applied, for the most +part, to the Southern Democrats of the old school. This use of the word probably ante-dates +the Civil War, but no instance of such use has been found in print. Bourbon County, +Kentucky, is popularly associated with this kind of Democrat, but we must look to +the old Bourbon party in France—uncompromising adherents of political tradition—for +its true paternity. +</p> +<p>2. A superior kind of whiskey; originally applied to that manufactured in Bourbon, +Kentucky. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bouse</b>, <b>Bowse</b>, <b>Booze</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. Applied to drink or liquor of any kind. In the sixteenth century <span class="sc">bouse</span> formed part of the cant of beggars and thieves; latterly the word, whether as substantive +or verb, has become colloquial. [Thought to be derived from the Dutch <i lang="nl">busen</i>, to drink to excess.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i> (1814), p. 65. <span class="sc">Bowse</span>, drinke. +</p> +<p class="cit">1610. <span class="sc">Rowlands</span>, <i>Martin Mark-all</i>, p. 37 (H. Club’s Repr., 1874). <span class="sc">Bowse</span>, drinke. +</p> +<p class="cit">1633. <span class="sc">Massinger</span>, <i>New Way to Pay Old Debts</i>, I., i. <i>Well.</i> No <span class="sc">bouse</span>? nor no tobacco? +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bouze</span>, etc., drink. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> As above. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—A drinking bout; a carouse. This sense is more frequently current than sense +1. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To drink to excess; to tipple; to ‘swill.’ Both this and the substantive seem to +have been known as early as 1300, but neither came into general use until the sixteenth +century, from which period both forms have become more and more colloquial. For synonyms, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Lush</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i>, p. 32. They bowle and <span class="sc">bowse</span> one to another, and for the tyme <span class="sc">bousing</span> belly chere. +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Pierce Penilesse</i>. Who surmise, if there were no playes, they should have all the companie that resort +to them bye <span class="sc">bowzing</span> and beere-bathing in their houses everie afternoone. +</p> +<p class="cit">1615. <span class="sc">Harington</span>, <i>Epigrams</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Yet such the fashion is of Bacchus crue </p> +<p class="line">To quaffe and <span class="sc">bowze</span>, until they belch and spue. </p> +<p class="line">Well, leave it, Marcus, else thy drinking health. </p> +<p class="line">Will prove an eating to thy wit and wealth. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">So also <span class="sc">bouser</span>, a toper; <span class="sc">bousing</span>, hard drinking; and <span class="sc">bousy</span>, intoxicated or ‘screwed.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Bouse the jib</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (nautical).—To tipple; to drink heavily.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Lush</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bousing Ken</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A tavern; inn; or drinking den; <span class="pageNum" id="pb309">[<a href="#pb309">309</a>]</span>now applied to a low public house. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Lush crib</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i>. <i>Man.</i> What, stowe your bene, cofe, and cut benat whydds, and byng we to rome vyle, to nyp +a bong; so shall we haue lowre for the <span class="sc">bousing ken</span>, and when we byng back to the deuseauyel, we wyll fylche some duddes of the Ruffemans, +or myll the ken for a bagge of dudes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1652. <span class="sc">Brome</span>, <i>Jovial Crew</i>, II., wks. (1873) III., 390 … As Tom or Tib When they at <span class="sc">bowsing ken</span> do swill. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress</i>, p. 27. But notwithstanding the Protean nature of the <i>Flash</i> or <i>Cant</i> language, the greater part of its vocabulary has remained unchanged for centuries, +and many of the words used by the Canting Beggars in Beaumont and Fletcher, and the +Gipsies in Ben Jonson’s Masque, are still to be heard among the <i>Gnostics</i> of Dyot-street and Tothill-fields. To <i>prig</i> is still to steal; to <i>fib</i>, to beat; <i>lour</i>, money; <i>duds</i>, clothes; <i>prancers</i>, horses; <span class="sc">bouzing-ken</span>, an alehouse; <i>cove</i>, a fellow; a <i>sou’s baby</i>, a pig, etc., etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bouzy.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Boozy</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bow.</b> <span class="sc">Two (or many) strings to one’s bow</span>, <i>phr.</i> (colloquial).—To have an alternative; more resources than one. The phrase sometimes +formerly ran <span class="sc">to have many strings to the bow</span>. Numerous figurative expressions in all languages indicate the dominant pursuits +of the respective nations; the English abounds in habitual phrases testifying to the +engrossing avocations in all times. It is in this manner that <span class="sc">to have two strings to one’s bow</span> has passed into proverbial usage. In the fourteenth century—a Frenchman, Gaston de +Foix, said of our ancestors, ‘Of <span class="sc">bows</span> I know not much, but who would know more, let him go to England, for that is truly +their business.’ In the olden time, archery, as the dominant pursuit, gave figures +of speech to the language—with the very pith of wisdom or Saxon sarcasm. If you made +an enemy’s machinations recoil upon himself, you ‘outshot a man in his own <span class="sc">bow</span>.’ If you are a cautious man, ‘Always have <span class="sc">two strings to your bow</span>,’ and ‘Get the shaft-hand of your adversaries,’ or ‘Draw not thy <span class="sc">bow</span> before thy arrow be fixed.’ Of course, if you can ‘Kill two birds with one shaft,’ +so much the better. Never ‘shoot wide of the mark’—that is, don’t make a foolish guess +on a subject you know nothing about. Of useless, silly conversation, our ancestors +said—‘The fool’s bolt is soon shot’; and if a man evidently exaggerated, he was said +to ‘draw a long <span class="sc">bow</span>.’ If a man’s pretensions were not in accordance with the facts of his case—in other +words, if he came under the category of ‘false pretences’—it was said that he ‘had +a famous <span class="sc">bow</span>, but it was up at the Castle.’ Vain military and other boasters were the many who +‘talked of Robin Hood, but who never shot his <span class="sc">bow</span>.’ ‘An archer is known by his aim, and not by his arrows’; that is, if you are not +answerable for your materials, at least show your skill in the <i lang="la">modus operandi</i>; or at all events, don’t depend entirely upon your tool. +</p> +<p class="cit">1562. <span class="sc">Heywood</span>, <i>Prov. and Epigr.</i> (1867), 30. <span class="sc">Ye have many stryngis to the bowe.</span> [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1588. <i>Marprelate’s Epistle</i>, p. 18 (ed. Arber). Doe you not thinke that I haue <span class="sc">two strings to my bow</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb310">[<a href="#pb310">310</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1606. <span class="sc">John Day</span>, <i>Isle of Gulls</i>, Act ii., Sc. 2, p. 39. A wise man’s <span class="sc">bow</span> goes with a <span class="sc">two-fold string</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Rod. Random</i>, ch. xvii. He was resolved to have <span class="sc">two strings to his bow</span>, that in case the one failed, he might use the other. +</p> +<p>(?) <span class="sc">T. Brown</span>, wks. IV., 115, ed. 1760. A man in Amsterdam is suffer’d to have but one religion, +whereas in London he may have <span class="sc">two strings to his bow</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <span class="sc">Mrs. Riddell</span>, <i>For Dick’s Sake</i>, ch. iv., p. 11 (S.P.C.K.). She had a <span class="sc">second string to her bow</span>, which suited her far better; and she sent Dick back his letters and his presents, +and a note beginning, ‘Dear sir,’ and ending ‘Yours truly.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To draw the long bow</span>, <i>phr.</i> (colloquial).—To exaggerate; to ‘gas’; to ‘talk up.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1819–24. <span class="sc">Byron</span>, <i>Don Juan</i>, xvi., 1. They … <span class="sc">draw the long bow</span> better now than ever. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To draw the bow up to the ear</span>, <i>phr.</i> (colloquial).—To do a thing with alacrity; ‘to put on full steam’; to exert oneself +to the utmost. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <i>Macmillan’s Mag.</i>, Feb., p. 258. So Miller, the coxswain, took to <span class="sc">drawing the bow up to the ear</span> at once. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bow-Catcher</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A kiss-curl. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Aggerawator</span>. [A corruption of ‘beau-catcher.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bell-rope</span>.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bowdlerize</b>, <i>verb</i> (colloquial).—To expurgate by removing offensive or questionable words from a book +or writing. [From Dr. T. Bowdler’s method in editing an edition of Shakspeare, in +which, to use his own words, ‘Those … expressions are omitted which cannot with propriety +be read aloud in a family.’] +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Gen. P. Thompson</span>, <i>Let. in Exerc.</i> (1842), IV., 124. Among the names … are many, like Hermes, Nereus, … which modern +ultra-christians would have thought formidably heathenish; while Epaphroditus and +Narcissus they would probably have <span class="sc">bowdlerized</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <i>Notes and Queries</i>, 4 S., vi., p. 47. No profane hand shall dare, for me, to curtail my Chaucer, to +<span class="sc">bowdlerise</span> my Shakspeare, or to mutilate my Milton. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">E. L. Linton</span>, <i>Patricia Kemball</i>, ch. iii. Her uncle had not made her read much beside the Bible and Shakspeare, which +last he had <span class="sc">bowdlerised</span> on his own account with a broad pen and very thick ink. +</p> +<p>From this comes <span class="sc">bowdlerization</span>, squeamish emasculation of a work; also <span class="sc">bowdlerizer</span>, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Westm. Review</i>, April, p. 583. The <span class="sc">bowdlerization</span> which the Editor has thought necessary is done in an exceedingly awkward and clumsy +fashion. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bower</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—A prison—a transferred usage of the orthodox word. For synonyms, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cage</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bowery Boy</b>, <b>Bowery Girl</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—The ’Arry and ’Arriet of New York of some years ago. The <span class="sc">Bowery</span> is a well known thoroughfare in the American metropolis. [Formerly spelt <i lang="nl">bouwerij</i>, and derived from <i lang="nl">bouw</i>, tillage, or <i lang="nl">bouwen</i>, to till, to cultivate, being equivalent to the modern Dutch word <i lang="nl">boerderij</i>, a farm, or the business of farming. The <span class="sc">Bowery</span> was the farm of Governor Stuyvesant.] <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blood tub</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bowlas</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Explained by quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. I., p. 208. <span class="sc">Bowlas</span>, or round tarts made of sugar, apple, and bread. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bowled</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (Winchester).—<span class="sc">Croppled</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +<span class="pageNum" id="pb311">[<a href="#pb311">311</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bowler.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Boler</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bowles</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Shoes. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Trotter-cases</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bowl Out</b>, <i>verb</i> (popular).—To overcome; to get the better of; to defeat. [Formerly a cricketing term—to +bowl a man out by displacing the bails.] <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bowl over</span>. Among thieves it signifies, in a transitive form, to be arrested or ‘lagged.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dictionary</i>. <span class="sc">Bowled out</span>, when he [a thief] is ultimately taken, tried, and convicted [he] is said <span class="sc">to be bowled out</span> at last. +</p> +<p class="cit">1817. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Rob Roy</i>, ch. iii. The polite and accomplished adventurer, who nicked you out of your money +at White’s, or <span class="sc">bowled you out of it</span> at Marybone. +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">F. E. Smedley</span>, <i>Lewis Arundel</i>, ch. xxiv. ‘He’s handsomer than you are; if you don’t mind your play, he’ll <span class="sc">bowl you out</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. ii., p. 121. Now and again a warder does get <span class="sc">bowled out</span>, and comes to grief. At the very least he loses his situation. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bowl Over</b>, <i>verb</i> (popular).—To defeat; to worst. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bowl out</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <i>Cornhill Mag.</i>, p. 729. You have <span class="sc">bowled me over</span>, and I know I can’t get up again. +</p> +<p class="cit">1878. <span class="sc">Stanley</span>, <i>Through the Dark Continent</i>, II., p. 291. I sent in a zinc bullet close to the ear, which <span class="sc">bowled</span> it [the rhinoceros] over, dead. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">A. Trollope</span>, <i>The Duke’s Children</i>, ch. xlvii. He confessed to himself that he was completely <span class="sc">bowled over</span>,—‘knocked off his pins!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bowl the Hoop</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming slang).—Soup. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bowman</b>, <i>adv.</i> (old).—<i>See</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Jack Sheppard</i> [1889], p. 11. Help! ejaculated Wood, renewing his cries. Arrest! Jigger closed! +shouted a hoarse voice in reply. All’s <span class="sc">bowman</span>, my covey. Fear nothing. We’ll be upon the ban-dogs before they can shake their trotters! +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bowse.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Booze</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bowsing Ken.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bousing ken</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bowsprit</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—The nose.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Boltsprit</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To have one’s bowsprit in parenthesis</span> is to have it pulled. ‘To have one’s head in Coventry’ will occur to mind as another +English slang phrase very similar in character. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bow-Window</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A stomach of large proportions. [A bay or <span class="sc">bow-window</span> is properly a curved window, hence the transference of the term to a big belly.] +Also <span class="sc">bow-windowed</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, big-bellied. +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Poor Jack</i>, ch. i. He was a very large man … with what is termed a considerable <span class="sc">bow-window</span> in front. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849–50. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Pendennis</i>, xxxiv. (1884), 334. Look at that very <span class="sc">bow-windowed man</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, May 6. She was what is vulgarly called <span class="sc">bow-windowed</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bow-Wow</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. A childish name for a dog. +</p> +<p class="cit">1800. <span class="sc">Cowper</span>, <i>Beau’s Reply</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Let my obedience then excuse </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">My disobedience now, </p> +<p class="line">Nor some reproof yourself refuse </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">From your aggrieved <span class="sc">bow-wow</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">18(?82). <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘I haven’t for a long time now.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">I used to have a sweetheart, once, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">A precious little pearl! </p> +<p class="line">Indeed she was—she really was, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">A very charming girl. </p> +</div> +<p><span class="pageNum" id="pb312">[<a href="#pb312">312</a>]</span></p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">I sang outside her door each night </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Till her father bought a big <span class="sc">bow-wow</span>, </p> +<p class="line">But I haven’t—haven’t— </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">I haven’t for a long time now! </p> +</div> +<p class="first">2. (old.)—A Bostonian—a term of contempt. +</p> +<p>3. (popular.)—A cavalier; lover; specially applied to a man who dangles after a woman. +Also <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Tame cat</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Chamb. Journal</i>, 12 March, p. 173. Mrs. Brittomart was one of those who never tolerated a <span class="sc">bow-wow</span>—a species of animal well known in India—and never went to the hills as a ‘grass-widow.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bow-Wow-Mutton</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Dog’s flesh. [From <span class="sc">bow-wow</span>, a humorous term for a dog, + <span class="sc">mutton</span>, here used generically for meat.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bow-Wow-Word</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A term applied sarcastically by Max Müller to words for which it is claimed +that they are in imitation of natural sounds, <i>i.e.</i>, <span class="corr" id="xd33e53884" title="Source: onamatopoetic">onomatopoetic</span> words, of which a full list will be found under <span class="sc">Cachunk</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bowyer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—One who draws a ‘long bow’; a dealer in the marvellous; a teller of improbable +stories; a liar.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Long bow</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Box</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A prison cell. +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Rookwood</i>, p. 89. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">In a <span class="sc">box</span> of the stone-jug I was born, </p> +<p class="line">Of a hempen widow the kid forlorn </p> +<p class="line xd33e53921">Fake away. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1878. <i>Notes and Queries</i>, 5 S., x., p. 214. The <span class="sc">box</span> in the stone-jug is doubtless a cell. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (Westminster School).—To take possession of; ‘to bag.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To be in a box</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To be cornered; in a fix; ‘stuck’ or ‘hung up.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To be in the wrong box</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (colloquial).—To be out of one’s element; to be in a false position; mistaken. Brewer +traces this to Lord Lyttelton, who, being of rather a melancholy disposition, used +to tell his friends that when he went to Vauxhall he was always supposing pleasure +to be in the next box to his, or at least that he himself was so unhappily situated +as always <span class="sc">to be in the wrong box</span> for it. The only objection to be raised to this story is that the phrase is a very +old one, of which the derivation is now lost. +</p> +<p class="cit">1554. <span class="sc">Ridley</span> (‘Foxe,’ 1838), vi., 438. Sir, quoth I, if you will hear how St. Augustine expoundeth +that place, you shall perceive that you are <span class="sc">in a wrong box</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1588. <span class="sc">J. Udall</span>, <i>Distrephes</i>, p. 31. I perceive that you and I are <span class="sc">in a wrong box</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1751. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Peregrine Pickle</i>, ch. xliii. ‘That, I grant you, must be confessed: doctor, I’m afraid we have got +<span class="sc">into the wrong box</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Midshipman Easy</i>, ch. x. ‘Take care your rights of man don’t get you <span class="sc">in the wrong box</span>—there’s no arguing on board of a man-of-war.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">On the box</span>, <i>phr.</i> (workmen’s).—A man when on strike and in receipt of strike pay is said to be <span class="sc">on the box</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Daily News</i>, 19 Nov., p. 6, col. 7. The ‘Blackleg’ Question Arising. As these have to be allowed +strike pay in order to keep them out of temptation, the number of men <span class="sc">on the box</span>, as they say in the North, may be taken to be a thousand. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Box Harry</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (commercial travellers’).—Among bag-men to take dinner and tea together; <span class="pageNum" id="pb313">[<a href="#pb313">313</a>]</span>‘dining out,’ <i>i.e.</i>, doing without a meal at all. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Box Hat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A silk hat. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cady</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Box-Irons</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Shoes. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Trotter-cases</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1789. <span class="sc">Geo. Parker</span>, <i>Life’s Painter</i>, p. 173. Shoes. <i>Hockey-dockies</i>, or <span class="sc">Box-irons</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Box of Dominoes</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (popular).—The mouth. [From <span class="sc">box + dominoes</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), a slang term for the teeth.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Potato-trap</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Box the Compass</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (nautical).—To repeat in succession, or irregularly, the thirty-two points of the +compass; beginners on accomplishing this feat are said to be able to <span class="sc">box the compass</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1751. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Peregrine Pickle</i>, ch. vi. ‘A light, good-humoured, sensible wench, who knows very well how to <span class="sc">box her compass</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1753. <span class="sc">Chambers</span>, <i>Cycl. Supp.</i> <span class="sc">Boxing</span>, among sailors, is used to denote the rehearsing the several points of the compass +in their proper order. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Midsh. Easy</i>, xviii. I can raise a perpendicular … and <span class="sc">box the compass</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1867. <span class="sc">Smyth</span>, <i>Sailors’ Word Book</i>. <span class="sc">To box the compass.</span> Not only to repeat the names of the thirty-two points in order and backwards, but +also to be able to answer any and all questions respecting its division. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Box the Jesuit</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (old).—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Cockroaches</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. Champagne. [A story, <i lang="it">ben trovato</i>, is told by the <i>Sporting Times</i> of June 30, 1882, as regards the origin of the phrase:—At a shooting party in Norfolk +once, a youth was told off to supply the company with champagne. The day being hot +and the sportsmen thirsty, cries of ‘Boy! Boy! Boy!’ were heard all day long. This +tickling the fancy of the royal and noble party, the term ‘<span class="sc">boy</span>’ became applied to champagne.] Also called <span class="sc">fiz</span> and <span class="sc">cham</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). The latter form is nearly reproduced in the French slang, <i lang="fr">le champ</i>; they also brutally speak of this wine as <i lang="fr">coco épileptique</i>, another epithet being <i lang="fr">cidre élégant.</i> +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Punch</i>, vol. LXXXII., p. 69, col. 2. ‘The fine young London Gentleman.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">He will say that port and sherry his nice palate always cloy; </p> +<p class="line">He’ll nothing drink but ‘B. and S.’ and big magnums of <span class="sc">the boy</span>; </p> +<p class="line">He’s the darling of the Barmaid, and the honest waiter’s joy, </p> +<p class="line">As he quaffs his Pommery ‘Extra Sec,’ his ‘Giesler’ or ‘Ivroy,’ </p> +<p class="line">Like a fine young London Gentleman, </p> +<p class="line">Quite of the present style. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1882. <i>Punch</i>, vol. LXXXII., p. 155, col. 1. Dined with Tom and Corky at a new place they had discovered, +and raved of. Of course, beastly dinner, but very good <span class="sc">boy</span>. Had two magnums of it. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Punch</i>, August 18, p. 84, col. 1. Shall it be B.-and-S., or bumpers of the <span class="sc">boy</span>? +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A hump on a man’s back. In low circles it is usual to speak of a humpbacked +man as two persons—‘him and his <span class="sc">boy</span>,’ and from this much coarse fun and personality are at times evolved. +</p> +<p>3. (Anglo-Indian and colonial.)—A servant of whatever age. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Old boy</span>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. A familiar term of address. <i>The</i> <span class="sc">old boy</span> is one’s father; the ‘guv’nor,’ or ‘boss.’ Sometimes <span class="sc">my boy</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb314">[<a href="#pb314">314</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1602. <span class="sc">Shaks.</span>, <i>Twel. N.</i>, ii., 4, 122. But di’de thy sister of her loue <span class="sc">my boy</span>? [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1740. <span class="sc">Richardson</span>, <i>Pamela</i>, III., 380. Never fear, <span class="sc">old boy</span>, said Sir Charles, we’ll bear our Parts in Conversation. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>2. The devil. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Skipper</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835–40. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span>, <i>Clockmaker</i>, (1862), 140. As we invigorate the form of government (as we must do, or go to the +<span class="sc">old boy</span>). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Yellow boy</span>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A guinea; also, one pound sterling. [From the colour.] As will be seen +the term is an old one. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Canary</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1663. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>Wild Gallant</i>, Act i. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">How now, <span class="sc">yellow boys</span>, by this good light! </p> +<p class="line">Sirrah, varlet, how came I by this gold? </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1712. <span class="sc">Arbuthnot</span>, <i>History of John Bull</i>, pt. I., ch. vi. There wanted not <span class="sc">yellow boys</span> to fee counsel, hire witnesses, and bribe juries. +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Old Curiosity Shop</i>, ch. xlii. ‘The delight of picking up the money—the bright, shining <span class="sc">yellow boys</span>—and sweeping ’em into one’s pocket!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Boys</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—This word is very generally in use in the plural. Thus, bookmakers speak +of their fellows, in the aggregate, as the <span class="sc">boys</span>; and it must be noted as a curious fact that on race-courses the whole army of the +swindling and thieving fraternity are so designated. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Angry</span> or <span class="sc">roaring boys</span>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A set of young <span class="sc">bucks</span>, <span class="sc">bloods</span> or <span class="sc">blades</span> (<i>q<span>.</span>v.</i>), of noisy manners and ‘fire-eating’ tastes. Nares says ‘like the <span class="sc">Mohawks</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>) described by the <i>Spectator</i>, they delighted to commit outrages and get into quarrels. Early mention is made of +such characters. Wilson, in his <i>Life of James I.</i> [1653], gives an account of their origin:—The king minding his sports, many riotous +demeanours crept into the kingdom; divers sects of vicious persons, going under the +title of <span class="sc">roaring boys</span>, bravadoes, roysterers, etc., commit many insolencies; the streets swarm, night and +day, with bloody quarrels, private duels fomented, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1599. <span class="sc">Greene</span>, <i lang="la">Tu<span id="xd33e54351"></span> Quoque</i>, Old Plays, vii., 25. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">This is no <span class="sc">angry</span>, nor no <span class="sc">roaring boy</span>, but a blustering boy. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1609. <span class="sc">Ben Jonson</span>, <i>Epicœne</i>, i., 4. The doubtfulness of your phrase, believe it, sir, would breed you a quarrel +once an hour with the <span class="sc">terrible boys</span>, if you should but keep ’em fellowship a day. +</p> +<p class="cit">1610. <span class="sc">Ben Jonson</span>, <i>Alchemist</i>, iii., 4. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Sir, not so young, but I have heard some speech </p> +<p class="line">Of the <span class="sc">angry boys</span>, and seen ’em take tobacco. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1616. <span class="sc">Beaumont and Fletcher</span>, <i>Scornful Lady</i>, iv., 1. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Get thee another nose, that will be pull’d </p> +<p class="line">Off, by the <span class="sc">angry boys</span>, for thy conversion. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Boys of the Holy Ground</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—Formerly [1800–25] bands of roughs infesting a well-known region in St. Giles.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Holy Land</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress</i>, p. 7. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">For we are the <span class="sc">boys of the holy ground</span>, </p> +<p class="line">And we’ll dance upon nothing and turn us round. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Brace</b>, <i>verb</i> (American thieves’).—To get credit by swagger. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Brace it through</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—To succeed by dint of sheer impudence. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Brace up</span>, ‘to gird oneself up,’ ‘to buckle to.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bracelets</b>, <i>subs.</i> (familiar).—Handcuffs; fetters for the wrist. [Derivation obvious.] <span class="pageNum" id="pb315">[<a href="#pb315">315</a>]</span>French thieves call them <i lang="fr">les alliances</i>, properly ‘wedding rings’; also <i lang="fr">la tartouve</i> and <i lang="fr">les lacets</i>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Darbies</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1661. <i>Wit and Drollery</i>, quoted in Disraeli <i>Cur. of Wit</i>. (Tom O’Bedlams.) [Fetters are called <span class="sc">bracelets</span> in a song in this work.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>English Rogue</i>, pt. I., ch. lv., p. 371 (1874). Fetters confined my legs from stragling, and <span class="sc">bracelets</span> were clapt upon my arms. +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Jack Sheppard</i> (1889), p. 62. ‘Thank you—thank you!’ faltered Jack, in a voice full of emotion. +‘I’ll soon free you from these <span class="sc">bracelets</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">W. H. Ainsworth</span>, <i>James the Second</i>, bk. I., ch. ii. ‘It may be, young squire, you’ll have to go … with a pair of <span class="sc">bracelets</span> on your wrists, and pay your next reck’nin’ to the gov’nor of Newgate.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. v., p. 359. He travels with other people who are also bound to London, and who, +seeing him handcuffed, know very well his steel <span class="sc">bracelets</span> are not the insignia of honour. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brace of Shakes</b>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—In a moment; ‘jiffy’; ‘twinkling of an eye,’ etc.—<i>See</i>, however, <span class="sc">Shakes</span>. The expression is sometimes <span class="sc">a couple</span>, instead of <span class="sc">a brace of shakes</span>. A French equivalent is <i>far-far</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham, I. L.</span> (<i>Babes in the Wood</i>). I’ll be back in a <span class="sc">couple of shakes</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Ouida</span>, <i>Under Two Flags</i>, ch. xii. ‘But I’ve a trick with a ’oss that’ll set that sort o’ thing—if it ain’t +gone too far, that is to say—right in a <span class="sc">brace of shakes</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Cornhill Mag.</i>, Jan., p. 101. ‘If there were any boys at Oppingbury now like those who were here +when I was young, they’d break the window in a <span class="sc">couple of shakes</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brace Up</b>, <i>verb</i> (thieves’).—1. To pawn stolen goods—generally to their utmost value. +</p> +<p>2. (American.)—To take a drink. [A transferred sense; from <span class="sc">brace-up</span> = to string up; to give firmness to.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Puck’s Library</i>, Ap., p. 20. Come old boy, let’s <span class="sc">brace up</span>; a bumper will pull you together again. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bracket-Faced</b>, <i>adj.</i> (old).—Ugly; hard-featured.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bracket-Mug</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—An ugly face. [From <span class="sc">bracket</span> (<i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bracket-faced</span>) + <span class="sc">mug</span>, a slang term for the face.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Hatchet-face</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brads</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A generic term for money. De Vaux (<i>see</i> quot.), though somewhat limiting the meaning, uses the term elsewhere as equivalent +to ‘pence’ or ‘coppers.’ It possibly originated among shoemakers, <span class="sc">brads</span> being small rivets or nails largely employed by them. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Horse-nails</span>, and for synonyms, <span class="sc">Actual</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dict.</i> <span class="sc">Brads</span>, halfpence; also money in general. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <i>Punch</i>, XXIX., 10. [<i>Cf.</i>, Punch’s suggestion for a ‘fast’ partner in banks who should enquire of customers] +‘Will you take it in flimsies, or will you have it all in tin? Come, look sharp, my +downy one, and I’ll fork out the <span class="sc">brads</span> like bricksy wicksy.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Brewer</span>, <i>Phrase and Fable</i>, s.v. ‘B Flats.’ <i>Four B’s, essential for social success.</i>—Blood, brains, brass, <span class="sc">brads</span> [money].—<i>American.</i> +</p> +<p class="cit">1888–9. <span class="sc">Payne</span>, <i>Eavesdropper</i>, pt. II., ch. ii. They used such funny terms: ‘<span class="sc">brads</span>’ and ‘dibbs’ … at last it was borne in upon me that they were talking about money. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Tip the brads</span>.—<i>See</i> quotation and <span class="sc">Tip</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act i., Sc. 4. [To] <span class="sc">tip the brads</span>—and down with the dust, is to be at <span class="pageNum" id="pb316">[<a href="#pb316">316</a>]</span>once good, great, handsome, accomplished, and everything that’s desirable—money, money, +is your universal good,—only get into Tip Street, Jerry. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brag</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A usurer; a Jew. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Sixty-per-cent.</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Braggadocia</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—This is explained in Dickens’ <i>Reprinted Pieces</i> (in a footnote) to mean three months’ imprisonment as reputed thieves. It is difficult +to trace the connection between this and the ordinary meaning of <span class="sc">braggadocio</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Reprinted Pieces</i> (<i>Three ‘Detective’ Anecdotes</i>, <i>The Artful Touch</i>), p. 253. ‘We don’t take much by this move, anyway, for nothing’s found upon ’em, +and it’s only the <span class="sc">braggadocia</span> after all.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brain Pan</b>, <i>subs.</i> (sporting).—1. The skull, or skull-cap. Also called <span class="sc">brain-canister</span>. Hotten quotes the term as of pugilistic origin, but it ante-dates the palmy days +of the ‘Fancy’ by many years. <span class="sc">Brain pan</span> in this sense can, perhaps, hardly be classed as slang; not so, however, sense 2. +The Scotch equivalent is <span class="sc">harn-pan</span>.—<i>See</i> quotations under sense 2. +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—The head itself. For general synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Chump</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>b.</i> 1529. <span class="sc">Skelton</span>, <i>Elynoor Rommin</i>, in <i>Hart. Misc.</i> (ed. Park), I., 417. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Upon her <span class="sc">brain pan</span> </p> +<p class="line">Like an Egyptian </p> +<p class="line">Capped about. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1608. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Belman of London</i>, in wks. (Grosart) III., 91. The spirit of her owne malt walkt in her <span class="sc">brayne pan</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1609. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Gul’s Hornbook</i>, Prœmium. <i>Tarleton</i>, <i>Kemp</i>, nor <i>Singer</i> … never played the clownes more naturally then the arrantest Sot of you all shall +if hee will but boyle my Instructions in his <span class="sc">braine-pan</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1622. <span class="sc">Massinger</span>, <i>Virgin-Martyr</i>, ii., 2. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Oh, sir, his <span class="sc">brain-pan</span> is a bed of snakes, </p> +<p class="line">Whose sting shoots through his eye-balls. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1817. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Rob Roy</i>, ch. xxxiii. ‘Weize a brace of balls through his <span class="sc">harn-pan</span>!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. xi. ‘Were I your master, sirrah, … I would make your <span class="sc">brain-pan</span>, as you call it, boil over, were you to speak a word in my presence before you were +spoken to.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bramble</b>, <i>subs.</i> (provincial slang).—In Kent a lawyer is so called; obviously a sarcastic allusion +to the ‘tangles’ of the law. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bramble-Gelder</b> (provincial slang).—A derisive appellation for an agriculturist; a Suffolk term. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bran</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A loaf. [In all likelihood this is a mere abbreviation of <span class="sc">bran-loaf</span>.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Tommy</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Oliver Twist</i>, ch. viii. He purchased a sufficiency of ready-dressed ham and a half-quartern loaf, +or, as he himself expressed it, ‘a fourpenny <span class="sc">bran</span>!’ <i>Ibid</i>, p. 306. Two half-quartern <span class="sc">brans</span>, pound of best fresh. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Branded Ticket</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—Admiral Smyth [1867] quotes this as ‘a discharge given to an infamous +man, on which his character is given, and the reason he is turned out of the service.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brandy Face</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A tippler; a drunkard, especially one whose favourite drink is brandy. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>a.</i> 1687. <span class="sc">Cotton</span>, <i>Æneid, II. Burl.</i> (1692), 85. You goodman <span class="sc">brandy-face</span>, unfist her. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb317">[<a href="#pb317">317</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Brandy-Faced</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (general).—Red-faced; bloated. [A reference to the effects upon the physiognomy of +excessive indulgence in intoxicating drinks.] The expression is mentioned by Grose +as early as 1785, but it is probably still older, for <i>see</i> quotation under <span class="sc">brandy-face</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">G. A. Sala</span>, <i>Tw. Round Clock</i>, 284. Hulking labourers and <span class="sc">brandy-faced</span> viragos, squabbling at tavern doors. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brandy is Latin for Goose</b> or <b>For Fish</b>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—This punning vulgarism appears first in Swift’s <i>Polite Conversation</i>, and Brewer thus states the philological equation. +</p> +<p class="cit"><span class="sc">What is the Latin for Goose?</span> (Answer) <span class="sc">Brandy</span>. The pun is on the word answer. <i>Anser</i> is the Latin for goose, which brandy follows as surely and quickly as an answer follows +a question. +</p> +<p class="cit">1738. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Polite Conversation</i> (conv. ii.). <i>Lord Sm.</i> Well, but after all, Tom, can you tell me what’s Latin for a goose? <i>Nev.</i> O my lord, I know that; Why, <span class="sc">brandy is Latin for a goose</span>, and <i>Tace</i> is Latin for a candle. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Jacob Faithful</i>, ch. xi. ‘Art thou forward in thy learning? Canst thou tell me <span class="sc">Latin for goose</span>?’ ‘To be sure,’ replied Tom, ‘<span class="sc">brandy</span>.’ +</p> +<p>As regards the second form, namely, <span class="sc">brandy is Latin for fish</span>, the origin is more obscure, although it is to some extent explained in the following +quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, I., 125. We are told that the thirst and uneasy feeling at the stomach, frequently +experienced after the use of the richer species of fish, have led to the employment +of spirit to this kind of food. Hence, says Dr. Pereira, the vulgar proverb, <span class="sc">brandy is Latin for fish</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brandy Pawnee</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Anglo-Indian).—Brandy and water. [From <span class="sc">brandy</span> + Hindustan <i>pānī</i>, water. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Parney</span>, also a slang term for water.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1816. <span class="sc">Quiz</span>, <i>Grand Master</i>, pref. And died at last with <span class="sc">brandy pauny</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Newcomes</i>, ch. i. ‘I’m sorry to see you, gentlemen, drinking <span class="sc">brandy-pawnee</span>,’ says he; ‘it plays the deuce with our youngest men in India.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">W. H. Russell</span>, <i>My Diary in India</i>, I., p. 120. They had tiffin at two; hot lunch and ale and <span class="sc">brandy-pawnee</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brandy Smash</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—An American drink concocted of brandy and crushed ice. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Drinks</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <span class="sc">E. MacDermott</span>, <i>Popular Guide to International Exhibition</i>, 1862, p. 185. In the vestibule of each refreshment room there is an American bar, +where visitors may indulge in ‘juleps,’ ‘cocktails,’ ‘cobblers,’ ‘rattlesnakes,’ ‘gum-ticklers,’ +‘eye-openers,’ ‘flashes-o’-lightning,’ <span class="sc">brandy-smashes</span>, ‘stone-fences,’ and a variety of similar beverages. +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <span class="sc">S. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>Innocents Abroad</i>. We procured the services of a gentleman experienced in the nomenclature of the American +bar … a bowing, aproned Frenchman stepped forward and said <i lang="fr">Que veulent les messieurs?</i> Our general said (after naming several other drinks) give us a <span class="sc">brandy smash</span>; the Frenchman began to back away suspicious of the ominous vigour of the last order. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, 2 July, p. 5, col. 3. [<span class="sc">Brandy-smash</span> is mentioned in a list of American drinks.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>New York Evening Post</i>, 24 Feb. Philological.—Gallic Tourist—‘I do not see how any one ever learns the absurd +English. I read on the menu of drinks, ‘Sherree Cobblair,’ I find in the dictionary—a +mender of shoes of sherry wine; ‘Santa Cruz Sour,’ <i lang="fr">La Sainte Croix acide</i>; <span class="sc">brandy smash</span>, ‘<i lang="fr">Eau de vie écrasé</i>.’ <i lang="fr">Bête de langue!</i><span>’</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bran-Mash</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—Bread sopped in coffee or tea. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Floating batteries</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb318">[<a href="#pb318">318</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Brass</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. Impudence; effrontery; <span class="sc">brass</span> being a type of unblushing hardness, shamelessness, etc. This colloquialism is by +no means of yesterday, having been used by Shakspeare. Sometimes rendered <span class="sc">bold as brass</span>. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Cheek</span>, which also <i>see</i> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="cit">1594. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Love’s Labour Lost</i>, v., 2, 395. <i>Biron.</i> Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury. Can any face of <span class="sc">brass</span> hold longer out? +</p> +<p class="cit">1701. <span class="sc">Defoe</span>, <i>True Born Englishman</i>, pt. II. By my Old Friend [The Devil], who printed in my face A needful competence +of English <span class="sc">brass</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1703. <span class="sc">Farquhar</span>, <i>Inconstant</i>, Act i., Sc. 2. Thou hast impudence to set a good face upon anything; I would change +half my gold for half thy <span class="sc">brass</span>, with all my heart. +</p> +<p class="cit">1740. <span class="sc">North</span>, <i>Examen</i>, p. 256. She in her defence made him appear such a rogue upon record, that the Chief +Justice wondered he had the <span class="sc">brass</span> to appear in a court of justice. +</p> +<p class="cit">1773. <span class="sc">O. Goldsmith</span>, <i>She Stoops to Conquer</i>, Act iii., Sc. 1. ‘To me he appears the most impudent piece of <span class="sc">brass</span> that ever spoke with a tongue.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress</i>, p. 68. Oh, what a face of <span class="sc">brass</span> was his, Who first at Congress show’d his phyz. +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Bleak House</i>, ch. lv., p. 462. ‘I haven’t <span class="sc">brass</span> enough in my composition, to see him in this place and under this charge.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. H. Wall</span>, trans. <i>Molière</i>, vol. I., p. 18. Gorgibus is a simpleton, a boor, who will readily believe everything +you say, provided … you have <span class="sc">brass</span> enough. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 199. He started with a lot of tin, but had not sufficient <span class="sc">brass</span> or <i>physique</i> to stand the wear-and-tear of the life. +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A generic term for money. At one time money was made of brass, hence +probably the slang usage. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Tin</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1526. <span class="sc">Tyndale</span>, <i>Matt.</i> x., 9. Posses not golde, nor silver, nor <span class="sc">brasse</span> yn youre gerdels. +</p> +<p class="cit">1597. <span class="sc">Hall</span>, <i>Satires</i>, IV., v., 12. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Hirelings enow beside can be so base, </p> +<p class="line">Tho’ we should scorn each bribing varlet’s <span class="sc">brass</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1860. <span class="sc">Mrs. Gaskell</span>, <i>Sylvia’s Lovers</i>, ch. xx. ‘There’ll be Fosters i’ th’ background, as one may say, to take t’ biggest +share on t’ profits,’ said Bell. ‘Ay, ay, that’s but as it should be, for I reckon +they’ll ha’ to find the <span class="sc">brass</span> the first.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">M. E. Braddon</span>, <i>Aurora Floyd</i>, ch. xii. ‘Steeve’s a little too fond of the <span class="sc">brass</span> to murder any of you for nothing.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">Hawley Smart</span>, <i>From Post to Finish</i>, p. 129. ‘It’s noa use they’re telling us afterwards they ain’t collared the <span class="sc">brass</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Sporting Times</i>, June 29. <i>Billy Wells.</i> What the dickens is all this about the hats? We have seventy-two telegrams and letters +on the subject, and would prefer the <span class="sc">brass</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brass-Bound and Copper Fastened</b>, <i>adj. phr.</i> (nautical).—Said of a lad dressed in a midshipman’s uniform.—<i>W. Clark Russell.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brass-Bounder</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—A midshipman. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brasser</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Christ’s Hospital).—A bully. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brass Farthing</b> or <b>Farde</b>.—The lowest limit of value.—<i>See</i> quots. +</p> +<p class="cit">1642. <span class="sc">Rogers</span>, <i>Naaman</i>, 33. As bare and beggarly as if he had not one <span class="sc">brasse farthing</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Punch’s Almanac</i>, p. 5. Nobby button’-oler very well When one wants to do the ’eavy swell; Otherwise +don’t care not one <span class="sc">brass farden</span>, For the best ever blowed in Covent Garden. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Besant and Rice</span>, <i>Seamy Side</i>, x., 78. I care not one <span class="sc">brass farthing</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb319">[<a href="#pb319">319</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Brass Knocker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vagrants’).—Broken victuals; the remains of a meal. Specially applied by beggars +to the scraps often bestowed upon them in place of money. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brass-Plate Merchant</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Explained by quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, II., p. 95. The <span class="sc">brass-plate merchant</span>, as he is called in the trade, being a person who merely procures orders for coal, +gets some merchant who buys in the coal-market to execute them in his name, and manages +to make a living by the profits of these transactions. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brassy</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Impudent; impertinent; shameless. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Brass</span>, sense 1. +</p> +<p class="cit">1570–76. <span class="sc">Lambarde</span>, <i>Peramb. Kent</i> (1826), 156. To make them blush … were they never so <span class="sc">brassie</span> and impudent. +</p> +<p class="cit">1661. <span class="sc">T. Middleton</span>, <i>Mayor of Quinborough</i>, iii., 1. There’s no gallant so <span class="sc">brassy</span> impudent durst undertake the words that shall belong to’t. +</p> +<p class="cit">1738–1819. <span class="sc">Wolcot</span>, <i>P. Pindar</i>, p. 73, ed. 1830. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">No. Mr. Gattle—Betty was too <span class="sc">brassy</span>, </p> +<p class="line">We never keep a servant that is saucy. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1862. <span class="sc">Mrs. H. Wood</span>, <i>Channings</i>, ch. xxxii. ‘I asked him to leave his name, sir, and he said Mr. Rowland Yorke knew +his name quite well enough without having it left for him.’ ‘As <span class="sc">brassy</span> as that was he! I wish to goodness it was the fashion to have a cistern in your house +roofs’! +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brazen-Faced</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (common).—Shameless; impudent; unblushing. With a face as of brass, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Brass</span>. Hotten remarks that such a person is sometimes said to have had his face rubbed +with a brass candle-stick. +</p> +<p class="cit">1571. <span class="sc">Golding</span>, <i>Calvin on Ps.</i>, xii., 5. With such <span class="sc">brazenfaste</span> baldnesse. +</p> +<p class="cit">1596. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Saffron Walden</i>, in wks. III., 84. Amidst his impudent <span class="sc">brazen-fac’d</span> defamation of Doctor <i>Ferne</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1693. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>Juvenal</i>, III., 133. Quick-witted, <span class="sc">brazen-fac’d</span>, with fluent tongues. +</p> +<p class="cit">1714. <i>Memoirs of John Hall</i> (4 ed.), p. 10. Thus with an unparallell’d Impudence every <span class="sc">brazen-fac’d</span> Malefactor is harden’d in his Sin. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">Mrs. H. Wood</span>, <i>Johnny Ludlow</i>, 1 S., viii., p. 137. ‘Of all the impudent <span class="sc">brazen-faced</span> rascals that are cheating the gallows, you must be the worst.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bread</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Employment; a transferred sense, the idea being—no work; no food. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. Out of <span class="sc">bread</span>, out of employment. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bread and Butter Fashion</b>, <i>phr.</i> (harlotry).—An expression descriptive of the sexual embrace. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bread and Butter Warehouse</b>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—A nickname given to the old Ranelagh Gardens. An allusion to the scenes of +infamy and debauchery which once characterized the place.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bread and butter fashion</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bread and Meat</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (military).—The commissariat. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bread Bags</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—A nickname given in the army and navy to any one connected with the victualling +department, as a purser or purveyor in the commissariat. At one time called <span class="sc">muckers</span>, and amongst French soldiers <i lang="fr">riz-pain-sel</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bread-Barge</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—The distributing basket or tray containing the rations of biscuits. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb320">[<a href="#pb320">320</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bread-Basket</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—The stomach. [An obvious allusion to that part of the body as a receptacle +of food.] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> Bread-room; dumpling-depôt; victualling-office; porridge-bowl. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">La panetière</i> (common: properly a bag or satchel wherein shepherds put their bread; a pouch. Akin +to this is the slang term <i lang="fr">la pantière</i>, the mouth); <i lang="fr">panier au pain</i> (a literal translation of the English term); <i lang="fr">le jabot</i> (popular: formerly heart or breast. <i lang="fr">Se remplir le jabot</i> = to have a ‘blow out’); <i lang="fr">la halle aux croûtes</i> (popular: this may be rendered literally as ‘Crust’ hall; also, a baker’s shop); +<i lang="fr">la place d’armes</i> (popular: the place of arms, stronghold or arsenal); <i lang="fr">la soute au pain</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">soute</i> = store-room, etc.; thus, the expression would correspond closely to victualling +office or <span class="sc">bread-basket</span>. ‘Put that in your <span class="sc">bread-basket</span>’ is rendered by <i lang="fr">colle-toi ça dans le Fusil</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘ram that in your gun’). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Italian Synonym.</span> The Fourbesque has <i lang="it">fagiana</i> (properly a chest or store house for beans.) +</p> +<p class="cit">1753. <span class="sc">Foote</span>, <i>Englishman in Paris</i>, Act 1. Another came up to second time, but I let drive at the mark, made the soup-maigre +rumble in his <span class="sc">bread-basket</span>, and laid him sprawling. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress</i>, p. 18. Neat <i>milling</i> this Round—what with <i>clouts</i> on the <i>nob</i>, <i>Home hits</i> in the <span class="sc">bread-basket</span>, <i>clicks</i> in the <i>gob</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act iii., Sc. 1. <i>Jerry.</i> Now, doctor, take care of your <span class="sc">bread-basket</span>—eyes right, look to your napper. +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">Reade</span>, <i>Never too Late to Mend</i>, ch. lxx. When you can’t fill the <span class="sc">bread-basket</span>, shut it. Go to sleep till the Southern Cross comes out again. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. H. Wall</span>, trans. <i>Molière</i>, vol. I., p. 194. And get as a reward an ugly piece of cold steel right through my +<span class="sc">bread-basket</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bread-Picker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—The four senior præfects used to appoint ‘Juniors’ to this +office which was nominal, but which carried with it exemption from fagging at meal +times. No ‘notion’ book states in what the office consisted, but it is supposed that +it relates to times when Juniors had to secure the bread, etc., served out for their +masters. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bread-Room</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The stomach. A variant of <span class="sc">bread-basket</span>, which <i>see</i> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="cit">1760–61. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Sir L. Greaves</i>, vol. II., ch. v. He ordered the waiter … to … bring along-side a short allowance +of brandy or grog, that he might cant a slug [dram] into his <span class="sc">bread-room</span>. <i>Ibid</i>, ch. xvii. The waiter … returned with a quartern of brandy, which Crowe, snatching +eagerly, started into his <span class="sc">bread-room</span> at one cant. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bread-Room Jack</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—A purser’s servant. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Break</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A collection (of money) usually got up by a prisoner’s friends, either +to defray the expenses of his defence, or as a ‘lift’ when leaving prison. Formerly +and more generally applied to a pause in street performances to enable the hat to +be passed round. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Lead</span>. French slang has <i lang="fr">une bouline</i> with the same meaning; and, to make a collection is, among mountebanks, <i lang="fr">faire la manche</i>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb321">[<a href="#pb321">321</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">J. W. Horsley</span>, in <i>Macm. Mag.</i>, XL., 502. The mob got me up a <span class="sc">break</span> (collection), and I got between five or six foont (sovereigns). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Break Down</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Australian).—1. A measure of liquor.—<i>See</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1759. <span class="sc">Frank Fowler</span>, <i>Southern Lights and Shadows</i>, p. 53. To pay for liquor for another is to ‘stand,’ or to ‘shout,’ or to ‘sacrifice.’ +The measure is called a ‘nobbler,’ or a <span class="sc">break-down</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A noisy dance; also, a convivial gathering. The term was, at first, specially +applied to a negro dance, but is now in general use in England in a humorous sense. +Also used as a verb, <i>i.e.</i>, <span class="sc">to break down</span>, to dance riotously; to be boisterous and ‘spreeish.’ For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Flare up</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">Yates</span>, <i>Broken to Harness</i>, II., p. 54. And Mr. Pingle retired into the next room, where he indulged in the +steps of a comic dance popular with burlesque actors, and known as a nigger <span class="sc">break-down</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1873. <i>Sat. Review</i>, May, p. 676. We shall not be surprised to learn that they have serious thoughts +of engaging a few comic singers and <span class="sc">break-down</span> dancers for their next campaign. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily News</i>, March 26, p. 2, col. 4. A patter song … was twice redemanded, chiefly, it appeared, +for the sake of a comical ‘<span class="sc">break-down</span>’ danced by the demented king. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Break o’ Day Drum</b> (American thieves’).—A drinking saloon which keeps its doors open all night. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Break One’s Back</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (colloquial).—To become bankrupt; an extension of the figurative usage to overpower; +render nugatory; crush. +</p> +<p class="cit">1601. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Henry VIII.</i>, Act i., Sc. 1. <i>Aber.</i> I do know Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have By this so sicken’d their +estates, that never They shall abound as formerly. <i>Buck.</i> O, many Have <span class="sc">broke their backs</span> with laying manors on ’em For this great journey. +</p> +<p class="cit">1620. <span class="sc">Middleton</span>, <i>Chaste Maid</i>, iii., 2. [The word is here used in the sense of bankruptcy and ruin.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <span class="sc">Baring Gould</span>, <i>The Game-cocks</i>, ch. xxviii. ‘They are very poor, and have made a hard fight to get on. I fear this +change would <span class="sc">break their backs</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <span class="sc">Ashton</span>, <i>Mod. Street Ballads</i>, p. 13. The cesses, rates, and tithes nearly <span class="sc">breaks their backs</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Break One’s Egg.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Crack one’s egg</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Break Out All Over</b> or <b>In a Fresh Spot, etc.</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (American).—Expressions in common use—in the one case conveying an idea of completeness; +and, in the other, of commencing some new undertaking, or assuming a different position +whether in an argument or action. These usages may be traced to the phraseology of +medicine. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Break Shins</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (general).—To borrow money. Hotten thinks the term is a variant of ‘to kick,’ formerly +in use with a similar meaning. This may be so, but it is worthy of note that ‘to shin’ +is colloquial in America in the sense of ‘to walk quickly,’ ‘to gad about’; but having +particular reference also, in mercantile phraseology, to the action of a man who, +finding himself short of money to meet his engagements, goes round to his friends +to borrow what he requires. <span class="sc">To bite the ear</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) has the same signification; but for synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Shins</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb322">[<a href="#pb322">322</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Break the Balls</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (billiards).—To commence playing; a phrase very much akin to ‘breaking ground’; indeed +few verbs enter more largely into figurative or colloquial combinations than <span class="sc">break</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Break the Molasses Jug</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (American).—To come to grief; to make a mistake. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Break the Neck</b> or <b>Back of Anything</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (common).—To accomplish the major portion of a task; to be near the end of an undertaking; +to be past the middle of same. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Breaky-Leg</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. Intoxicating drink of any kind. [A humorous allusion to one of the possible +effects of confirmed drunkenness, or the weakness produced in one’s legs by tippling.] +For all synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (thieves’.)—A shilling. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Snowden</span>, <i>Mag. Assistant</i>, 3 ed., p. 446. A shilling. <span class="sc">Breake-leg</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Breast Fleet</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Roman Catholics; so called from their practice of crossing themselves on the +breast as an act of devotion. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue.</i> He (or she) belongs to the <span class="sc">breast fleet</span>; i.e., is a Roman Catholic; an appellation derived from their custom of beating their +breasts in the confession of their sins. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Breath.</b> <span class="sc">Change your breath</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—An injunction to adopt a different manner or bearing. An offensive, slang +expression which, originating in California, quickly ran its course through the Union. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Breech</b>, <i>verb</i> (schoolboys’).—To flog or be flogged; especially on the posteriors. This verb was +formerly in literary use, but has now fallen into disuetude. +</p> +<p class="cit">1557. <span class="sc">Tusser</span>, <i>Husbandrie</i>, ch. lxxiv., st. 6, p. 166 (S.D.S.). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Maides, up I beseech yee </p> +<p class="line">Least Mistres doe <span class="sc">breech</span> yee. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1637. <span class="sc">Massinger</span>, <i>Guardian</i>, i., 1. How he looks! like a school-boy that had play’d the truant, And went to be +<span class="sc">breech’d</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Kenilworth</i>, ch. xxiv. ‘Go to,’ said Wayland, ‘thou art a prating boy, and should be <span class="sc">breeched</span> for thine assurance.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Breeched</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (popular).—1. To be well off; to have plenty of money; ‘to be well <span class="sc">breeched</span>,’ to be in good circumstances. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Ballasted</span>. The French have a similar idiom. If a man is bankrupt he is said to be <i lang="fr">déculotté</i>—unbreeched. Given in this sense by Vaux in his <i>Flash Dictionary</i> [1812]. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Breeches.</b> <span class="sc">To wear the breeches</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—A phrase said only of women; and signifying to rule; to usurp a husband’s +prerogative; to be ‘master.’ An analogous phrase is ‘the grey mare is the better horse +of the two.’ [The derivation is obviously an allusion to <span class="sc">breeches</span> as the symbol of authority, <i>i.e.</i>, of manhood.] Murray traces the expression back to 1553, but it is, in reality, much +older. It is found in French as early as 1450. +</p> +<p lang="fr" class="cit">1450. <i>Les Quinze Joyes de Mariage: La Dixiesme Joye.</i> Edition Elzevirienne, Paris (1853), p. 113. Et sachez qu’il est avenu à aucuns que +l’en leur faisoit boire de mauvès brouez affin de porter les braies ou pour autres +choses pires. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb323">[<a href="#pb323">323</a>]</span></p> +<p>The idea is met with in English at about the same date in a carol, the burden of which +is founded on it:— +</p> +<p class="cit">14(?). <i>Songs and Carols of the Fifteenth Century</i>, Percy Soc. Pub., vol. XXIII., p. 65. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Nova, nova, sawe you ever such, </p> +<p class="line">The moste mayster of the hows <span class="sc">weryth no brych</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">Also a little later, from the same collection:— +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>The Boke of Maid Emlyn</i>, vol. VI., p. 21. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line xd33e24230">All women be suche, </p> +<p class="line">Thoughe the man <span class="sc">wear the breche</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">It is curious to note also that the expression has cropped up in most languages. The +Dutch say, ‘<i lang="nl">De vrouw <span class="corr" id="xd33e56069" title="Source: draagd’er">draagt ’er</span> de broek</i>’; the Germans, ‘<i lang="de">Sie hat die Hosen</i>.’ The Germans have also other ‘breeches’ sayings; as <i>e.g.</i>, ‘<i lang="de">Das Hertz ist ihm in die Hosen gefallen</i>.’ Other illustrative quotations are:— +</p> +<p class="cit">1557. <span class="sc">Tusser</span>, <i>Husbandrie</i>, ch. lxvii. st. 18, 156 (E.D.S.). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Least some should talke, as is the speech, </p> +<p class="line">The good wiues’ husband <span class="sc">weares no breech</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1591. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>A Prognostication</i>, in wks. II., 158. Diverse great stormes are this yere to be feared, especially in +houses where the wives <span class="sc">weare the breeches</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1663. <span class="sc">T. Killigrew</span>, <i>Parson’s Wedding</i>, ii., 3, in Dodsley’s <i>O. P.</i> (1780), xi., 413. Anything that may get rule; I love to <span class="sc">wear the breeches</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1724. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Misc. Poems</i>, in wks. (1824) XIV., 199. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Those men, who <span class="sc">wore the breeches</span> least, </p> +<p class="line">Call’d him a cuckold, fool, and beast. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1820. <span class="sc">Coombe</span>, <i>Syntax, Consolation</i>, ch. v. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">When she doth <span class="sc">wear the breeches</span>; </p> +<p class="line">And the poor fool dare not resist </p> +<p class="line">The terrors of her threat’ning fist. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act ii., Sc. 4. <i>Mrs. T.</i> No, no—no mischief—harkye, you did me a service just now in the street. <i>Tom.</i> I know I did, down by the pump. <i>Mrs. T.</i> Well, now, I’ll do you one—my husband <span class="corr" id="xd33e56160" title="Source: i">is</span> asleep: I have the keys; and I <span class="sc">wear the breeches</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Breeching</b>, <i>verbal subs.</i> (schoolboys’).—A flogging. Like <span class="sc">breech</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), formerly in general use. +</p> +<p class="cit">1520. <span class="sc">Whittington</span>, <i>Vulg.</i> (1527), 26. I studye to-day to-daye bycause I fere a <span class="sc">brechyng</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1594. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Unfortunate Traveller</i>, in wks. V., 149. Heeres a stirre thought I to my selfe after I was set at libertie, +that is worse than an vpbrayding lesson after a <span class="sc">britching</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Breef.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Brief</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Breeze</b>, <i>subs.</i> (general).—A row; quarrel; disturbance; coolness. [From <span class="sc">breeze</span>, a cool wind.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. To kick up a <span class="sc">breeze</span>, to breed a disturbance. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress</i>, p. 5. But, though we must hope for such good times as these, Yet, as something may +happen to kick up a <span class="sc">breeze</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <i>Saturday Review</i>, 28 Jan., p. 119. ‘Don’t be angry; we’ve had our <span class="sc">breeze</span>. Shake hands!’ [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brekker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Oxford University).—Breakfast. [Formed by phonetically taking the first syllable +of ‘breakfast’ + <span class="sc">er</span>, a species of slang formation, which originated at Harrow.]—<i>See</i> ‘Comparative and Historical Study of Slang’ at the end of this work. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brevet Hell</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A nickname for a battle, which originated during the Civil War. The meaning +is obvious enough. The carnage and bloodshed of a battle-field is only a degree short +of the horrors of the theological ‘hell.’ Compare with <span class="sc">brevet-wife</span>, <span class="sc">brevet-rank</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb324">[<a href="#pb324">324</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Brevet-Wife</b>, <i>subs.</i> (general).—A woman who, without being married to a man, lives with him, takes his +name, and enjoys all the privileges of a wife. A transferred figurative sense of the +legitimate word. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brew</b>, <i>verb</i> (Marlborough School).—To make afternoon tea. Almost always carried on in couples, +but sometimes three boys <span class="sc">brew</span> together. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brewer’s Horse</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A drunkard. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Elbow crooker.</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brewing</b>, <i>verbal subs.</i> (Marlborough College).—The making of afternoon tea.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Brew.</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brian o’ Linn</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming slang).—Gin. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Briar</b>, <b>Brier</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A colloquialism for ‘brier-wood pipe.’ The <i lang="la">Erica arborea</i> or White Heath, a native of the Mediterranean littoral is largely used in the manufacture +of pipes. [<i>Cf.</i>, Fr. <i lang="fr">bruyère</i> = ‘heath.’] +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Graphic</i>, Dec. 16, p. 683, col. 2. Nowadays, every third man you meet has a cigarette or a +<span class="sc">briar</span> in his mouth. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Harper’s Mag.</i>, 27 Dec. There is the ever-ready <span class="sc">brier</span>-root pipe loaded with Caporal. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brick</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A good fellow; one whose staunchness and loyalty commend him to his fellows—a +highly eulogistic epithet for one man to apply to another. Said to be of University +origin, the simile being drawn from the classics. A writer in <i>Hallberger’s Illustrated Magazine</i> [1878, p. 635], says the expression is logically deduced in the following amusing +manner. A brick is ‘deep-red,’ so a ‘deep-read’ man is a <span class="sc">brick.</span> The punning syllogism is carried further. To read like a <span class="sc">brick</span> is to read till you are deep-‘read’; a deep-read man is in University-phrase a ‘good +man’; a good man is a jolly fellow with non-reading men, <i>ergo</i> a jolly fellow is a <span class="sc">brick.</span> +</p> +<p>It has, however, been pointed out that dedicatory columns of various forms have been +found bearing Greek inscriptions, records of the great and virtuous. Some of these +were <i>circular</i> and fluted pillars; but the Athenians are said to have dedicated <i>square</i> columns so inscribed, which gave rise to the <i>style</i> <span class="trans" title="tetrag"><span lang="grc" class="grek">τετράγ</span></span> = <span class="trans" title="ōnos anēr"><span lang="grc" class="grek">ωνος ἀνὴρ</span></span> [<i>see</i> Aristotle, <i>Eth.</i>, i., 10], one whose worth entitled him to honorary mention on some monumental stone +of the <i>form</i> described. The <i>anticipatory</i> distinction might, therefore, be easily accorded to one worthy of such posthumous +honours. From the meritorious notion of the <i>rectangular</i> stone or pillar we get the living <i>type</i> of genuine or supposititious worth—a regular <span class="sc">brick.</span> A further analogy may be drawn from the clayey basis of the <span class="sc">brick</span>, even in a state of combination with <i>sand</i> and <i>ashes</i>—those types of instability and decay—and we naturally acquire the notion of <i>solidity</i>, consistency, and strength. We are thus enabled to apply the above phrase to the +<i>child</i> of clay, who may chance to resemble it in its constitution, whose moral materials +and parts have been originally so carefully formed, so judiciously tempered and <span class="pageNum" id="pb325">[<a href="#pb325">325</a>]</span>skilfully moulded, that, in spite of a frail and infirm nature, he has preserved his +shape thus early given. The fiery test but determines his solidity; his sound, staunch, +and unshrinking firmness, constitutes him a regular <span class="sc">brick</span> or hero, the attributes which especially qualify him for that metaphorical appellation. +<i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">On the square</span>; <span class="sc">straight—true—clean as a die</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>Ingoldsby Legends</i> (<i>Brothers of Birchington</i>). In brief I don’t stick to declare, Father Dick, So they called him for short, was +a regular <span class="sc">brick</span>; A metaphor taken, I have not the page aright, Out of an ethical work by the Stagyrite. +</p> +<p class="cit">1850. <span class="sc">Smedley</span>, <i>Frank Fairlegh</i>, p. 10. ‘Mr. Fairlegh, let me introduce this gentleman, Mr. George Lawless; he is, +if he will allow me to say so, one of the most rising young men of his generation, +one of the firmest props of the glorious edifice of our rights and privileges.’ ‘A +regular <span class="sc">brick</span>,’ interposed Coleman. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Newcomes</i>, ch. x. ‘But the others are capital. There is that little chap who has just had the +measles—he’s a dear little <span class="sc">brick</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">T. Hughes</span>, <i>Tom Brown’s School-days</i>, p. 100. He voted E.’s new crony a <span class="sc">brick</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">George Eliot</span>, <i>Daniel Deronda</i>, ch. xvi. Their brothers’ friend, declared by Hans to be the salvation of him, a +fellow like nobody else, and, in fine, a <span class="sc">brick</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Un bon gniasse</i> (cads’ and thieves’); <i lang="fr">être d’un bon bouchon</i> (to be a brick. Michel gives <i lang="fr">bouchon</i> as ‘cadet’); <i lang="fr">un bon bougre</i> (popular: Barrère says the word <i lang="fr">bougre</i> is often used with a disparaging sense; <i lang="fr">bougre de cochon</i>, ‘you dirty pig’; <i lang="fr">bougre de serin</i>, ‘you ass.’ Littré derives <i lang="fr">bougre</i> from <i lang="la">Bulgarus</i>, Bulgarian; the heretic Albigeois, who shared the religious ideas of some of the +Bulgarians, received the name of <i lang="fr">bougres</i>); <i lang="fr">un zig</i>, <i lang="fr">zigue</i>, <i lang="fr">zigorneau</i>, <i lang="fr">zigard</i>, or <i lang="fr">zingo</i> (popular: Michel gives <i>zig</i> as <i>camarade</i>, ‘a comrade’; in Italian <i lang="it">zigno</i> or <i lang="fr">petit lézard</i> which latter (<i lang="fr">lézard</i>) signifies in French argot, a ‘bad lot’). +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (American).—To punish a man by bringing the knees close up to the chin, and lashing +the arms tightly to the knees—a species of trussing. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Like a brick</span>—<span class="sc">like bricks</span>—(and in an intensive form) <span class="sc">like a thousand of bricks</span>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (common).— With energy; alacrity; thoroughly; vehemently and with much display. [Derived +partly attributively from <span class="sc">brick</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), and partly in allusion to the crash of failing bricks.] There are numerous similes +of a kindred character; <i>e.g.</i>, <span class="sc">Like beans</span>; <span class="sc">Like one o’clock</span>; <span class="sc">Like blazes</span>, all of which <i>see</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Sketches</i>, p. 139. Bump they [cab and horse] cums agin the post, and out flies the fare <span class="sc">like bricks</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>I. L.</i> (<i>Ingoldsby Penance</i>). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">For the Friar to his skirts closely sticks, </p> +<p class="line">‘Running after him,’—so said the Abbot,—<span class="sc">like bricks</span>! </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1860. <i>New Orleans Picayune</i>, April 27 (Police Report). ‘When it came to the breakdown, Your Honor, he kicked +up a row like a drove of contrary mules, and when we wanted to turn him out, he fell +upon us <span class="sc">like a thousand of bricks</span>, and threatened to make minced meat of the police and every one of us.<span>’</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Western World</i>, March 5. ‘When Mr. Nye had finished, Mr. Stewart rose, and with his irresistible +logic and impressive language came down upon him <span class="sc">like a thousand of bricks</span>, till he was utterly crushed and demolished.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb326">[<a href="#pb326">326</a>]</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">Brick in the hat</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—A drunken man is said to have a <span class="sc">brick in his hat</span>, the allusion being to top-heaviness and inability to preserve a steady gait. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brick-duster.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Brickfielder</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brickdusts</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—The Fifty-third Regiment of Foot, so nicknamed from its facings, which +are scarlet. Another slang appellation is ‘<span class="sc">The Old Five-and-Threepennies</span>,’ from its number and the daily pay of an ensign. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brickfielder</b> or <b>Brickduster</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Australian colloquial).—In Sydney the name given to a dust or sand-storm brought +by southerly winds from sand hills locally known as the <span class="sc">Brickfields</span>—hence the name. Also called the <span class="sc">buster</span> or <span class="sc">southerly burster</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">18(?). <span class="sc">Munday</span>, <i>Our Antipodes</i>. In October, 1848, as I find by my diary, I witnessed a fine instance of a nocturnal +<span class="sc">brickfielder</span>. Awakened by the roaring of the wind I arose and looked out. It was bright moonlight, +or it would have been bright but for the clouds of dust, which, impelled by a perfect +hurricane, curled up from the earth, and <span class="corr" id="xd33e56687" title="Source: absolulely">absolutely</span> muffled the fair face of the planet. Pulverised specimens of every kind and colour +of soil within two miles of Sydney, flew past the house high over the chimney tops +in lurid whirl-winds, now white, now red. It had all the appearance of an American +prairie fire, barring the fire. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <i>Fraser’s Mag.</i>, XLVIII., 515. What the Sydney people call a <span class="sc">brickfielder</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <span class="sc">Cowan</span>, <i>Charcoal Sk.</i> The buster and <span class="sc">brickfielder</span>: Austral red-dust blizzard and red-hot simoon. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bricklayer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (clerical).—A clergyman. [It has been hazarded that the term is a familiar corruption +of <i>Ru</i><span class="sc">bricklayer</span>, to denote general character for Rubrical exactness—said of men who not only lay +down Liturgical law, but obey it. With more propriety, however, may it be held as +referring to the important part taken by the mediæval clergy in <i>ecclesiastical</i> architecture. Mr. Thomas Boys, in the course of an interesting article on the subject +[<i>N. and Q.</i>, 2 S., vii., 115], traces its historical derivation somewhat as follows:—It is well +known how in former days the building of cathedrals and other sacred edifices was +patronised and promoted both by the dignitaries and by the clergy generally; but it +is not, perhaps, matter of equal notoriety that many chapters and collegiate bodies +had a functionary called a <i>workman</i> (<i lang="la">operarius</i>), on whom devolved the charge of repairing and maintaining the sacred fabric, and +who was often <i>one of their own number</i>. In fact, he was of the dignitaries of the church. ‘<i lang="la">Operarius, Dignitas, in Collegiis Canonicorum, et Monasteriis, cui operibus publicis +vacare incumbit</i>’ (Carpenter). The office of this <i lang="la">operarius</i> or workman was called ‘<i lang="la">operaria</i>.’ ‘<i lang="la">Operaria. Dignitas Operarii in collegiis canonicorum et monasteriis</i>’ (<i>ib.</i>). In Spain, the clerical <i lang="la">operarius</i> was called by the corresponding Spanish name, <i lang="es">obrero</i> (a workman). ‘<i lang="es">Obrero. Se llama tambien el que cuida de las obras, en las Iglesias o Comunidades, +que en algunas Cathedrales es dignidad</i>’ (<i lang="es">Dicc. de la Ac. Esp.</i>); <i>i.e.</i>, in some cathedrals the office made the holder of it a dignitary. Salazar de Mendoza, +in his ‘Cronica del Cardenal Don R. G. de Mendoça,’ <span class="pageNum" id="pb327">[<a href="#pb327">327</a>]</span>tells us that, the Cardinal having conceded to the Chapter of the cathedral at Toledo, +the administration of the building-fund, the Chapter in 1485, nominated as <i>workman</i> (<i lang="es">obrero</i>) the Canon Juan de Contreras (<i>Lib.</i> II., cap. 62, par. 2). May we not conjecture, then, that, if clergymen are now provincially +called <span class="sc">bricklayers</span>, it is because their mediæval predecessors were, with a special reference to <i>building</i>, called ‘workmen’? Possibly, from the appointment of certain ecclesiastics in former +days under the name of <i lang="la">operarii</i> or workmen, for the repair and maintenance of public edifices in the University of +Oxford, the title of <span class="sc">bricklayers</span> may have passed, in course of time, to the neighbouring clergy of Oxon and Berks. +The use of bricks, which ceased in this country after the decline of the Roman power, +is stated by Hallam to have been reintroduced, probably from Flanders, in the early +part of the fourteenth century. +</p> +<p>With perhaps equal propriety the term [<span class="sc">bricklayer</span>] is thought to refer to the <span class="trans" title="oikodomē tou sōmatos tou Christou"><span lang="grc" class="grek">οἰκοδομὴ τοῦ σώματος τοῦ Χριστοῦ</span></span> (Eph. iv., 12), trusting that they, like St. Paul, are wise ‘master builders’; builders +on the only true foundation, ‘which is Jesus Christ.’ Edify, <i>edificare</i> <span class="trans" title="oikodomein"><span lang="grc" class="grek"><span class="corr" id="xd33e56798" title="Source: οὶκοδομεἴυ">οἰκοδομεῖν</span></span></span> have primary reference to houses built with hands, as well as to the spiritual one +of building up the Church of Christ.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bricklayer’s Clerk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—One of the hundred names given to a lubberly sailor.—<i>W. Clark Russell.</i> For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Strawyarder</span>, and <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bail</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bricks</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Wellington College).—A sort of pudding. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bridge</b>, <i>subs.</i> (cards’).—A cheating trick at cards, by which any particular card is cut by previously +curving it by the pressure of the hand. Used in France as well as in England, and +termed in the Parisian <i lang="fr">Argot faire le pont sec</i>, also <i lang="fr">couper dans le pont</i>. The <i lang="la">modus operandi</i> of avoiding, or rather of neutralizing the cut, which is the very backbone of the +card-sharper’s art, is somewhat difficult, and is generally performed by one of two +methods, termed respectively the ‘<span class="sc">bridge</span>’ and the ‘pass.’ In the former method the sharper, at the end of his shuffle—the +cards being still held backs uppermost in the left hand—takes some twelve or fifteen +of the underneath cards lengthwise between the thumb and first and second fingers +of the right hand and throws them on the top of the pack, at the same time giving +them a slight squeeze outwards which causes them to assume an imperceptible curve. +When placed on the table to be cut, the pack will now, owing to this curve or ‘<span class="sc">bridge</span>,’ present in the middle a very slight gap almost invisible to the eye; and experience +shows that the odds are twenty to one that the adversary will cut exactly at that +very spot, thus taking off the twelve or fifteen cards thrown on the top and bringing +the ‘readied’ portion of the pack back to its original position. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, I., p. 266. I got my living by card-playing in the low lodging-houses … I worked +the oracle; they were not up to it. I put the first and seconds on, and the <span class="sc">bridge</span> too. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb328">[<a href="#pb328">328</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">Lever</span>, <i>Davenport Dunn</i>, I., p. 251. I’ve found out the way that Yankee fellows does the king. It’s not the +common <span class="sc">bridge</span> that every body knows. +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <span class="sc">Yates</span>, <i>Black Sheep</i>, I., p. 70. The genius which had hitherto been confined to <span class="sc">bridging</span> a pack of cards, or ‘securing’ a die, talking over a flat, or winning money of a +greenhorn, was to have its vent in launching a great City Company. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (old).—Explained by quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dict.</i> To <span class="sc">bridge</span> a person, or to throw him over the bridge, is … to deceive him by betraying the confidence +he has reposed in you. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bridle-Cull</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A highwayman. [From <span class="sc">bridle</span> + <span class="sc">cull</span>, a ‘man.’] A French equivalent is <i lang="fr">un garcon de campagne</i>; also <i lang="fr">un grinche de cambrouse</i>; <i lang="fr">aller au trimar</i> or <i lang="fr">trimard</i>, ‘to become a highwayman.’ <i lang="fr">Trimar</i> = road or ‘toby.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Jonathan Wild</i>, bk. I., ch. v. A booty of £10 looks as great in the eye of a <span class="sc">bridle-cull</span>, and gives as much real happiness to his fancy, as that of as many thousands to the +statesman. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bridport</b> or <b>Brydport Dagger</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The hangman’s rope. ‘To be stabbed with a <span class="sc">Bridport Dagger</span>’ signifies ‘to be hanged.’ For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Horse’s nightcap</span>, and <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Anodyne necklace</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1662. <span class="sc">Fuller</span>, <i>Worthies, Dorset</i> (I., 310). ‘Stab’d with a <span class="sc">Brydport dagger</span>.’ That is, hang’d or executed at the Gallowes; the best, if not the most, hemp (for +the quantity of ground) growing about Brydport. +</p> +<p class="cit">1787. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Prov. Glossary, etc.</i> (1811), p. 67. Stabbed with a <span class="sc">Brydport dagger</span>. That is hanged. Great quantity of hemp is grown about this town; and, on account +of its superior qualities, Fuller says there was an ancient statute, now disused, +that the cables for the royal navy should be made thereabouts. +</p> +<p class="cit">1807. <span class="sc">Southey</span>, <i>Espriella’s Letters</i>, i., 35 (3 ed.). The neighbourhood is so proverbially productive of hemp, that when +a man is hanged, they have a vulgar saying, that he has been stabbed with a <span class="sc">Bridport dagger</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brief</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A ticket of any kind, whether railway pass, pawnbrokers’ duplicate, or +ticket for a raffle; also a pocket book. Hence <span class="sc">briefless</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">J. W. Horsley</span>, in <i>Macm. Mag.</i>, XL., 501. I took a <span class="sc">brief</span> (ticket) to London Bridge. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, Aug. 18, p. 3, col. 2. His usual line of business was ‘<span class="sc">brief</span>-snatching,’ <i>i.e.</i>, hovering about the crowd that surrounds a small bookmaker, and snatching from the +hands of the unwary the credential they with rash eagerness exhibit, and which they +desire to exchange with the man they have bet with for their winnings. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Sporting Times</i>, 6 July. They copped the <span class="sc">briefs</span> at the next station, and he changed carriages. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Briefless</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Ticketless.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Brief</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Bird o’ Freedom</i>, Aug. 7, p. 3. Following close at the heels of Newman, I soon found myself within +the Aquarium, all <span class="sc">briefless</span> as I was, and without having been asked any questions. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Briefs</b> or <b>Breefs</b>, <i>subs.</i> (card-sharpers’).—Cards tampered with for the purpose of swindling.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bridge</span>, <span class="sc">Concaves</span>, and <span class="sc">Convexes</span>, <span class="sc">Longs</span>, and <span class="sc">Shorts</span>, <span class="sc">Reflectors</span>, etc. [From the German <i lang="de">briefe</i>, which Baron Heinecken says was the name given to the cards manufactured at Ulm. +<i lang="de">Brief</i> is also the synonym for a card in the German Rothwalsch dialect, and <i lang="de">briefen</i> is to play at cards.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1529. [Edited by] <span class="sc">Luther</span>, <i lang="la">Liber Vagatorum</i> (1860), p. 47. ‘Item—beware of the Joners (gamblers), who practice Beseflery with +the <span class="sc">brief</span> (cheating <span class="pageNum" id="pb329">[<a href="#pb329">329</a>]</span>at cards), who deal falsely and cut one for the other, cheat with Boglein and spies, +pick one <span class="sc">brief</span> from the ground, and another from a cupboard,’ etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1720. <i>Old Book of Games</i>, quoted by Hotten. ‘Take a pack of cards and open them, then take out all the honours +… and cut a little from the edges of the rest all alike, so as to make the honours +broader than the rest, so that when your adversary cuts to you, you are certain of +an honour. When you cut to your adversary cut at the ends, and then it is a chance +if you cut him an honour, because the cards at the ends are all of a length. Thus +you may make <span class="sc">breefs</span> end-ways as well as side-ways.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brief-Snatcher</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—Pocket-book thieves. [From <span class="sc">brief</span> (<i>q.v.</i>, sense 1), slang term for a pocket-book, + <span class="sc">snatcher</span>.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brigh</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A pocket. +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">J. W. Horsley</span>, in <i>Macm. Mag.</i>, XL., 502. Having a new suit of clobber on me, and about fifty blow in my <span class="sc">brigh</span> (pocket). +</p> +<p>Some <span class="sc">English Synonyms</span> are:—Cly, skyrocket. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms</span> are <i lang="fr">une grande</i>; <i lang="fr">une profonde</i>, <i lang="fr">parfonde</i> or <i lang="fr">prophête</i> (thieves’: literally deep; also used for ‘cave’ or ‘cellar’); <i lang="fr">une fouillouse</i> (thieves’: this term is an old one. <i lang="fr">Fouille</i> = a ‘digging’ or excavation. There are various forms—<i lang="fr">foulle</i>, <i lang="fr">felouse</i>, <i lang="fr">filoche</i>); <i lang="fr">une gueularde</i> (thieves’: <i lang="fr">gueulard</i> = wallet in slang, but properly signifies a stove); <i lang="fr">une baguenaude</i> (thieves’ and cads’: properly ‘a bladder-nut’); <i lang="fr">une balade</i> or <i lang="fr">ballade</i>; <i lang="fr">une valade</i> (thieves’: from <i lang="fr">avaler</i>, to swallow up); <i lang="fr">une fondrière</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">un four banal</i> (thieves’: either used to signify a ‘pocket,’ a ‘false pocket,’ or an ‘omnibus’); +<i lang="fr">une sonde</i> (literally <i lang="fr">sonde</i> = probe). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bright in the Eye</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common)<span>.</span>—Slightly tipsy. [An allusion to the sparkling appearance of the eyes at an early +stage of intoxication; subsequently they become dull and sleepy.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Screwed</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brighton Tipper</b>, <i>subs.</i>—A peculiar kind of ale.—<i>See</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1843. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Martin Chuzzlewit</i>, I., p. 347. Requiring … a pint of the celebrated staggering ale, or Real Old <span class="sc">Brighton Tipper</span>, at supper. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 447. If they draws the <span class="sc">Brighton Tipper</span> here, I takes that ale at night, my love. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brim</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A prostitute. [A contraction of <span class="sc">brimstone</span> (<i>q.v.</i>)] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack-hack</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1730–6. <span class="sc">Bailey.</span> <span class="sc">Brim</span> [<i>q.</i> a contraction of Brimstone], a common strumpet. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1764. <span class="sc">T. Brydges</span>, <i>Homer Travest.</i> (1797), i., 173. Can mortal scoundrels thee [Hera] perplex, And the great <span class="sc">brim</span> of brimstones vex? +</p> +<p class="cit">1808. <span class="sc">Jamieson.</span> <span class="sc">Brim</span>, a cant term for a trull.—<i>Loth.</i> +</p> +<p>2. (common<span class="corr" id="xd33e57298" title="Source: .)">).</span>—Nowadays the term signifies an angry, violent woman, or a termagant, without reference +to moral character. An equivalent French term is <i lang="fr">une chipie</i>. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Brimstone</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1799. <i>Whim of the Day.</i> She raved, she abused me, and splenetic was; She’s a vixen, she’s a <span class="sc">brim</span>, zounds! She’s all that is bad. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brimstone</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A violent tempered woman; a virago; a spitfire. [A reference to the inflammable +character of the mineral.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1712. <span class="sc">Bp. Burnet</span>, in Walpole’s <i>Reminiscences</i> (1819), p. 75. ‘Oh, madam,’ said the bishop, ‘do not you know what a <span class="sc">brimstone</span> of a wife he had?’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb330">[<a href="#pb330">330</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1751. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Peregrine Pickle</i>, ch. vi. ‘She is … not a <span class="sc">brimstone</span>, like Kate Koddle, of Chatham.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1760. <span class="sc">C. Johnston</span>, <i>Chrysal</i>, II., 190. I hate the law damnably ever since I lost a year’s pay for hindering our +boatswain’s mate’s brother from beating his wife. The <span class="sc">brimstone</span> swore I beat her husband, and so I paid for meddling. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">H. Kingsley</span>, <i>Geoffrey Hamlyn</i>, ch. xxiii. Who seemed, too, to have a temper of her own, and promised, under circumstances, +to turn out a bit of a <span class="sc">b—mst—ne</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—A prostitute. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack-hack</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose.</span> Brim (abbreviation of <span class="sc">brimstone</span>), an abandoned woman; perhaps originally only a passionate or irascible woman, compared +to <span class="sc">brimstone</span> for its inflammability. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Briney</b> or <b>Briny</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—The sea. A ‘dip in the <span class="sc">briney</span>’ once a year is a great attraction to Cockney excursionists. Hotten tells a story +of one excursionist saying to another, as they stripped in a double machine, ‘Why, +’Arry what dirty feet you’ve got!’ ‘’Ave I; well yer see I wasn’t down last year.’ +[From the <i>adj.</i> signifying, ‘of or pertaining to brine or the sea.’] +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>Kate Coventry</i>, ch. xiv. The luckless plight in which a stout gentleman had found himself, by the +temporary loss of all his apparel, while he was disporting in the <span class="sc">briny</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>Punch</i>, Jan. 15, p. 14. <i>Grigsby.</i> Hullo, my Jellaby, you here! Come and take a dip in the <span class="sc">briny</span>, old man. I’m sure you look as if you <i>wanted</i> it. <i>Postlethwaite.</i> Thanks, no. I never bathe. I always see myself so dreadfully foreshortened in the +Water, you know! +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Sporting Times</i>, June 29. Next day bathing, returning from which we beheld a curious sight, three +nymphs carrying down to the strand a bath in which one of them was, apparently with +a curious mistrust of the sea, going to try the <span class="sc">briny</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> Herring pond; big pond; big drink; the puddle; Davy’s locker. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms</span>. <i lang="fr">La grande tasse</i> (familiar: properly ‘the big cup.’ <i lang="fr">Boire dans la grande tasse</i>, ‘to be drowned’); <i lang="fr">la grande bleue</i> (popular: the great blue—an allusion to the colour of deep sea water); <i lang="fr">le grand salé</i> (popular: literally ‘the great salt’); <i lang="fr">le pré salé</i> (popular: properly the salted or <span class="sc">briny</span> meadow.) +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bring Down the House</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (general).—To elicit loud applause; and, still more figuratively, to be successful. +[The figure of speech is that demonstrative applause will cause the walls to give +way. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">To raise the roof off</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <i>World</i>, II., No. 76, 125. His apprehension that your statues will <span class="sc">bring the house down</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Rev. E. Bradley</span> (‘Cuthbert Bede’), <i>Adventures of Verdant Green</i>, II., p. 23. Why, it would surpass the British sailor’s broadsword combat for six, +and <span class="sc">bring down the house</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">Forster</span>, <i>Life of Charles Dickens</i>, ch. xliv. (IV., p. 252). ‘And give us your applause, for that is always just’! which +<span class="sc">brought down the house</span> with rapture. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">Mrs. Riddell</span>, <i>Her Mother’s Darling</i>, II., p. 61 (ch. xii). I do not fancy she would ever forgive any of us if Honie were +to <span class="sc">bring down the house</span> at Elm Vale. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Bird o’ Freedom</i>, Aug. 7, p. 3. But Samson’s crowning feat of all was to break with his fist two steel +chains, suspended from a couple of posts. This fairly <span class="sc">brought down the house</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brisket-Beater</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A Roman Catholic. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Breast fleet</span> and <span class="sc">Craw-thumper</span>, synonymous terms. Quoted by Grose [1785]. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb331">[<a href="#pb331">331</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bristles</b> or <b>Bristle Dice</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A method of ‘cogging’ dice by inserting <span class="sc">bristles</span> into them, and thus influencing the position of the cubes when ‘thrown.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1532. <i>Dice Play</i> (1050), 28. <span class="sc">Bristle dice</span>, be now too gross a practice to be put in use. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1680. <span class="sc">Cotton</span>, in Singer <i>Hist. Cards</i>, 335. This they do by false dice, as … By <span class="sc">bristle-dice</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. xxiii. ‘Men talk of high and low dice, Fulhams and <span class="sc">bristles</span> … and a hundred ways of rooking besides.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bristol Milk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Sherry. [An allusion to sherry being formerly a large import of the city of +<span class="sc">Bristol</span>.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1644. <span class="sc">Prynne and Walker</span>, <i>Fiennes’ Trial</i>, 78. Good store of <span class="sc">Bristol milk</span>, strong wines and waters. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1662. <span class="sc">Fuller</span>, <i>Worthies, Bristol</i>. ‘<span class="sc">Bristol milk</span>’; this metaphorical milk, whereby Xeres or Sherry Sack is intended. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bristol milk</span>, a Spanish wine called sherry, much drank at that place, particularly in the morning. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849–61. <span class="sc">Macaulay</span>, <i>Hist. Eng.</i>, I., iii. A rich beverage made of the best Spanish wine, and celebrated … as <span class="sc">Bristol milk</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broach Claret</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (pugilistic).—To draw blood.—<i>See</i>, however, <span class="sc">Claret</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broad and Shallow</b>, <i>phr.</i> (popular).—An epithet applied to the so-called ‘Broad Church,’ in contradistinction +to the ‘High’ and ‘Low’ Churches.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">High and dry</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Graphic</i>, 10 April, p. 399. In the Church have we not the three schools of High and Dry, Low +and Slow, and <span class="sc">Broad and Shallow</span>? +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broadbottoms</b>, <i>subs.</i> (political).—A nickname given to two Coalition Governments, one in the last century +[1741], and the other in 1807.—<i>See</i> quots. +</p> +<p>A pamphlet dated April 18, 1807, has reference to the latter. Its full title is:—‘The +pigs possessed, or the <span class="sc">broadbottom’d</span> litter running headlong into the Sea of Perdition.’ The characters are George III., +as the British farmer; Lords Sidmouth, Ellenborough, Howick (‘Test Act’); Mr. Windham; +Lords Holland, Walpole, Carlisle St. Vincent; Earls Temple (‘Last Stake’), Grenville +(‘Catholic Bill’), and of Derby; Lords Erskine, Lauderdale (a Scotch pig), H. Petty, +and Moira; the Duke of Bedford, who was Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, marked ‘Erin go +Bragh’; Earl Spencer, Marquis of Buckingham (‘Family’), R. B. Sheridan (Harlequin), +Courtney, Tierney, and Whitbread (‘Entire’). Courtney is placed in profile between +Ellenborough and Sidmouth. He was an intimate friend of Fox. This is said to be the +only portrait of him. The print is a supplement to another styled ‘More Pigs than +Teats.’ The pigs represent the Ministers described commonly by the phrase ‘All the +Talents,’ or the ‘<span class="sc">Broad-Bottoms</span>’ who were succeeded, April, 1807, by the Duke of Portland and his supporters. The +former are not to be confounded with an earlier ‘<span class="sc">Broad-Bottom</span>’ Administration. The latter was commemorated in the satirical inscription for Fox’s +tomb, <i lang="la">Hic jacet Pater Broad-Bottomos</i>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb332">[<a href="#pb332">332</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1742. <span class="sc">Walpole</span>, <i>Lett. to Mann</i> (1833), No. 22, Feb. 18, vol. I., p. 106. The Tories declare against any farther +prosecution—if Tories there are, for now one heard of nothing but the <span class="sc">broad-bottom</span>; it is the reigning cant word, and means, the taking all parties and people, indifferently, +into the ministry. +</p> +<p class="cit">1843. <span class="sc">Macaulay</span>, <i>Historical Essays</i>, II., p. 244. The Pelhams had forced the King, much against his will, to part with +Lord Carteret.… They proceeded, after this victory, to form the Government on that +basis, called by the cant name of the ‘<span class="sc">broad-bottom</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <span class="sc">Jeaffreson</span>, <i>Live It Down</i>, I., p. 249. The star of Granville is falling, that of Pelham is in the ascendant; +and the great coalition on ‘The <span class="sc">Br. B.</span>’ is managing the affairs of the State. +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Robert Ainsleigh</i>, I., p. 37. A scathing reply from the polished chief of the famous <span class="sc">Br. B.</span> Administration. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Pol. Slang</i>, in <i>Cornhill Mag.</i>, June, p. 628. A Coalition Government in the last century was known by the apt nickname +of the ‘<span class="sc">Broad Bottom</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broadbrim</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A Quaker. [The origin of this expression is to be found in the hat once +peculiar to the ‘Society of Friends.’ Hotten says the epithet is now used of any quiet, +sedate, old man.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1712. <i>Spectator</i>, No. 276. [<span class="sc">Broad-brim</span> is used as the name of a Quaker correspondent.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1750. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, bk. VII., ch. x. This the Quaker had observed, and this, added to the rest of his +behaviour, inspired honest <span class="sc">broad-brim</span> with a conceit that his companion was, in reality, out of his senses. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Reader</i> (quoted in <i>Notes and Queries</i>, 5 S., ix., p. 263). <span class="sc">Broadbrim</span>, a Quaker. This word clearly owes its origin to the peculiar hat worn by the Society +of Friends. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Jas. Grant</span>, <i>One of the Six Hundred</i>, ch. i. The sly <span class="sc">broad-brim</span>, and popularity-hunters of the Peace Society sent a deputation to the Emperor Nicholas. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broad-Cooper</b>, <i>subs.</i> (brewers’).—A person employed by brewers to negotiate with publicans. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broad Coves</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Card-sharpers. [From <span class="sc">broads</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), cards, + <span class="sc">cove</span> (<i>q<span>.</span>v.</i>), a man.] The modern term for swindling at cards is <span class="sc">broad faking</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). A French equivalent is <i lang="fr">un brêmeur</i>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Rook</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act ii., Sc. 5. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Your swell <span class="sc">broad coves</span>, with all their airs </p> +<p class="line">Can’t match the kids near Wapping stairs, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">They are so down and knowing; </p> +<p class="line">Of lowest life you’ll see the best, </p> +<p class="line">At Maces’s, All-max, in the East; </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">So let’s at once be going: </p> +<p class="line">Come, toddle along, toddle along, etc. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Broad-Faking</b>, <i>subs.</i> (card-sharpers’).—Playing at cards. Generally used, however, to denote ‘work’ of +the three card and kindred descriptions. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broad-Fencer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A ‘k’rect card’ seller at races. [From <span class="sc">broad</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), a card, + <span class="sc">fence</span> or <span class="sc">fencer</span>, a ‘tradesman.’] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broads</b>, <i>subs.</i> (general).—Playing cards.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Stock broads</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1789. <span class="sc">Geo. Parker</span>, <i>Life’s Painter</i>, p. 142. Who are continually looking out for flats, in order to do them upon the +<span class="sc">broads</span>, that is <i>cards</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dict.</i> <span class="sc">Broads</span>, cards; a person expert at which is said to be a good <span class="sc">broad-player</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">Harrison Ainsworth</span>, <i>Rookwood</i>, IV., ii. I nick the <span class="sc">broads</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Five Years’ Penal Servitude</i>, ch. iv., p. 262. He … became one of a gang who practised with the <span class="sc">broads</span> card-sharping and the ‘confidence trick.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broadsman</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A card-sharper. [From <span class="sc">broads</span> = cards + <span class="sc">man</span>.] Formerly called <span class="sc">broad cove</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Rook</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb333">[<a href="#pb333">333</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">J. W. Horsley</span>, ‘Autobiography of a Thief,’ in <i>Macm. Mag.</i>, XL., 502. <span class="sc">Broadsmen</span> (card-sharpers). +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <span class="sc">G. R. Sims</span>, in <i>Cass. Sat. Journal</i>, 31 March, p. 7. The <span class="sc">broadsman</span> is a card-sharper. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broady</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. Cloth. [A corruption of <span class="sc">broad-cloth</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, I., p. 54. Gentlemen finding their own <span class="sc">broady</span> can be accommodated. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, August 7, p. 6, col. 2. The prospectus further intimated that … gentlemen ‘finding +their own <span class="sc">broady</span> … could be accommodated.’ +</p> +<p>2. (thieves’.)—Anything worth stealing.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Broady worker</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broady Worker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A man who goes round selling vile shoddy stuff under the pretence that +it is excellent material, which has been ‘got on the cross,’ <i>i.e.</i>, stolen. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brock</b>, <i>verb</i> (Winchester College).—To bully; to tease; to badger. [<span class="sc">Brock</span> is a north country and Hampshire name for a badger.] In French military schools this +is called <i lang="fr">faire une brimade</i> or <i lang="fr">faire brimer</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brockster</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Winchester College).—A bully.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Brock</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brogues</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Christ’s Hospital).—Breeches. This is, in reality, an obsolete old English term +which has survived among the ‘Blues.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broiled</b> or <b>Boiled Crow</b>. <span class="sc">To eat boiled crow.</span>—A newspaper editor, who is obliged by his ‘party’ or other outside influences, to +advocate ‘principles’ different from those which he supported a short time before, +is said to ‘<span class="sc">eat boiled crow</span>.’ Originally the phrase was simply <span class="sc">to eat crow</span>, and the following account is that currently accepted as to its derivation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Atlanta Constitution.</i> During the unpleasantness between the States and England, there were located on opposite +sides of the Niagara river a British and an American fort, and during an armistice +the soldiers of both garrisons were accustomed to go hunting. Among the American troops +was one long, lank, stuttering specimen of the genus Yankee, who would persist, in +spite of orders to the contrary, in going across the river on his hunting expeditions. +One day when on the Canada side he had had poor luck and got nothing, but resolved +not to go back entirely empty handed. While passing through the grounds of an English +gentleman, he spied a <span class="sc">crow</span>, and, blazing away, brought it down. The Englishman had witnessed the shot and resolved +to punish the offender for poaching on his private grounds. As the Yankee was loading +his gun he approached, and, complimenting him on his good shot, asked to look at his +gun. The unsuspecting Yankee handed it to him, and the Briton, bringing the gun to +his shoulder and covering the Yankee, abused him for trespassing on his grounds, and +ordered him, on pain of death, to take a bite out of the <span class="sc">crow</span>. The soldier begged and pleaded, but to no avail. The Englishman had the drop on +him, so he finally bit a piece from the breast of the <span class="sc">crow</span>. The Englishman, after warning him to keep off his premises in the future, handed +him back his gun and bade him clear out. No sooner was his rifle returned than he +covered the Briton and ordered him to finish the <span class="sc">crow</span>. Then it was the Englishman’s turn to beg off, but the Yankee was firm, and the Englishman, +with many a wry face, did succeed in downing several bites of the unsavoury bird. +His wounded honour being appeased, the Yankee betook himself back to the fort. The +Englishman the next day went to the American commander and told his version of the +affair, and demanded that the culprit be punished. From the description given, the +American officer knew that the offender must have been the stuttering soldier, and +ordered him to be brought <span class="pageNum" id="pb334">[<a href="#pb334">334</a>]</span>before them. When he came in the captain asked him if he had ever seen the gentleman +before. The Yankee shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, and, after several +attempts, finally answered that he had. ‘When and under what circumstances?’ asked +the officer. ‘I d-dined with him y-y-yesterday, captin,’ stuttered the soldier. The +story goes that his wit saved the soldier from punishment. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broke.</b> <span class="sc">Dead broke</span> (<i>q.v.</i>)—<span class="sc">Stone broke</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), <i>adj.</i> (common).—Ruined; decayed; hard up—said of health or pecuniary circumstances. The +French slang has <i lang="fr">n’avoir pas un radis</i>, literally ‘not to have a radish’; but for all synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Dead-broke</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <span class="sc">G. R. Sims</span>, <i>How the Poor Live</i>, p. 16. ‘How do you do when you’re <span class="sc">stone broke</span>?’ I ask him. ‘Well, sir, sometimes I comes across a gentleman as gives me a bob and +starts me again.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Pall Mall Gaz.</i>, Aug. 14. I see that Sullivan made 21,000 dols. out of his fight, but as he was ‘<span class="sc">dead broke</span>’ before the battle, there won’t be much of it left. Nevertheless, Sullivan has received +hundreds of begging letters from folks who want him to pay off mortgages on their +homes or buy them houses and lots and things of that sort. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broken Feather in One’s Wing</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (popular).—A blot on one’s character. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Mrs. Oliphant</span>, <i>Phœbe, jun.</i>, ii., 6. If an angel were to walk about, Mrs. Sam Hurst would never rest till she +had found out where he came from. And perhaps whether he had a <span class="sc">broken feather in his wing</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broken-Kneed</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (common).—Said of a girl or woman who has been seduced. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Ankle</span> and <span class="sc">Broken legged</span>; for synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Dock</span> and <span class="sc">Leg</span>. In French theatrical slang, <i lang="fr">avoir mal aux genoux</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broken Legged</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (common).—Seduced.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Dock</span> and <span class="sc">Leg</span> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brolly</b>, <i>subs.</i> (general).—An umbrella. Term first used at Winchester, being subsequently adopted +at both Oxford and Cambridge Universities. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Punch</i>, June 6, p. 273. Pair o’ pattens and <span class="sc">brolly</span> are more in your line. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broncho</b>, <i>adj.</i> (American).—Unruly; wild; savage. The epithet is derived from <span class="sc">broncho</span>, the name of the native horse of California, a somewhat tricky and uncertain quadruped. +The term is familiarly applied to horses that buck and show other signs of vice. The +Spanish signification of the word is rough and crabbed little beast, and in truth +he deserves this name. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <span class="sc">Francis</span>, <i>Saddle and Mocassin</i>. Oh! I don’t know. He’d been singing the music to ‘em’ (imitating them). Sam’s too +<span class="sc">broncho</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broncho-Buster</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A breaker-in of <span class="sc">bronchos</span>; also called a <span class="sc">flash-rider</span>. [From <span class="sc">broncho</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">bust</span>, in its slang sense of annihilate, or overcome, + <span class="sc">er</span>.] These men make a profession of their business and perform really marvellous feats, +riding with ease the most vicious and unbroken beasts that no ordinary rider would +dare tackle. A favourite feat is to sit out the antics of a bucking-horse with silver +half-dollars under each knee or in the stirrups under each foot. Their method of breaking-in +may be described as the exercise of main force, <span class="pageNum" id="pb335">[<a href="#pb335">335</a>]</span>it being a tussle as to which can hold out the longest, man or <span class="sc">broncho</span>. The calling is a dangerous one, and a first-class <span class="sc">broncho-buster</span> can always command high wages and constant employment on large ranches. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bronze John</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—Texas name for yellow fever; Englishmen commonly call it <span class="sc">yellow Jack</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broom</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. <i>See</i> quot. +</p> +<p class="cit">1815. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Guy Mannering</i>, ch. xxviii. ‘The people got rusty about it, and would not deal, and they had bought +so many <span class="sc">brooms</span> that——’ <i>Ibid</i>, ch. xxxiii. (II., p. 96). What are you wanting here? Ye’ll be come wi’ a <span class="sc">broom</span> in your pocket frae Ellengowan? Got so many warrants out. +</p> +<p>2. (harlotry.)—The female <i>pudenda</i>. The male <i>penis</i> is the <span class="sc">broomstick</span>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Monosyllable</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (old).—To run away. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Amputate</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, p<span>.</span> 6. <i>Tom.</i> That will do—now then Dicky, mizzle!—be scarce!—<span class="sc">broom!</span> <i>Prime.</i> Wouldn’t intrude a moment, gentlemen, good morning—order my carriage. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broomstick</b>, <i>subs.</i> (athletic).—A sort of rough cricket bat, very narrow in the blade and all of one +piece of wood. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To jump the broomstick</span>—<span class="sc">hop the broom</span>—<span class="sc">jump the besom</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To live as man and wife without the legal tie. The allusion is to a <i>quasi</i> marriage ceremony performed by both parties jumping over a broomstick. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <span class="sc">Poole</span>, <i>Hamlet Travestied</i>, ii., 3. <span class="sc">Jump o’er a broomstick</span>, but don’t make a farce on The marriage ceremonies of the parson. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i> I., p. 336. The old woman (who kept the ken), when any female, old or young, who +had no tin, came into the kitchen, made up a match for her with some men. Fellows +half-drunk had the old women. There was always a <span class="sc">broomstick</span> wedding. Without that ceremony a couple weren’t looked on as man and wife. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Great Expectations</i>, ch. xlviii., p. 227. ‘They both led tramping lives, and this woman in Gerrard St. +here, had been married very young, <span class="sc">over the broomstick</span> (as we say), to a tramping man, and was a perfect fury in point of jealousy.’ +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 18(79). <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘David Dove that fell in love.’ By <span class="sc">L. M. Thornton</span>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The girl that I had hoped to hear </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Pronounce my happy doom, sir, </p> +<p class="line">Had bolted with a carpenter, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">In fact <span class="sc">hopped o’er the broom</span>, sir. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Broomsticks</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Worthless bail. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Straw bail</span> and <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bail</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dictionary</i>. Queer bail are persons of no repute, hired to bail a prisoner in any bailable case. +These men are to be had in London for a trifling sum, and are called <span class="sc">broomsticks</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brosier</b> or <b>Brozier</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Eton College).—A boy when he had spent all his pocket-money. [<span class="sc">Brozier</span> is a Cheshire term for a bankrupt.] A French term for a bankrupt is <i lang="fr">un déculotté</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, one unbreeched; also <i lang="fr">un bauce</i> or <i lang="fr">bausse fondu</i>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Broziered</span>, <i>ppl. adj.</i>—Cleaned out; done up; ruined; bankrupt. +</p> +<p class="cit">1796. <span class="sc">Merton</span>, <i>Way to get Married</i> (in Inchbald’s ‘British Theatre,’ vol. XXVI). [The term is so used here]. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Brozier-my-dame</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (Eton College).—Eating one out of house and home. At Eton, when a <span class="sc">dame</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) keeps an unusually bad table, the boys agree together on a day to eat, <span class="pageNum" id="pb336">[<a href="#pb336">336</a>]</span>pocket, or waste everything eatable in the house. The censure is well understood, +and the hint is generally effective. +</p> +<p class="cit">1850. <i>Notes and Queries</i>, June 15, p. 44. I well remember the phrase <span class="sc">brozier-my-dame</span>, signifying to eat her out of house and home. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <span class="sc">Rev. W. Rogers</span>, <i>Reminiscences</i>, p. 15. Etonians of my standing will remember John Francis Plumptre, one of the Fellows +… I once behaved very shabbily to him, for I joined a conspiracy to <span class="sc">‘brozier’ him</span>. There were ten or twelve of us [at breakfast], and we devoured everything within +reach. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brother-Blade</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A soldier. Formerly <span class="sc">brother of the blade</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, of the sword; a fellow-soldier. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Mudcrusher</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Brother of the blade</span>, a soldier. +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">H. Ainsworth</span>, <i>Rookwood</i>, bk. IV., ch. ii. ‘I heard some devilish good stories of you at D’Osyndar’s t’other +day; the fellow who told them to me little thought I was a <span class="sc">brother blade</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brother Chip</b> (provincial workmen’s).—One of the same calling or trade; formerly a fellow carpenter. +</p> +<p class="cit">1820. <span class="sc">Clare</span>, <i>Poems of Rural Life</i>, <i>Familiar Epistle</i>, st. 3. And, <span class="sc">brother chip</span>, I love ye dearly, poor as ye be! +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brother of the Brush</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—An artist; a house-painter. +</p> +<p class="cit">1687. <span class="sc">Bp. Cartwright</span>, in <i>Hist. Magd. Coll.</i> (Oxf. Hist. Soc.), 143. Pray make use of my <span class="sc">brother of the brush</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1759. <span class="sc">Sterne</span>, <i>Tr. Shandy</i> (1793), I., 133. The honourable devices which the Pentagraphic <span class="sc">bretheren of the brush</span> have shewn in taking copies. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1833. <span class="sc">Byron</span>, wks. (1846), p. 585, col. 1. A young American <span class="sc">brother of the brush</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brother of the Bung</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—A brewer; one of the same trade. [<span class="sc">Bung</span> here is used as an emblem of the trade of a brewer.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brother of the Buskin</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—A player; actor—one of the same profession. [<span class="sc">Buskin</span> is in allusion to the covering for the foot and leg (<i>cothurnus</i>) worn by actors in <span class="corr" id="xd33e58576" title="Source: trag dy">tragedy</span> among the ancients; in contrast to the sock (<i>soccus</i>) worn by comedians. Stage <span class="sc">buskins</span> had very thick soles to give an appearance of height. Hence <span class="sc">buskin</span> as symbolical of tragedy, but used in the phrase <span class="sc">brother of the buskin</span> in a transferred and general sense.] Quoted by Grose [1785]. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Barn-stormer</span> and <span class="sc">Booth-burster</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brother of the Coif</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A serjeant-at-law. [The coif was a close-fitting cap worn by the serjeants-at-law—hence +the term.] Quoted by Grose [1785]. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brother of the Gusset</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A pimp or <span class="sc">ponce</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Bully</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brother of the Quill</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—An author. [<span class="sc">Quill</span> = pen.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Ink-slinger</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <span class="sc">B. Martin</span>, <i>Eng. Dict.</i> (2 ed.). <span class="sc">Brother of the quill</span>, an author, one of the same profession. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brother of the String</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—A fiddler. [A reference to the violin or fiddle as a stringed instrument.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brother of the Whip</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—A coachman, the whip <span class="pageNum" id="pb337">[<a href="#pb337">337</a>]</span>being taken, as it were, as an insignia of office. +</p> +<p class="cit">1756. <i>The World</i>, No. 207. He … had always greased my heels himself, and upon every one of my birthdays, +had treated all his <span class="sc">brother whips</span> at his own expence. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">T. Miller</span>, in <i>Gabarni in London</i>, p. 39. He is very kind to any poor <span class="sc">brother of the whip</span> whom he sees tugging up-hill in vain, with a weighty load and an ill-fed team. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brother-Smut</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (popular).—A term of familiarity. ‘<span class="sc">Ditto</span>, <span class="sc">brother</span> or <span class="sc">sister smut</span>,’ <i lang="la">tu quoque</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brother Starlings</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Men who cohabit with the same mistress. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Brother Starling</span> … one who … builds in the same nest. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broth of a Boy</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (Irish originally, but now common).—A jolly good fellow. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Brick</span>. [The term is thought to originate from the Irish <i>Broth</i>, passion—<i>Brotha</i>, passionate, spirited—its meaning being, ‘He’s a lad of spirit,’ though it may come +from the ancient Cornish name for the mastiff—<i>brath</i>. Hence a <span class="sc">broth of a boy</span> would then mean ‘a stout dog of a boy—robust.’] +</p> +<p class="cit">1819–24. <span class="sc">Byron</span>, <i>Don Juan</i>, c. viii., st. 24. But Juan was quite <span class="sc">a broth of a boy</span>, a thing of impulse and a child of song. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">Besant and Rice</span>, <i>Son of Vulcan</i>, ch. xx. You ought to have been a preacher and a boy. Faith, and a <span class="sc">broth of a boy</span>, and a <span class="sc">broth</span> of a preacher you’d have made. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Broughtonian</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A bruiser; boxer; pugilist. [From Broughton, once the best boxer of his day.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brown</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. A halfpenny. [Probably an allusion to the colour of the coin in question.] +For synonyms of money generally, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Actual</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dict.</i> <span class="sc">Browns</span> and whistlers, bad halfpence and farthings. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act ii., Sc. 3. <i>Bob.</i> Now then for the stumpy. (<i>Searching about in his pockets for the money.</i>) My tanners are like young colts; I’m obliged to hunt ’em into a corner, afore I +can get hold on ’em—there!—hand us over three <span class="sc">browns</span> out of that ’ere tizzy; and tip us the heavy. (<i>Landlord receives money, and delivers porter.</i>) +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>I. L.</i> (<i>Black Mousquetaire</i>). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The magic effect of a hand of crowns </p> +<p class="line">Upon people whose pockets boast nothing but <span class="sc">browns</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, III., p. 57. If I takes a hat round, they has a plate, and they gets sovereigns +where we has only <span class="sc">browns</span>. <i>Ibid.</i> We keeps it up for half an hour or an hour … if the <span class="sc">browns</span> tumble in well. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>Digby Grand</i>, ch. iv. A shower of <span class="sc">browns</span>, the coppers mingled with silver, from our private box, rewards their exertions. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1884. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘Jimmy Johnson’s Holiday.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">But Violet, the Margate pet, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Who always call’d him Teaser, </p> +<p class="line">Said ‘She would stick like mortar’d brick, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">While Johnson had a <span class="sc">brown</span>.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first">2. (old.)—Porter. [Qy. an abbreviation of ‘Brown Stout.’] +</p> +<p class="cit">1820. Glossary at end of Corcoran’s <i>The Fancy</i>. <span class="sc">Brown</span>, porter; <span class="sc">heavy brown</span>, stout. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—1. A variant of ‘to do brown,’ <i>i.e.</i>, to do to perfection; to get the better of. [The simile is obviously taken from the +browning process which meat undergoes during roasting.]—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Do brown</span>. +</p> +<p>2. To understand; comprehend. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb338">[<a href="#pb338">338</a>]</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">To do brown</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (common).—To do well; also ‘to take in’; deceive; to exceed bounds. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Brown</span>, <i>verb</i>, sense 1. French equivalents for ‘to allow oneself to be <span class="sc">done brown</span>’ are <i lang="fr">godancer</i> and <i lang="fr">être flouè</i>.—<i>See</i> second quotation for variation in usage. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>a.</i> 1600. <span class="sc">John Bon</span>, 162 in Hazl. <i>E. P. P.</i>, iv., 16. Ha! <span class="sc">browne done</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1828. <span class="sc">Jon. Bee</span>, <i>Picture of London</i>, p. 5. ‘Those who consider themselves <span class="sc">brown</span> to every move upon the board’ of actual life. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>I. L.</i> (<i>The Execution</i>). ‘Why, they’d laugh at and quiz us all over the town, We are all of us <span class="sc">done</span> so uncommonly <span class="sc">brown</span>!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1854. <i>Harper’s Monthly</i>, January. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">‘And some of the greenhorns </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Resolved upon flight, </p> +<p class="line">And vamosed the ranch </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">In a desperate plight; </p> +<p class="line">While those who succeeded </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">In reaching the town, </p> +<p class="line">Confessed they were <span class="sc">done</span>, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Most exceedingly <span class="sc">brown</span>.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1861. <i>Times</i> (on American affairs). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">John Bull, slyly winkin’, then said unto he: </p> +<p class="line">‘My dear <i>Times</i>, my old covey, go pitch into he; </p> +<p class="line">Let us wallop great Doodle now when he is down; </p> +<p class="line">If we wallops him well, we will <span class="sc">do him up brown</span>.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1876. <span class="sc">Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 267. I was once done myself with some pigs—I! and <span class="sc">done brown</span> too, and at a time when I ought to have known better. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brown Bess</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming slang).—1. Yes. +</p> +<p>2. (military.)—The old regulation musket. Considerable discussion has taken place +over the origin of this term. It first appears in Grose [1785], but the term ‘brown +musquet’ occurs at the beginning of the eighteenth century [1708]. The following suggested +derivation appeared in <i>N. and Q.</i> [2 S., v., p. 259]. <span class="sc">Brown Bess</span>, in its primary meaning, is equivalent to brown barrel. <i lang="nl">Bus</i>, in Dutch is the barrel of a gun; in Low Germ. <i lang="de">büsse</i>, in Swed. <i lang="sv">byssa.</i> Hence our English <span class="sc">Bess</span> as applied to a gun-barrel. (Conf. in Med. Latin—<i lang="la">bus-bas fragor scloporum et certaminis</i>.) The Dutch <i lang="nl">bus</i> appears often in composition. <i lang="nl">Hand-bus</i>, a pistol; literally a hand-barrel. <i lang="nl">Bus-schieter</i>, a gunner; literally a barrel-shooter. We have the Dutch <i lang="nl">bus</i> (a barrel) in three English names of fire-arms: namely arque<i>buse</i>, o<i>bus</i>, blunder<i>buss</i>. At the first of these three, <i>arquebuse</i>, we must look a little more closely would we trace the term <span class="sc">brown Bess</span> to its primæval source. The most formidable of cross-bows before fire-arms came into +general use, was one which shot a ball or pellet from a <i>barrel</i>. Specimens may yet be seen. Now this was the original <i>arquebuse</i> (<i>i.e.</i>, <i>arc-bus</i>, or <i>arc-et-bus</i>, bow and barrel). In process of time as gunpowder came into use, the <i>arc</i> disappeared, and the <i>buss</i> or <i>barrel</i> remained. Hence <i>arquebuse</i>, though it properly implies a bow fitted with a tube or barrel, came into use as +the old appellation of a soldier’s firelock. And hence the name of <span class="sc">Bess</span> (<i>bus</i>, <i lang="de">büsse</i> or <i lang="sv">byssa</i>), which the musket has borne more recently. <span class="sc">Bess</span> or <i>bus</i> is the last syllable of the old <i>arquebuse</i> or <i>harquebus</i> cut off for separate use, just as in the more recent instance of <i>bus</i> from <i>omnibus</i>. The barrels of firelocks were sometimes <span class="sc">browned</span>. Sometimes, however, they were required to be kept bright. <span class="pageNum" id="pb339">[<a href="#pb339">339</a>]</span>Could we ascertain who first in mercy ordained the browning of the barrel, we might +have some prospect of ascertaining the first introduction of the term <span class="sc">brown Bess</span>. Doubtless it was some hero of the fight, not of the field-day. For a further illustration +of the term <span class="sc">brown Bess</span>, it may be proper to remark that in Northumberland, according to Halliwell, a gun +is known by the not very elegant title of <i>black-bitch</i>. Now like <i lang="nl">bus</i> in Dutch, <i lang="de">büchse</i> is in German a gun-barrel. (‘<i lang="de">Büchse</i>, 2, <i lang="de">ein eisernes Rohr zum schiessen</i>,’ <i>an iron tube for shooting.</i>) May we not infer, therefore, that <i>black-bitch</i> was originally ‘<i>black büchse</i>,’ <i>i.e.</i>, <i>black barrel</i>, in conformity with <i>brown barrel</i> or <span class="sc">brown Bess</span>? ‘Formerly,’ says Zedler, ‘and before the invention of gunpowder, <i>arquebuse</i> signified <i>a bow with a barrel</i>’ (<i lang="de">Bogen Büchse</i>), which is the literal meaning of the word. Hotten, however, says it is much more +likely that the phrase is derived from the fact that ‘the soldier is wedded to his +weapon,’ and some colour is given to this alternative derivation by the fact that +the Dutch soldier, mindful of all the care he has to bestow upon his gun, calls it +his wife—<i lang="nl">mijn geweer is mijn vrouw</i>. French soldiers call their weapon <i lang="fr">la clarinette de cinq pieds</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Brown Bess</span>, a soldier’s firelock. +</p> +<p class="cit">1820. <span class="sc">Coombe</span>, <i>Dr. Syntax</i>, Tour II., ch. ii. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Religion Jack did never profess, </p> +<p class="line">Till he had shoulder’d old <span class="sc">Brown Bess</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1854. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>General Bounce</i>, ch. xi. The British soldier, with his clothing and accoutrements, …—not to mention +<span class="sc">brown Bess</span>, his mainstay and dependence—nothing punishes him so much as wet. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <i>Chambers’ Journal</i>, No. 720. Such may have been the case in the days of <span class="sc">brown Bess</span>, but a spinning conical ball from the Martini-Henry will pierce the largest crocodile. +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—A prostitute. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack-hack</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1631. <span class="sc">Dore</span>, <i>Polydorun</i>. Things proffered and easie to come by diminish themselves in reputation and price, +for how full of pangs and dotage is a wayling lover, for it may be some <span class="sc"><span class="corr" id="xd33e59207" title="Source: bbown">brown</span> Bessie</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To hug brown Bess</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (old).—To serve as a private soldier. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brown George</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. Explained by quotations. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>Ingoldsby L.</i>, 3 S. ‘Jerry Jarvis’s Wig.’ He looked disdainfully at the wig; it had once been a +comely jasey enough, of the colour of over-baked ginger-bread, one of the description +commonly known during the latter half of the last century by the name of a <span class="sc">brown George</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Globe</i>, 24 July, p. 2, col. 1. The King [George III.] wore a brown wig … known popularly +a century ago as <span class="sc">brown George</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A jug; generally of brown earthenware. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Black-jack</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Hughes</span>, <i>Tom Brown at Oxford</i>, ch. xxiv. He … stood behind his oak, holding his <span class="sc">brown George</span>, or huge earthenware receptacle, half full of dirty water, in which his bedmaker +had been washing up his tea-things. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <span class="sc">Besant and Rice</span>, <i>Chap. of the Fleet</i>, pt. II., ch. iii. His country brother might have been seen at the Crown, over a +pipe and a <span class="sc">brown George</span> full of strong October. +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—A coarse brown loaf; or hard biscuit. +</p> +<p class="cit">1653. <span class="sc">Urquhart</span>, <i>Rabelais</i>, bk. IV. Author’s Prologue. The devil of one musty crust of a <span class="sc">brown George</span> the poor boys had to scour their grinders with. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb340">[<a href="#pb340">340</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1693. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>Persius</i>, V., 215. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Cubb’d in a cabin, on a mattrass laid, </p> +<p class="line">On a <span class="sc">brown George</span>, with lousy swabbers fed. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Brownie</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—The polar bear. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brown Janet</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—A knapsack. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brown Joe</b>, <i>intj.</i> (rhyming slang).—No. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Brown Bess</span> for ‘yes.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brown-Papermen</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—Low gamblers.—<i>See</i> quot. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. I., p. 502. ‘But the Little Nick is what we call only ‘<span class="sc">brown papermen</span>,’ low gamblers—playing for pence, and 1s. being a great go.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brown Stone</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—Beer. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Swipes</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brown Talk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Conversation of an exceedingly ‘proper’ character, Quakerish. Compare <span class="sc">blue</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Browse</b>, <i>verb</i> (Marlborough and Royal Military Academy).—To idle; loll; take things easy. [A transferred +sense of the legitimate word—to eat lazily.] +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i>—<i>See</i> foregoing. ‘A <span class="sc">browse</span> morning,’ <i>i.e.</i>, one in which there is little work. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bruise</b>, <i>verb</i> (prize-fighters’).—1. To fight; box—generally with the idea of mauling. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Bruise along</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (hunting).—To pound along. +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <i>Dublin University Magazine</i>, II., 19. A majority of those who follow them have … no notion of hunting, but go +<span class="sc">bruising along</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <i>Anteros</i>, xii., p. 110. The baron hunted his five days … <span class="sc">bruising along</span> determinedly. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bruiser</b>, <i>subs.</i> (pugilistic).—1. A prize-fighter; a boxer. [From <span class="sc">bruise</span>, to maul, + <span class="sc">er</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1744. Nov. 26, <span class="sc">Walpole</span>, <i>Lett. to Mann</i> (1833), II., 57. He let into the pit great numbers of bear-garden <span class="sc">bruisers</span> (that is the term), to knock down everybody that hissed. +</p> +<p class="cit">1753. <span class="sc">Foote</span>, <i>Englishman in Paris</i>, Act i. Dick Daylight and Bob Bread-basket the <span class="sc">bruisers</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1830. <span class="sc">S. Warren</span>, <i>Diary of a Late Physician</i>, ch. xii. The man last named was short in stature, but of a square iron build; and +it needed only a glance at his posture to see he was a scientific, perhaps a thorough-bred +<span class="sc">bruiser</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846–48. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>V. Fair</i>, ch. xi. At college he pulled stroke-oar in the Christchurch boat, and had thrashed +all the best <span class="sc">bruisers</span> of the ‘town.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Philip</i>, ch. xlii. A jolly wag, a fellow of indifferent character, a frequenter of all the +ale-houses in the neighbourhood, and rather celebrated for his skill as a <span class="sc">bruiser</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Jas. Greenwood</span>, <i>Flyfaker’s Hotel</i>, in <i>Odd People in Odd Places</i>, p. 58. Nearly every one seemed to have some little job or other that was necessary +to be done at this almost last moment for the business of to-morrow; even one of the +two villanous-looking <span class="sc">bruisers</span> had. They were of the very lowest of the ‘rough’ type—broken-nosed, besotted, pimple-visaged, +and unwholesome-looking fellows, whose foul and blasphemous language seemed to pollute +the pestilent air of the place more than anything else that contributed thereto. +</p> +<p>2. (thieves’.)—A prostitute’s bully or fancy man. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Bully</span>. +</p> +<p>3. (common.)—One fond of fighting. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Chucker-out</span>, and next sense. +</p> +<p>4. (American.)—A generic name in large cities for a rowdy or bully. Sometimes, however, +the term has been limited in its application to a particular band <span class="pageNum" id="pb341">[<a href="#pb341">341</a>]</span>of ruffians. This was the case once in Baltimore. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bruising</b>, <i>verbal subs.</i> (prize-fighters’).—Fighting with the fists; boxing. +</p> +<p class="cit">1751. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Peregrine Pickle</i>, ch. c. The combatants were, in point of strength and agility, pretty equally matched; +but the jailer had been regularly trained to the art of <span class="sc">bruising</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Newcomes</i>, ch. x. At that time the Sunday newspapers contained many and many exciting reports +of boxing matches. <span class="sc">Bruising</span> was considered a fine manly old English custom. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Philip</i>, ch. xxxv. Mugford always persisted that he could have got the better of his great +hulking sub-editor, who did not know the use of his fists. In Mugford’s youthful time, +<span class="sc">bruising</span> was a fashionable art. +</p> +<p><i>Ppl. adj.</i> (hunting).—That pounds along. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <i>Anteros</i>, by the author of <i>Guy Livingstone</i>, I., p. 207. He was a good second-rate shot, and a fair, though by no means <span class="sc">bruising</span> rider to hounds. <i>Ibid<span>.</span></i>, p. 234. There were not a few admirers of his <span class="sc">bruising</span> style, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brum</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A counterfeit coin. [Contracted form of <span class="sc">Brummagem</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).] The term appears to have been given specially to some counterfeit groats [about +1691]. +</p> +<p>2. (common<span class="corr" id="xd33e59560" title="Source: .)">).</span>—Something counterfeit; not genuine. [A contraction of <span class="sc">Brummagem</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).] +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, July 9, p. 3, col. 2. One [earring] might be gold, and the other a <span class="sc">Brum</span>, though exactly alike. +</p> +<p>3. (common<span class="corr" id="xd33e59577" title="Source: .)">).</span>—Copper money struck by Boulton and Watt at their works at Soho, Birmingham. +</p> +<p class="cit">1787. <span class="sc">J. West</span>, <i>Trip to Richmond</i>, in Ashton’s <i>Eighteenth Century Waifs</i>, p. 133. My silver I chang’d for a handful of <span class="sc">Brums</span>. +</p> +<p>4. (common<span class="corr" id="xd33e59594" title="Source: .)">).</span>—An inhabitant of Birmingham. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 321. For Nottingham is a rare place for good eating; here you may buy anything +to eat of the commonest person, or in the commonest place with confidence that it +is good, clean, and wholesome, very different to dirty Birmingham and the <span class="sc">Brums</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i> (Winchester College).—Mean; poor; stingy. A superlative form is <span class="sc">dead brum</span>. [There are two derivations suggested; viz. (1) from <i>bruma</i> = winter; and (2) traditional in ‘College’ that it is an abbreviated form of <i lang="la">brevissimum</i>.] A popular French equivalent, used both as a substantive and adjective, is <i lang="fr">rapiat</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brumby</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Australian).—A wild horse. An Antipodean counterpart of the American ‘broncho.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brummagem</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—1. A nickname for Birmingham. +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <i>Cornhill</i>, Nov., p. 648. We have just touched for a rattling stake of sugar (<i>i.e.</i>, a large stake of money) at <span class="sc">Brum</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (old<span class="corr" id="xd33e59645" title="Source: .)">).</span>—Base money of various denominations has been so called—especially groats in 17th +century—hence its application to anything spurious or unreal—as in adjectival sense.—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Brummagem buttons</span> and <span class="sc">Brums</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1691. <span class="sc">G. Miege</span>, <i>New State Eng.</i>, 235. <span class="sc">Bromicham</span>, particularly noted a few years ago for the counterfeit groats made here, and from +hence dispersed all over the kingdom. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <span class="sc">B. Martin</span>, <i>Eng. Dict.</i>, 2 ed. <span class="sc">Bromidgham</span>, money of base metal. +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">Southey</span>, <i>The Doctor</i>, ch. cxl. He picked it up, and it proved to be a <span class="sc">Brummejam</span> of the coarsest and clumsiest kind, with a head on each side. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb342">[<a href="#pb342">342</a>]</span></p> +<p><i>Adj.</i>—Counterfeit; unreal; sham; showy; pretentious.—<i>See substantive</i>, senses 1 and 2. +</p> +<p class="cit">1637. <i>Calendar Dom. St. Papers</i>, 105. Those swords which he … pretends to be blades of his owne makeing are all <span class="sc">Bromedgham</span> blades and forraine blades. +</p> +<p class="cit">1686. <span class="sc">D’Urfey</span>, <i>Commonwealth of Women</i>, I., i. A <span class="sc">Brummingham</span>, son of a wh—, affront the Noble Admiral! +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <span class="sc">G. Eliot</span>, <i>Felix Holt</i>, ch. v. ‘The most of the middle class are as ignorant as the working people about +everything that doesn’t belong to their own <span class="sc">Brummagem</span> life.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Echo</i>, March 28, p. 1, col. 5. There is little of a <span class="sc">Brummagem</span> character about the municipal, parochial, and philanthropic work of Birmingham, whatever +we may think of some of her industrial productions. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brummagem Buttons</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Counterfeit coin. +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club</i>, I., p. 11. Bad silver, <span class="sc">Brummagem buttons</span>, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1873. <i>Saturday Review</i>, Nov., p. 661. They [<span class="sc">Brummagem buttons</span>] were marvellously inexpensive, and being such ingenious imitations of the spade +guineas and half-guineas then current that many Englishmen might have failed to detect +the difference; they must have been of very great ‘use to the Indians’ indeed. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brummish</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Doubtful; counterfeit. [From <span class="sc">Brum</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">ish</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1805. <span class="sc">G. Colman</span>, <i>John Bull Brit. Theat.</i>, 55. Two guineas … one seems light and t’other looks a little <span class="sc">brummish</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brums</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Stock Exchange).—London and North Western Stock. (Formerly London and Birmingham +Ry.). +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <span class="sc">Atkin</span>, <i>House Scraps</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">We kneel at the feet of our ‘Nancys,’ </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">We load them with ‘cottons’ and ‘tapes.’ </p> +<p class="line">If anything tickles our fancy, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">We buy them <span class="sc">Brums</span>, ‘Caleys’ or ‘Apes.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Brush.</b>—1. <i>See</i> <span class="sc">Brother of the brush</span>. +</p> +<p>2. <i>subs.</i> (old).—A hasty departure. For analogous terms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Amputate</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1750. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, bk. VIII., ch. xii. ‘I reminded him, not without blushing, of my having no money. +He answered, <span id="xd33e59828">“</span>That signifies nothing, score it behind the door, or make a bold <span class="sc">brush</span>, and take no notice.<span id="xd33e59834">”</span>’ +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—A person who decamps hastily, or who evades his creditors. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Brush</span> (v.) … also a canting term for one who goes off privately, or runs away from his +creditors, or with stolen goods. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (Christ’s Hospital).—1. To flog. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—To have sexual intercourse. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Ride</span>. +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—To run away; to decamp. Also to <span class="sc">brush off</span>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Amputate</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1690. B. E., <i>Dict. Cant. Crew</i>. <span class="sc">Brush</span>, to Fly or Run away. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1706. <span class="sc">E. Coles</span>, <i>Eng. Dict.</i> <span class="sc">Brush</span>, <i>c.</i>, run away. +</p> +<p class="cit">1764. <span class="sc">A. Murphy</span>, <i>No One’s Enemy but his Own</i>, Act ii. Rascal, says my Master, do as I bid you, and so off he <span class="sc">brushed</span> to the tune of an old song. +</p> +<p class="cit">1776. <span class="sc">Foote</span>, <i>Bankrupt</i>, I. But I must <span class="sc">brush</span> off, for here comes my lady. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>Ingoldsby Legends</i> (1877), 204. And one Sergeant Matcham had <span class="sc">brush’d</span> with the dibs. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>I. L.</i> (<i>Dead Drummer</i>). One of their drummers, and one Sergeant Matcham, Had <span class="sc">brush’d</span> with the dibs, and they never could catch’em. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brusher</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A full glass. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—<i>See</i> quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Brusher</span> (s.) … also one that gets or steals away privately. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb343">[<a href="#pb343">343</a>]</span></p> +<p>3. (common and schools’.)—A schoolmaster. +</p> +<p>4. (American.)—To humbug by flattery. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Brushing up a flat</span>, <i>phr.</i> (general).—Using mealy-mouthed words, or, to employ other slang equivalents, ‘laying +it on thick,’ ‘soft soaping one.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brute</b>, <i>subs.</i> (University).—<i>See</i> quot. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Brewer</span>, <i>Phrase and Fable</i>, s.v. <span class="sc">Brute</span>, in Cambridge University slang, is a man who has not yet matriculated. The play is +evident. A ‘man,’ in college phrase, is a collegian; and as matriculation is the sign +and seal of acceptance, a scholar before that ceremony is not a ‘man,’ and therefore +only a ‘<span class="sc">biped brute</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Brydport Dagger.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bridport dagger</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>B. T. I.</b>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—An abbreviation of <span class="sc">a big thing on ice</span>. These curtailments of slang phrases are not infrequent in America, and among others +may be mentioned <span class="sc">p.d.q.</span>; <span class="sc">o.k.</span>; <span class="sc">n.g.</span> and <span class="sc">q.k.</span>, etc. (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bub</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. Strong drink of any kind, but usually applied to malt liquor. [It is suggested +that this term is <span class="corr" id="xd33e60022" title="Source: onamatopoetic">onomatopoetic</span>, an imitation of the sound of drinking; others, however, incline to regard the word +as a derivative of the Latin <i lang="la">bib-ĕre</i>, to drink. Sometimes spelt <span class="sc">bubb</span>.] A common expression for eating and drinking is ‘to take <span class="sc">bub</span> and grub,’ a French equivalent for which is <i lang="fr">se caresser l’Angoulême</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>English Rogue</i>, pt. I., ch. iv., p. 36 (1874). In a short time these four return’d laden with <span class="sc">bub</span> and food. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">Dodsley</span>, <i>Collection of Poems</i>, III., 262. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Tho’ beef twice boil’d his meal, with P—n’s <span class="sc">bub</span>, </p> +<p class="line">And sixpence chang’d defrays the frugal club. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1839. <span class="sc">H. Ainsworth</span>, <i>Jack Sheppard</i>, ep. II., ch. xi. ‘Och! many a mug o’ <span class="sc">bubb</span> have I drained wi’ the landlord.’ +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A woman’s breast; generally used in the plural—<span class="sc">bubbies</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—A brother. +</p> +<p>4. (American.)—Also <span class="sc">bubby</span>. A term of affection applied to a little boy. [Said to have originated in Pennsylvania +from the German <i lang="de">Bube</i>.] Likewise used figuratively as a familiar mode of address. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">S. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>Roughing It</i>. The cayote turns smiles blandly upon him once more, and with a something about it +which seems to say: ‘Well, I shall have to tear myself away from you, <span class="sc">bub</span>—business is business, and it will not do for me to be fooling along this way all +day.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>San Francisco Weekly Examiner.</i> When she was ready to go home, she did so without carriage or baby. Shortly after +<span class="sc">bubby</span> kicked up high jinks, and the joker clerk was sent for to take him away. +</p> +<p>5. (old.)—An abbreviated form of <span class="sc">bubble</span>, <i>subs.</i> +</p> +<p class="cit">1690. B. E., <i>Dict. Cant. Crew</i>. <span class="sc">Bub</span> or <span class="sc">bubble</span>, one that is cheated. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (old).—1. To drink.—<i>See substantive.</i> +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>English Rogue</i>, pt. I., ch. vi., p. 54 (1874). We straight betook ourselves to the <i>Boozing Ken</i>; and having <span class="sc">bubb’d</span> rumly, we concluded an everlasting friendship. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—To bribe; to cheat. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bubble</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1719. <span class="sc">D’Urfey</span>, <i>Pills</i>, II., 54. Another makes Racing a Trade.… And many a Crimp Match has made, By <span class="sc">bubbing</span> another Man’s Groom. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb344">[<a href="#pb344">344</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bubber</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A hard drinker; a confirmed tippler. [From <span class="sc">bub</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) = drink + <span class="sc">er</span>.] A synonymous French term is <i lang="fr">un bibassier</i>, but for analogous terms generally, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Elbow crooker</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1653. <span class="sc">Middleton</span>, <i>Sp. Gipsy</i>, ii., 1. Though I am no mark in respect of a huge butt, yet I can tell you great +<span class="sc">bubbers</span> have shot at me. [There is a play in the word ‘butt.’] +</p> +<p class="cit">1674. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>Canting Acad.</i>, 191. A <span class="sc">bubber</span> … goes to the Alehouse, and steals there the Plate. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bubber</span>, … a great drinker. A thief that steals plate from publick houses. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—A drinking bowl. <i>Cf.</i>, derivation of previous sense. +</p> +<p class="cit">1690. B. E., <i>Dict. Cant. Crew</i>. <span class="sc">Bubber</span>, a drinking Bowl; also a great Drinker, and he that used to steal Plate from Publick-houses. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bubber</span>, a drinking bowl, etc. +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—A public house thief.—<i>See</i> quotation 1690, sense 2; also mentioned by Grose [1785]. +</p> +<p>4. (American.)—A nickname for an old woman with large pendulous breasts. Rarely heard. +</p> +<p class="cit">1848. <span class="sc">Bartlett</span>, <i>Americanisms</i>. <span class="sc">Bubber.</span> A stout or stoutly mammalated old woman. Used in Salem, Mass., in 1820, and since. +‘<span class="sc">Bubber</span> Jones.’ (Fr. <i lang="fr">poitron</i>, old woman; Old Fr. <i lang="fr">pect. poitron</i>; Lat. <i lang="la">pectus</i>, the breast.) +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bubbies</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A woman’s breasts. An old term of which the derivation is somewhat doubtful, +though it may be noted that the ancient cant has <span class="sc">bub</span> in the sense of ‘to drink,’ and also as an abbreviated form of <span class="sc">bubby</span>. Arber says that ‘bu bu’ is the cry of a child needing its mother’s milk.—For synonyms, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Dairies</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1686. <span class="sc">D’Urfey</span>, <i>New Poems</i> (1690), 206. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The Ladies here may without Scandal shew, </p> +<p class="line">Face or white <span class="sc">bubbies</span>, to each ogling Beau. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1693. <span class="sc">Congreve</span>, <i>Old Batchelor</i>, Act v., Sc. 7. Did not her eyes twinkle, and her mouth water? Did not she pull up +her little <span class="sc">bubbies</span>? +</p> +<p class="cit">1712. <span class="sc">Arbuthnot</span>, <i>Hist. of John Bull</i>, pt. III., ch. viii. ‘To see a handsome, brisk, genteel, young fellow so much governed +by a doating old woman! Why don’t you go and suck the <span class="sc">bubby</span>?’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1715. <span class="sc">Vanbrugh</span>, <i>Country House</i>, II., v. He talked to me of you, and said you had the charmingest <span class="sc">bubbies</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">Dodsley</span>, <i>Collection of Poems</i>, III., 191. And snowy <span class="sc">bubbies</span> pull’d above the stays. +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <span class="sc">B. Martin</span>, <i>Eng. Dict.</i>, 2 ed. <span class="sc">Bubbys</span>, a woman’s breasts. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bubbing</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Drinking; tippling. +</p> +<p class="cit">1678. <i>Poor Robin’s Char. of Scold</i>, 6. She clamours at him so long … which makes him seek <span class="sc">Bubbing</span>-schools to hide himself in from her fury. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bubble</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A dupe; gull; also <span class="sc">caravan</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); and <span class="sc">rook</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). Grose thinks from the party cheated being like an air-<span class="sc">bubble</span> filled with words which are only wind instead of real property. Also apparently used +of anything not genuine. Applied to persons, it is older than appears from Murray. +</p> +<p class="cit">1598. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>All’s Well</i>, iii., vi., 5. <i>Sec. Lord.</i> On my life, my lord, a <span class="sc">bubble</span>. <i>Ber.</i> Do you think I am so far deceived in him? +</p> +<p class="cit">1688. <span class="sc">Shadwell</span>, <i>Sq. of Alsatia</i>, III., in wks. (1720) IV., 62. This kinsman a most silly <span class="sc">bubble</span> first, and afterwards a betrayer of young heirs. +</p> +<p class="cit">1697. <span class="sc">Vanbrugh</span>, <i>Provoked Wife</i>, V., iii. If her conduct has put a trick upon her virtue, her virtue’s the <span class="sc">bubble</span>, but her husband’s the loser. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb345">[<a href="#pb345">345</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1711. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Conduct of the Allies</i>. We are thus become the dupes and <span class="sc">bubbles</span> of Europe. +</p> +<p class="cit">1712. <span class="sc">Arbuthnot</span>, <i>History of John Bull</i>, pt. II., ch. iii. He has been my <span class="sc">bubble</span> [tool] these twenty years; and to my certain knowledge, understands no more of his +own affairs than a child in swaddling clothes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1750. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, bk. I., ch. vii. ‘This would be to own herself the meer tool and <span class="sc">bubble</span> of the man.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1788. <span class="sc">G. A. Stevens</span>, <i>Adv. of a Speculist</i>, I., 69. He persuades his <span class="sc">bubble</span>, that he will insure him a certain safe way of getting a sum of money. +</p> +<p class="cit">1795. <span class="sc">R. Cumberland</span>, <i>The Jew</i>, Act iii., Sc. 2. If he attempts to raise money upon expectancies, be at their peril +who are fools enough to trust him: No prudent man will be his <span class="sc">bubble</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1805. <span class="sc">G. Barrington</span>, <i>New London Spy</i> (4 ed.), p. 24. The shame of being thought a <span class="sc">bubble</span>, and exposed to the town, frequently prevents gentlemen from making use of the statute +provided in such cases. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (old).—To cheat; humbug; delude as with <span class="sc">bubbles</span>; to overreach. <i>Cf.</i>, <i>substantive sense</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1664. <span class="sc">Etheridge</span>, <i>Comical Revenge</i>, II., iii., in wks. (1704), 24. I believe he’s gone down to Receive money; ’twere +an excellent design to <span class="sc">bubble</span> him. +</p> +<p class="cit">1685. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>Prol. to Albion and Albanius</i>, 23. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Freedom and zeal have choused you o’er and o’er; </p> +<p class="line">Pray give us leave to <span class="sc">bubble</span> you once more. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1711. <i>Spectator</i>, No 89. That she has <span class="sc">bubbled</span> him out of his youth … and that he verily believes she will drop him in his old age, +if she can find her account in another. +</p> +<p class="cit">1752. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Amelia</i>, bk. XI., ch. iv. He … actually <span class="sc">bubbled</span> several of their money by undertaking to do them services, which, in reality, were +not within his power. +</p> +<p class="cit">1777. <span class="sc">Sheridan</span>, <i>Trip to Scarborough</i>, Act ii. Help the gentleman with a chair, and carry him to my house presently—that’s +the properest place—[<i>aside</i>]—to <span class="sc">bubble</span> him out of his money. +</p> +<p class="cit">1788. <span class="sc">G. A. Stevens</span>, <i>Adv. of a Speculist</i>, I., 75. And this was the language which the pretenders to the Philosopher’s Stone +used to <span class="sc">bubble</span> their pigeons with. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">McCarthy</span>, <i>Own Times</i>, III., xli., 235. Some critics declared … that the French Emperor had <span class="sc">bubbled</span> him [Mr. Cobden]. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bubbleable</b>, <i>adj.</i> (old).—That can be duped; gullible. [A very rare form from <span class="sc">bubble</span>, to cheat, + <span class="sc">able</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1669. <i>Nicker Nicked</i>, in <i>Hart. Misc.</i> (ed. Park), II., 109. If the winner be <span class="sc">bubbleable</span>, they will insinuate themselves into his acquaintance, and civilly invite him to +drink a glass of wine; wheedle him into play, and win all his money. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bubble and Squeak</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (common).—A compound of cold meat fried up with potatoes and greens. [From the hissing +sound produced by the frying; originally nautical.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bubble and squeak</span>, beef and cabbage fried together; it is so called from its bubbling up and squeaking +whilst over the fire. +</p> +<p class="cit">1786–89. <span class="sc">Wolcot</span> (‘P. Pindar’), <i>Lousiad</i>, ch. i., line 366. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Such is the sound (the simile’s not weak) </p> +<p class="line">Form’d by what mortals <span class="sc">bubble</span> call, and <span class="sc">squeak</span>, </p> +<p class="line">When ’midst the frying-pan, in accents savage, </p> +<p class="line">The beef so sorely quarrels with the cabbage. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1853. <span class="sc">Lytton</span>, <i>My Novel</i>, bk. VIII., ch. viii. ‘Rank and title! <span class="sc">bubble and squeak!</span> No, not half so good as <span class="sc">bubble and squeak</span>. English beef and good cabbage.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bubble Buff</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A bailiff. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bubble Company</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A swindling association, enterprise or project. [From <span class="sc">bubble</span>, to cheat, + company.] The South Sea <span class="sc">Bubble</span> will occur to mind in this connection. +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <span class="sc">B. Martin</span>, <i>Eng. Dict.</i> (2 ed.). <span class="sc">Bubble</span> … 5 (in Commerce), a cant <span class="pageNum" id="pb346">[<a href="#pb346">346</a>]</span>name given to certain projects for raising money on imaginary grounds. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Hawley Smart</span>, <i>Social Sinners</i>, ch. xix. ‘My inheritance disappears as if it had been invested in a <span class="sc">bubble company</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bubbled</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (old).—Gulled; deceived; befooled. [From <span class="sc">bubble</span>, to cheat, + <span class="sc">ed</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>a.</i> 1683. <span class="sc">Oldham</span>, <i>Wks. and Rem.</i> (1686), 66. <span class="sc">Bubled</span> Monarchs are at first beguil’d … at last depos’d, and kill’d. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1701. <span class="sc">Defoe</span>, <i>True Born Englishman</i>, Introd. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Who shall this <span class="sc">bubbled</span> nation disabuse, </p> +<p class="line">While they, their own felicities refuse? </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1889. <i>Gentleman’s Mag.</i>, June, p. 598. Towards the end of the century [xvii] a person easily gulled, or <span class="sc">bubbled</span> was known as a ‘caravan,’ but earlier the term ‘rook,’ which is now restricted to +a cheat or sharper, appears to have been applied to the person cheated. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bubbling Squeak</b>, <i>subs.</i> (army).—Hot soup. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bubbly Jock</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old Scotch).—1. A turkey-cock; a ‘gobbler.’ [Probably in allusion to the cry of +the bird.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bubbly jock</span>, a turkey-cock. +</p> +<p class="cit">1843. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Irish Sketch Book</i>, ch. xv. He took but one glass of water to that intolerable deal of <span class="sc">bubbly jock</span>.… Three turkey-wings and a glass of water. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">Besant and Rice</span>, <i>Son of Vulcan</i>, pt. II., ch. xviii. Puffing his cheeks like some infuriated <span class="sc">bubbly jock</span> in a stable-yard. +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A stupid boaster. +</p> +<p>3. (popular.)—A pert, conceited, pragmatical fellow; a prig; a cad. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">G. A. Sala</span>, <i>Living London</i>, p. 113. Mr. Benjamin Bunny (Mr. J. L. Toole) is the good-natured husband of a pretty +young wife (Miss Winifred Emery). Mr. Bunny is, to use a Scotticism, ‘sair owerhanded,’ +not by a ‘<span class="sc">bubbly jock</span>,’ but by his wife’s aunt. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bubby.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bub</span> and <span class="sc">Bubbies</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bucco</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—A dandy. [A corruption of <span class="sc">buck</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buck</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. In the first instance a man of spirit or gaiety of conduct; later a +fop, a dandy. [A transferred sense of <span class="sc">buck</span>, the male of the fallow deer.] In the form ‘old <span class="sc">buck</span>’ it is merely a familiar mode of address. The epithet, as applied to a man about +town, is somewhat obsolete; <span class="sc">masher</span>, <span class="sc">dude</span>, and <span class="sc">swell</span> having taken its place. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blood</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1725. <i>New Cant. Dict.</i> <span class="sc">Buck</span>, as a bold <span class="sc">buck</span>, is sometimes used to signify a forward daring Person of either Sex. +</p> +<p class="cit">1752. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Amelia</i>, bk. X., ch. ii. A large assembly of young fellows, whom they call <span class="sc">bucks</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846–48. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>V. Fair</i>, ch. vi. She had sate by him on the box of his open carriage (a most tremendous <span class="sc">buck</span> he was, as <span class="corr" id="xd33e60855" title="Source: hesat">he sat</span> there, serene, in state, driving his greys). +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Answers</i>, Feb. 9. The ancient <span class="sc">buck</span> was last seen (at the age of eighty-four) wearing a wig, a pair of stays, ‘plumpers,’ +rouge, and padding, and he daily anointed his face with a compound called ‘skin-tightener.’ +‘Skin-tightener’ removes wrinkles, and after the face has been washed with ‘bloom +of roses,’ the wearer can strut forth with the consciousness that all the world takes +him for a quarter of a century younger than he is. +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—An unlicensed cabdriver. Apparently also applied to a sham fare.—<i>See</i> last quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. III., p. 362. The long-day men are the parties who mostly employ the <span class="sc">bucks</span> … they are glad to avail themselves of the services of a <span class="sc">buck</span> for some hours at the end of the <span class="pageNum" id="pb347">[<a href="#pb347">347</a>]</span>day. <i>Ibid.</i> The <span class="sc">bucks</span> are unlicensed cabdrivers, who are employed by those who have a license to take charge +of the cab while the regular drivers are at their meals or enjoying themselves. +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <i>Morning Star</i>, 14 Sept. What is the prisoner? Constable: He is a <span class="sc">buck</span>, who hangs about an omnibus stand. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Daily News</i>, 5 October, 5, 4. At Bow Street something was further heard of the <span class="sc">buck</span>. This person … is the sham fare whom a cabby drives past the police in order to get +up to the theatre doors out of his proper turn, and so increase his chance of securing +a legitimate fare. +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—A sixpence. [Thought to be a corruption of <span class="sc">fyebuck</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).] The word is rarely used by itself, but generally denotes the sixpence attached +to shillings in reference to cost, as, ‘three and a <span class="sc">buck</span>,’ three shillings and sixpence. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Bender</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Household Words</i>, June 20, p. 155. ‘<span class="sc">Buck</span>’ is most likely a corruption of ‘fyebuck,’ a slang name for sixpence, which is now +almost, if not altogether, obsolete. +</p> +<p>4. (schoolboys’.)—A large marble. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Alley</span>, <span class="sc">Bonce</span>, <span class="sc">Mivey</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Household Words</i>, June 20, p. 155. Readers whose school-days are still green in their memories will +also recognise in <span class="sc">buck</span> the name for the large marble once dear to their boyish hearts. +</p> +<p>5. (American.)—A term used in <span class="sc">poker</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Tiger</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i> (American University).—At Princeton College anything which is of an intensive degree, +good, excellent, pleasant or agreeable, is called <span class="sc">buck</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (American).—1. To oppose; to run counter to. [Possibly a corruption of butt, or from +<span class="sc">buck</span> as applied to a horse.—<i>See</i> sense 2.] +</p> +<p>2. (Western American.)—As applied to horses this term is used to describe the action +of plunging forward and throwing the head to the ground in an effort to unseat the +rider—a motion of which probably no domesticated beast is capable, aside from the +Texan miserable and treacherous species of horse. A raw hand thus relates his experience:—‘When +I was told how hard he could <span class="sc">buck</span>, I only laughed, my impression being that no pony standing on four legs could throw +me off. I mounted my new horse, and waving my bran new hat about my head, galloped +away in a dignified style. Suddenly the horse stopped. His ears went back, and his +hind legs went between his front. The motion was a curious one. But I did not fall. +Realizing that the man on his back could ride a little bit, the pony got right down +to business. My stomach seemed to fly up into my mouth, and millions of stars floated +about my head. I am not prepared to state what kind of hold the pony got on me, but +I went sprawling on the ground, my nose making an irrigating ditch. It was all done +not more than one hundred yards from where my girl was standing. I stuck on well, +however, as the saddle, blanket, gun and bridle came off with me. The wild yell that +greeted my exploit nearly drove me mad. While I spit the dirt and curses out of my +mouth, I thought that if I had that pony back I’d break him in or break my head. It +ran out on the prairie and joined the Government herd. When an old-timer tried to +fix <span class="pageNum" id="pb348">[<a href="#pb348">348</a>]</span>things for me in front of my girl by saying, “It’s no disgrace, pardnr, that horse +can <span class="sc">buck</span> off a porus plaster,” I thanked him from the bottom of my heart.’ +</p> +<p>3. (commercial.)—A variant of to <span class="sc">cook</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), as applied to accounts. +</p> +<p>4. (Western American.)—To play against the bank, usually ‘to <span class="sc">buck</span> the tiger.’—<i>See</i> following. +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">Bret Harte</span>, <i>Gabriel Conroy</i>, p. 375. I don’t like your looks at all. I’d <span class="sc">buck</span> against any bank you ran, all night. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Bret Harte</span>, <i>Brown of Calaveras</i>. (Tales of the Arg., p. 81). Why don’t you say you want to <span class="sc">buck</span> agin’ faro? +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Hotel Mail.</i> +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">A man may hunt the wildest game </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Along the Nile or the Niger, </p> +<p class="line xd33e5088">In woods or ranch; </p> +<p class="line">But he will find the sport most tame </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Compared with <span class="sc">bucking</span> the tiger </p> +<p class="line xd33e5088">At dear Long Branch. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">5. (Western American.)—To put forth one’s whole energy. [An extension of meaning from +sense 4.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <i>San Antonio Paper.</i> ‘You’ll have to <span class="sc">buck</span> at it like a whole team, gentlemen, or you won’t hear the whistle near your diggings +for many a year.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To run a buck</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (old Irish).—To poll a bad vote at an election.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Buck or fight the tiger</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (American).—To gamble. [There are two derivations suggested:—(1) that the phrase +is derived from the parti-coloured division or stripes on a gambling table; (2) that +it is of Chinese origin. A favourite figure of one of the Chinese gods of gambling +is a <span class="sc">tiger</span> standing on his hind-feet, and grasping a large cash in his mouth or his paws. Sometimes +the image is made of wood or clay, or drawn on a piece of paper or board. The title +of the beast, His Excellency the Grasping Cash <span class="sc">Tiger</span>, is frequently written on a piece of paper, and placed in the gambling rooms between +two bunches of mock-money suspended under the table or on the wall behind it. This +figure is the sign for a gambling house: ‘The <span class="sc">Fighting Tiger</span>.’<span class="corr" id="xd33e61070" title="Not in source">]</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Daily Inter-Ocean</i>, Feb. 14. Last night and to-day they have succeeded in placing under arrest six of +the gaming-house keepers of the city and subpœnaed thirty citizens as witnesses, among +whom are said to be prominent city officials and business men. The affair has caused +a good deal of talk already, and if reports are anywhere near true, it will create +a great sensation when the cases are called, and more than one unsuspecting wife will +have her eyes opened to the fact that the wicked <span class="sc">tiger</span>, and not legitimate business has been detaining her husband out so late at night. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buck Bait</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—Bail given by a confederate. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bait</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buck Down</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (Winchester College).—To be sorry; unhappy. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Buck up</span> and <span class="sc">Bucksome</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bucked.</b> <span class="sc">To be bucked</span>, <i>verb</i> (Uppingham).—To be tired. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Buck up</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buckeen</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Irish).—A bully.—<i>Grose.</i> Properly a young man of the poorer aristocracy. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bucket</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—An anonymous letter. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (general).—1. To ride hard; not to spare one’s beast. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb349">[<a href="#pb349">349</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">Whyte Melville</span>, <i>Kate Coventry</i>, ch. xi. ‘I had rather give Brilliant a good <span class="sc">bucketing</span>’ [Aunt Horsingham shuddered—I knew she would, and used the word on purpose] ‘over +an even heath or a line of grass, than go bodkin in a chariot.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">Yates</span>, <i>Broken to Harness</i>, II., p. 218. There’s room in the Row to give him [the horse] a very good <span class="sc">bucketing</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Tottenham</span>, <i>C. Villars</i>, I., 243. <span class="sc">Bucketing</span> his wretched horse home to Cambridge. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">Hawley Smart</span>, <i>From Post to Finish</i>, p. 342. ‘Ten thousand pardons, Dollie, dearest; but I only got your message an hour +or so ago, and am so busy I couldn’t get here before. As it is I have had to <span class="sc">bucket</span> my hack unmercifully.<span>’</span> +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—To cheat; ruin; deceive. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dict.</i>, s.v. <span class="sc">To bucket</span> a person is synonymous with putting him in the well. +</p> +<p class="cit">1828. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Diary</i>, in <i>Lockhart</i> (1839), ix., 253. Thurtell … must in slang phrase have <span class="sc">bucketed</span> his palls. +</p> +<p>3. (rowing.)—To take the water unfairly—with a scoop at the beginning of the stroke +instead of a steady even pull throughout. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Besant and Rice</span>, <i>Golden Butterfly</i>, ch. xv., p. 130. He was not so straight in the back as an Oxford stroke; and he +<span class="sc">bucketed</span> about a good deal, but he got along. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To give the bucket</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To dismiss from one’s employment; to ‘send a person about his business.’—<i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bag and Sack</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Mrs. Gaskell</span>, <i>Sylvia’s Lovers</i>, ch. xxi. He were sore put about because Hester had <span class="sc">gi’en him the bucket</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To kick the bucket</span>, <i>phr.</i> (general).—To die. [The bucket here is thought to refer to a Norfolk term for a pulley.] +When pigs are killed they are hung by their hind legs on a <span class="sc">bucket</span>.—For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Aloft</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bucket</span>; <span class="sc">to kick the bucket</span>; to die. +</p> +<p class="cit">1796. <span class="sc">Wolcot</span> (‘P. Pindar’), <i>Tristia</i>, wks. (1812) V., 242. Pitt has <span class="sc">kicked the bucket</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1840. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Poor Jack</i>, xxx. He drained it dry … and <span class="sc">kicked the bucket</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Kingsley</span>, <i>Alton Locke</i>, ch. ii. ‘Fine him a pot’ roared one, ‘for talking about <span class="sc">kicking the bucket</span>. He’s a nice young man to keep a cove’s spirits up, and talk about a short life and +a merry one.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1876(?). <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘Ten Little Niggers.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Eight little niggers never heard of heav’n, </p> +<p class="line">One <span class="sc">kicked the bucket</span>, and then there were seven. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1889. <i>Answers</i>, July 27, p. 141, col. 3. The high-school girl explained to her particular friend +yesterday that He <span class="sc">kicked the bucket</span> was slang, and that the polite expression was, ‘He propelled his pedal extremities +with violence against a familiar utensil used for the transportation of water and +other fluids.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bucket Afloat</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming slang).—A coat. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bucket Shop</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—1. Primarily a petty stock gambling den carried on in opposition to regular +exchange business, and usually of a very doubtful character. The <i>New York World</i> recently investigated the whole question, and gave some very interesting details +as to the many tortuous ways of these crooked corners of the money world. The conclusion +arrived at was that Wall Street and its vicinity did not contain a single ‘square +and honest’ <span class="sc">bucket-shop</span>; all their dealings were nothing but ‘a brace gambling game.’ By <span class="pageNum" id="pb350">[<a href="#pb350">350</a>]</span>their schemes the customer had ‘not the ghost of a chance to win.’ Their quotations +were obtained surreptitiously, and, in handling them, the <span class="sc">bucket-shop</span> keepers in several ways take unfair advantage of their clients. The term <span class="sc">bucket shop</span> has become common in England, but, fortunately for the community at large, no comparison +can be drawn between the establishments known by that name in England, and those which +flourish in America under the same title, though in very truth the proceedings of +some of the former are scandalous enough. [Possibly from <span class="sc">bucket</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), to cheat, + <span class="sc">shop</span>. As an alternative derivation, the ‘bucket’ into which the tape falls may be suggested.<span class="corr" id="xd33e61348" title="Not in source">]</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Daily News</i>, 14 April, 7, 1. Mr. Charles Fisher said that he carried on business as an agent.… +He did Stock Exchange business, for clients. Mr. Besley: Commonly called a <span class="sc">bucket shop</span>, I think. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Missouri Republican</i>, Feb. 12. New York, Feb. 11.—(Special).—Inspector Brynes was seized with another +spasm of indignation against the <span class="sc">bucket-shops</span> this morning, and, accompanied by detectives and a squad of officers, he swooped +down upon the lairs of these enemies of the Stock Exchange that abound on Lower Broadway +and New Street. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>, 12 Nov., p. 3, col. 1. ‘The tape is credited with fostering gambling.’ ‘Well, we +know that there are <span class="sc">bucket-shops</span>, but we have for some time refused to entertain any proposal for a machine if there +is the least prospect of its being used for <span class="sc">bucket-shop</span> purposes. There is gambling, of course, but it is unfair to say that the tape is +responsible for it. The tape was not originated for that purpose, but in order to +inform the public, through the newspapers or otherwise, how securities were going, +and it does that. In practice it serves as a check between client and broker, and +broker and jobber.’ +</p> +<p>2. Also applied generally to low groggeries; lottery offices; gambling dens, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buck Face</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A cuckold; one who in French slang is said to be <i lang="fr">un loger rue du Croissant</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buck Fitch</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—An old roué; a lecherous old man. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buckhara</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A name given in California to a cattle-driver or cowboy. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buckhorse</b>, <i>subs.</i> (pugilistic).—A smart blow or box on the ear. [Derived from the name of a celebrated +‘bruiser’ of that name. <span class="sc">Buckhorse</span> was a man who either possessed or professed insensibility to pain, and who would +for a small sum allow anyone to strike him with the utmost force on the side of the +face. His real name was John Smith, and he fought in public 1732–46.] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> (For the blow itself.) <i lang="fr">Une boffete</i> (from the old word <i>buffet</i>); <i lang="fr">une bouffe</i>; <i lang="fr">une châtaigne</i>; <i lang="fr">une accolade</i>; <i lang="fr">une pamure</i>. To receive a <span class="sc">buckhorse</span>, <i lang="fr">encaisser un soufflet</i>; to give a <span class="sc">buckhorse</span>; <i lang="fr">donner la savate</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <i>Blackwood’s Mag.</i>, II., p. 463 (the Public Schools’ Report, 1864—Westminster School). One of the Seniors +informs us that the common punishment was <span class="sc">buckhorsing</span>. ‘That was boxing the ears, was it?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘<span class="sc">Buckhorsing</span> was rather severe, was it not?’ etc. ‘I got <span class="sc">buckhorsed</span> pretty often.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Lord Albemarle</span>, <i>Fifty Years of my Life</i>, quoted in <i>Temple Bar</i>, August, 1884, p. 517. He then felled me to the ground by a swinging <span class="sc">buckhorse</span> on my right cheek. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb351">[<a href="#pb351">351</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Buckish</b>, <i>adj.</i> (old).—Foppish; dandyish. [From <span class="sc">buck</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">ish</span>.] Now colloquial. +</p> +<p class="cit">1782. <span class="sc">D’Arblay</span>, <i>Diary, etc.</i> (1876), i., 463. A <span class="sc">buckish</span> kind of young man of fashion. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Wolcot</span> (‘P. Pindar’), <i>Apolog. Postscript to Ode upon Ode</i>, in wks. (Dublin, 1795), vol. I., p. 365. Did not good Nathan tell that <span class="sc">buckish</span> youth, David the King, that he stole sheep? +</p> +<p class="cit">1789. <span class="sc">Geo. Parker</span>, <i>Life’s Painter</i>, p. 57. Having beat the rounds (as <span class="sc">buckish</span> spirits phrase it) of that bustling microcoser, the British metropolis, for eighteen +months. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">Coombe</span>, <i>Dr. Syntax, Picturesque</i>, ch. xvii. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">A <span class="sc">buckish</span> blade, who kept a horse, </p> +<p class="line">To try his fortune on the course. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1858. <span class="sc">G. Eliot</span>, <i>Janet’s Repentance</i>, ch. v. ‘I’ve made him as neat as a new pin this morning, and he says the Bishop +will think him too <span class="sc">buckish</span> by half.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1873. <span class="sc">W. D. Howells</span>, <i>A Chance Acquaintance</i>, ch. xiii. A very <span class="sc">buckish</span> young fellow, with a heavy black moustache and black eyes, who wore a jaunty round +hat, blue checked trousers, a white vest, and a morning-coat of blue diagonals. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buck-Jump</b>, <i>subs.</i> (stable).—A jump made in <span class="sc">buck</span> (<i>q.v.</i>, <i>verb</i>, sense 2) fashion. +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">G. A. Lawrence</span>, <i>Guy Livingstone</i>, ch. ix. The instant the chestnut was mounted he reared, and indulged in two or three +‘<span class="sc">buck-jumps</span>’ that would have made a weaker man tremble for his backbone. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buckle</b>, <i>verb</i>, <i>trans.</i> and <i>intrans.</i> (colloquial).—1. To unite or be united in wedlock—a humorous term. For synonyms, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Splice</span>. French thieves call such a union <i lang="fr">l’amadouage</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1693. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>Juvenal</i>, vi., 37. Is this an age to <span class="sc">buckle</span> with a bride? +</p> +<p class="cit">1751. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Peregrine Pickle</i>, ch. lxvii. Who … declared himself well satisfied with the young man’s addresses, +and desired that they might be <span class="sc">buckled</span> with all expedition. +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>The Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. xxxii. +</p> +<p class="cit">‘<span class="sc">Buckle</span> them, my Lord Bishop, as fast as you can.… +</p> +<p class="cit"><span id="xd33e61620">‘</span>The Bishop accordingly opened his book and commenced the marriage ceremony.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">A. Trollope</span>, <i>Three Clerks</i>, ch. xlvi. ‘We could have half a dozen married couples all separating, getting rid +of their ribs and <span class="sc">buckling</span> again, helter-skelter, every man to somebody else’s wife.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buckle-Beggar</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A Fleet prison ‘clergyman’; one who celebrated marriage ceremonies therein; +thence, one who celebrated irregular marriages; a hedge priest; one who undertook +similar offices for gypsies and tramps—a <span class="sc">buckle the beggars</span>.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Couple-beggar</span>. [Of Scotch derivation, but <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Buckle</span>, <i>verb</i>, sense 1.] +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1700. <span class="sc">Ld. Fountainhill</span>, <i>Diary</i>, in Larwood, <i>Bk. Cleric. Anecd.</i>, 294. He after turn’d a <span class="sc">buckle-beggar</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, one who married without license. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. xvii. (II., p. 86). A hedge parson, or <span class="sc">buckle-beggar</span>, as that order of priesthood has been irreverently termed. <i>Ibid</i>, ch. xxvii. (III., p. 22). Dr. R., who <span class="sc">buckles beggars</span> for a tester [sixpence] and a dram of Geneva. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buckled</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (thieves’).—Arrested; taken into custody; ‘scragged.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buckle Down</b>, <i>verb</i> (common).—To ‘settle down’; to become reconciled to; a variant of to ‘<span class="sc">knuckle down</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">Jos. Hatton</span>, <i>Clytie</i>, bk. III., ch. iv. ‘But you do not <span class="sc">buckle down</span> to your position,’ said Cuffing … ‘you wrangle, you higgle.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buckler</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—A collar. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">All-rounder</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buckles</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Fetters of any kind. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Darbies</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb352">[<a href="#pb352">352</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Buckle To</b>, <i>verb</i> (familiar).—To undertake; grapple with; ‘slip in’; work vigorously. +</p> +<p class="cit">1557. <span class="sc">Tusser</span>, <i>Husbandrie</i>, ch. xcvi., st. 84, p. 187 (E.D.S.). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Then purchase some pelfe, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">by fiftie and three: </p> +<p class="line">or <span class="sc">buckle</span> thy selfe, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">a drudge for to bee. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1663. <span class="sc">Butler</span>, <i>Hudibras</i>, pt. I., ch. ii., l. 926. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">And fitting it for sudden fight, </p> +<p class="line">Straight drew it up, t’attack the Knight, </p> +<p class="line">For getting up on stump and huckle, </p> +<p class="line">He with the foe began to <span class="sc">buckle</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1712. <span class="sc">Arbuthnot</span>, <i>Hist. of John Bull</i>, pt. IV., ch. viii. At last Esquire South <span class="sc">buckled to</span>, to assist his friend Nic. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">James Payn</span>, <i>Thicket than Water</i>, ch. xxvii. ‘Of course it could never have been taken up as a serious occupation; +the way you <span class="sc">buckled to</span> at it, as I told Mr. Payton, was something amazing.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Modern Society</i>, 19 Oct., p. 1302. (‘How the Nobility live in Germany.’) Though, as a rule, courteous +to ladies at dinner, when a course is served all <span class="sc">buckle to</span>, and conversation is at an end. Each gentleman forgets his fair neighbour, and minds +only number one. Between the courses, when nothing better is on, they converse, and +always everything is served <i lang="fr">à la Russe</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bucksome</b>, <i>adj.</i> (Winchester College).—Happy; in a state of ‘<span class="sc">buck-uppishness</span>.’—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Buck-up</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buck Up</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (Winchester College).—To be glad; pleased. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Buck down</span>. The usual expression is ‘Oh <span class="sc">buck up</span>,’ a phrase which at Westminster School would have a very different meaning, namely, +‘exert yourself.’ At Uppingham <span class="sc">to be bucked</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) is to be tired. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Budge</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A pickpocket; a general thief.—<i>See</i> quots., and for synonyms, <span class="sc">Area-sneak</span> and <span class="sc">Thieves</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>English Rogue</i>, pt. I., ch. v., p. 48 (1874). <span class="sc">Budge</span>, one that steals cloaks. +</p> +<p class="cit">1674. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>Canting Acad.</i>, 95. The <span class="sc">Budge</span> … his employment is in the dark of the Evening, to go into any door that he seeth +open, and … take whatever next cometh to hand. +</p> +<p>2. (thieves’.)—Also called <span class="sc">sneaking budge</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). In more modern times an accomplice who gains access to a building during the day +for the purpose of being locked in. When night comes he is thus easily able to admit +his fellow thieves. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Area-sneak</span>, and <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Standing bridge</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1752. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Amelia</i>, bk. I., ch. iii. ‘I find you are some sneaking <span class="sc">budge</span> rascal’ [cant term for pilfering]. +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—Drink; liquor.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span>. [Thought to be a corruption of <span class="sc">booze</span>.] There are several derivatives—<span class="sc">Budgy</span>, ‘drunk’; <span class="sc">Budging-ken</span>, ‘a public house’; <span class="sc">Cove of the budging-ken</span>, ‘a publican’; <span class="sc">Budger</span>, ‘a drunkard’—all of which <i>see</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">D. Haggart</span>, <i>Life</i>, Glossary, p. 171. <span class="sc">Budge</span>, drink. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (old slang, but now colloquial).—To move; ‘to make tracks.’ For modern synonyms, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Amputate</span>, and <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Budge-a-beake</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Budge-a-Beake</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (old).—To run away (presumably from justice). There seems some connection in meaning +between this expression and a modern phrase—‘<span class="sc">to bilk the blues</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>). [From <span class="sc">budge</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), ‘to move away,’ ‘to decamp,’ + <span class="sc">a</span> + <span class="sc">beak</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), a policeman.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Amputate</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1610. <span class="sc">Rowlands</span>, <i>Martin Mark-all</i>, p. 37 (H. Club’s Repr., 1874). <span class="sc">Budge-a-beake</span>, runne away. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb353">[<a href="#pb353">353</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Budger</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A drunkard. [From <span class="sc">budge</span>, <i>subs.</i>, sense 3, ‘drink’ (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">er</span>.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Elbow crooker</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Budging-Ken</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A public house.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Budge</span>. [From <span class="sc">budge</span>, drink, + <span class="sc">ken</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), a place or house.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Lush crib</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">D. Haggart</span>, <i>Life</i>, Glossary, p. 171. <span class="sc">Budge kain</span>, a public-house. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Budgy</b>, <i>adj.</i> (old).—Drunk; intoxicated. [From <span class="sc">budge</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), sense 3, drink.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Screwed</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bud of Promise</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (American).—A facetious term for a young, unmarried woman.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Rosebud</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Charlestown Enterprise.</i> +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The young, unmarried girl, in sport, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Is called a <span class="sc">bud of promise</span>; </p> +<p class="line">She blooms each year at some resort, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">The weather when it warm is. </p> +<p class="line">And in the Fall a score of men, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Whose hearts till now have harm missed, </p> +<p class="line">Compare sad notes, and find out then </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">To each the <span class="sc">bud</span> is promised. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bud Sallogh</b> (Old Irish).—A term applied to one who practises unmentionable vices.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Jesuit</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buenos Ayres</b> (provincial).—The Royal Crescent at Margate at the extreme end of the town used to +be so called. The houses remained unfinished for a very considerable time.—<i>H. J. Byron.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bufe</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant).—A dog. [Murray says, from the sound of its bark.]—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Buffer</span>, and <span class="sc">Tike</span> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i>, 84. <span class="sc">Bufe</span>, a dogge. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bufe</span>, a dog; <span class="sc">Bufe’s nob</span>, a dog’s head. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bufe-Nabber</b> or <b>Napper</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A dog thief. [From <span class="sc">bufe</span>, old cant for a ‘dog,’ + <span class="sc">nabber</span>, one who steals or ‘nabs.’] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Area-sneak</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bufe-nabber</span>, a dog-stealer. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buff</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. The bare skin. [An allusion to the colour.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1654. <span class="sc">Chapman</span>, <i>Revenge for Honour</i>, I., i. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Then for accoutrements you wear the <span class="sc">buff</span>, </p> +<p class="line">As you believed it heresy to change </p> +<p class="line">For linen: surely most of yours is spent </p> +<p class="line">In lint. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1749. <span class="sc">H. Fitzcotton</span>, <i>Homer</i>, I., 38. If you perplex me with your stuff—All that are here shan’t save your <span class="sc">buff</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1760. <span class="sc">Johnston</span>, <i>Chrysal</i>, II., 235. ‘I have got as many clothes and things of all kinds as would serve to +set up a Monmouth-street merchant: if the place had held out but a few days longer, +the poor devils must have done duty in their <span class="sc">buff</span>; ha! ha! ha!’ ‘And the properest dress for them,’ returned the admiral; ‘who wants +any clothes in such a climate as this?’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1824. <span class="sc">Hughes</span>, <i>Magic Lay of the One-horse Chay</i> (Blackwood). When our pair were soused enough, and returned in their <span class="sc">buff</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>Gt. World of London</i>, p. 223. ‘There’s a fine young chap there, stript to the <span class="sc">buff</span>, and working away hard!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">C. King</span>, <i>Sierra Nev.</i>, viii., 176. Stripping ourselves to the <span class="sc">buff</span>, we hung up our steaming clothes. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—A man; a fellow; also <span class="sc">buffer</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1708–15. <span class="sc">Kersey, Buff</span> … a dull Sot, or dronish Fellow. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1709. <i>Brit. Apollo</i>, II, No. 8, p. 3, col. 2. Tell me Grave <span class="sc">Buffs</span>, Partly Gods, partly men. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb354">[<a href="#pb354">354</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1725. <i>New Cant. Dict.</i>, s.v. <span class="sc">Buff</span>, a Newgate Cant Word used in familiar Salutation as, How dost do, my <span class="sc">Buff</span>? +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Roderick Random</i>, ch. iv., p. 15. Mayhaps old <span class="sc">buff</span> has left my kinsman here his heir. +</p> +<p class="cit">1764. <span class="sc">Brydges</span>, <i>Homer Travest.</i> (1797), II., 420. You seem afraid these <span class="sc">buffs</span> will flinch. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Buff it</span>, <i>verb</i> (common).—1. To swear to; to adhere to a statement hard and fast; to stand firm. +[Query from ‘to bluff.’] <span class="sc">To buff it</span> is sometimes enlarged—<span class="sc">to buff it home</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dict.</i>, s.v. <span class="sc">Buff</span>, <span class="sc">To buff</span> to a person or thing, is to swear to the identity of them. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>New York Slang Dictionary.</i> <span class="sc">Buffing it home</span> is swearing point-blank to anything, about the same as bluffing it, making a bold +stand on no backing. +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—To strip; to bare oneself to the ‘<span class="sc">buff</span>’ or skin. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, II., p. 416. ‘You had better <span class="sc">buff</span> it, Jim,’ says I; but Jim wouldn’t do it, and kept his trowsers on. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 417. So I locks the door, and <span class="sc">buffs</span> it, and forces myself up, etc. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">In buff</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—Naked; in a state of nudity. Among English equivalents are <span class="sc">Abram</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) and <span class="sc">birthday suit</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), but for all synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Nature’s garb</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1602. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Satiro-Mastix</i>. I go in stag, <span class="sc">in buff</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <i>Notes and Queries</i>, 1 S., xi., p. 467. We say of one in a state of nudity, ‘he is in <span class="sc">buff</span>.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To stand buff</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (old).—To stand the brunt; to pay the piper; to endure without flinching. [From <span class="sc">buff</span>, an old pugilistic term for a blow.] +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>a.</i> 1680. <span class="sc">Butler</span>, <i>Hudibras’s Epitaph</i>. And for the good old cause <span class="sc">stood buff</span> ’Gainst many a bitter kick and cuff. +</p> +<p class="cit">1697. <span class="sc">Vanbrugh</span>, <i>Provoked Wife</i>, I., i. Would my courage come up to a fourth part of my ill-nature, I’d <span class="sc">stand buff</span> to her relations, and thrust her out of doors. +</p> +<p class="cit">1737. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>The Miser</i>, Act ii., Sc. 2. <i>Love.</i> How! rascal, is it you that abandon yourself to those intolerable extravagancies? +<i>Fred.</i> I must even <span class="sc">stand buff</span>, and outface him. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">To stand Buff</span> (v.), to stand stoutly to a thing, to be resolute and unmoved, though the danger +be great. +</p> +<p class="cit">1761. <span class="sc">Colman</span>, <i>Jealous Wife</i>, V., i., 139. Stick close to my advice and you may <span class="sc">stand buff</span> to a tigress. +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. xii. ‘<span class="sc">Stand buff</span> against the reproach of thine over-tender conscience.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buff-Ball</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vagrants’).—A dancing party in which both sexes dance together naked. [From <span class="sc">buff</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), naked, + <span class="sc">ball</span>.] <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Ballum rancum</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Greenwood</span>, <i>In Strange Company</i>. The most favourite entertainment at this place is known as <span class="sc">buff-ball</span>, in which both sexes—innocent of clothing—madly join, stimulated with raw whiskey, +and the music of a fiddle and a tin whistle. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buffer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A dog. [Considerable obscurity surrounds the origin of this term. It occurs +in varying forms from 1567 down to the present time. Harman gives it as <span class="sc">bufe</span> (1567) and <span class="sc">bufa</span> (1573); Rowlands as <span class="sc">buffa</span> (1610); Head as <span class="sc">bugher</span> (1673); whilst in <i>The Memorials of John Hall</i> it first appears as <span class="sc">buffer</span>.] Synonymous terms will be found under <span class="sc">Tike</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i> (1814), p. 65. <span class="sc">Bufa</span>, a dogge. +</p> +<p class="cit">1610. <span class="sc">Rowlands</span>, <i>Martin Mark-all</i>, p. 37 (H. Club’s Repr., 1874). <span class="sc">Buffa</span>, a Dogge. +</p> +<p class="cit">1714. <i>Memoirs of John Hall</i> (4 ed.), p. 11. <span class="sc">Buffer</span>, a Dog. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb355">[<a href="#pb355">355</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1842. <span class="sc">Lover</span>, <i>Handy Andy</i>, ch. iv. ‘It is not every day we get a badger, you know.… Reilly the butcher has +two or three capital dogs, and there’s a wicked mastiff below stairs, and I’ll send +for my ‘<span class="sc">buffer</span>’ and we’d have some spanking sport.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 162. They had a dog belonging to them that would be sure to begin a quarrel with +another <span class="sc">buffer</span>, whenever his master or mistress found a match. +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A man; a fellow—sometimes used with a slightly contemptuous meaning; +generally speaking a familiar mode of address, as in Old Buffer, although even this +form may be used disparagingly. +</p> +<p class="cit">1749. <span class="sc">H. Fitzcotton</span>, <i>Homer</i>, I. (1748), 23. You’re a <span class="sc">buffer</span> always rear’d in The brutal pleasures of Bear-garden, [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Barham</span>, <i>I. L.</i> (<i>The Bagman’s Dog</i>). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">So I’ll merely observe, as the water grew rougher, </p> +<p class="line">The more my poor hero continued to suffer, </p> +<p class="line">Till the Sailors themselves cried, in pity, ‘Poor <span class="sc">buffer</span>!’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1882. <span class="sc">F. Anstey</span>, <i>Vice Versâ</i>, ch. xiv. ‘I made a first-rate booby-trap, though, one day for an old yellow <span class="sc">buffer</span> who came in to see you.’ +</p> +<p>3. (pugilistic.)—A boxer; one of ‘the fancy.’ [Hotten gives this as of Irish origin, +but it would rather seem to come from O.E. <span class="sc">buff</span>, a blow.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress</i>, p. 7. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Last Tuesday, at Moulsey, the Balance of Power </p> +<p class="line">Was settled by twelve <i>Tightish</i> Rounds in an hour, </p> +<p class="line">The <span class="sc">Buffers</span>, both ‘Boys of the <i>Holy Ground</i>.’—Ibid, p. 51:— </p> +<p class="line">Yet, sprightly <i>to the Scratch</i> both <span class="sc">Buffers</span> came, </p> +<p class="line">While <i>ribbers</i> rung from each resounding frame, </p> +<p class="line">And divers <i>digs</i>, and many a ponderous <i>pelt</i>, </p> +<p class="line">Were on their broad <i>bread-baskets</i> heard and felt. </p> +<p class="line">With roving aim, but aim that rarely miss’d, </p> +<p class="line">Round <i>lugs</i> and <i>ogles</i> flew the frequent fist; </p> +<p class="line">While showers of <i>facers</i> told so deadly well, </p> +<p class="line">That the crush’d jaw-bones crackled as they fell! </p> +</div> +<p class="first">4. (old.)—<i>See</i> quots. +</p> +<p class="cit">1690. B. E., <i>Dict. Cant. Crew</i>. <span class="sc">Buffer</span>, a Rogue that kills good sound Horses only for their Skins. +</p> +<p class="cit">1737. <i>Bacchus and Venus.</i> <span class="sc">Buffer</span>, a rogue that killed good sound horses for the sake of their skins, by running a +long wire into them. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Buffer</span>, one that steals and kills horses and dogs for their skins. +</p> +<p>5. (old.)—One who took a false oath for a ‘consideration.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bail</span>. +</p> +<p>6. (old.)—A pistol. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Barker</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1824. <span class="sc">Sir W. Scott</span>, <i>Red Gauntlet</i>. ch. iii. Here be a pair of <span class="sc">buffers</span> will bite as well as bark. +</p> +<p>7. (old.)—A smuggler; rogue; or cheat. +</p> +<p>8. (nautical.)—A navy term for a boatswain’s mate, one of whose duties it is—or was—to +administer the ‘cat.’ <i>Cf.</i>, O.E. <span class="sc">Buff</span>, a blow. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buff Howards</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—The Third Regiment of Foot; now contracted into <span class="sc">Buffs</span>. It was nicknamed the <span class="sc">Buff Howards</span>, from its facings and Colonel from 1737 to 1749; also the <span class="sc">Nut-crackers</span> (<i>q.v.</i>); and the <span class="sc">Resurrectionists</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), from its re-appearing at the Battle of Albuera after being dispersed by the Polish +Lancers; also the ‘Old Buffs,’ from its facings, and to distinguish it from the 31st, +the ‘Young <span class="pageNum" id="pb356">[<a href="#pb356">356</a>]</span>Buffs’; but the most ancient ‘Old Buffs’ were the ‘Duke of York and Albany’s Maritime +Regiments,’ raised in 1664, and incorporated into the 2nd or Coldstream Guards in +1689. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Tinsley’s Mag.</i>, ‘Our Regimental Mottoes and Nicknames,’ April, p. 319. The <span class="sc">Buffs</span>—a corps which enjoys the almost unique privilege of marching through the city of +London with bayonets fixed. The 3rd Foot owes its immortal cognomen to the fact of +its having originally been clad in scarlet, lined and faced with <span class="sc">buff</span>; its members also had <span class="sc">buff</span> waistcoats, <span class="sc">buff</span> breeches, and <span class="sc">buff</span> stockings. Being the senior regiment thus clothed, they were occasionally styled +the ‘<span class="sc">Old Buffs</span>’; and the 31st, raised in 1702, and dressed in a precisely similar fashion, were +known as the <span class="sc">Young Buffs</span>. The following tradition, however, offers a more circumstantial account of the latter +appellation. Having earned in some hotly-contested action, the good opinion of a general +under whom they were serving, and who expressed his approbation by calling out to +the 31st, ‘Well done, <span class="sc">Old Buffs</span>!’ A few of the men, somewhat excited by close combat, replied, ‘We are not the <span class="sc">Old Buffs</span>, Sir.’ Whereupon the general cried, ‘Then well done, <span class="sc">Young Buffs</span>!’ And so the ‘Young <span class="sc">Buffs</span>’ they became, and have since remained, although the days of <span class="sc">buff</span> waistcoats and stockings have long passed away. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buffle</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A fool; a stupid person. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Buffle-head</span> and <span class="sc">Buff</span>, sense 2. Murray quotes it as occurring in 1655, but the term is, as will be seen, +nearly a century older. [After French <i>buffle</i>.] For synonymous terms, <i>see</i> following:— +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> Buffle-head; Sammy-soft, often contracted into Sammy; sheep’s head; crock (the original +meaning is rather concerned with a slow worthless horse, but in sporting phraseology +it has also come to mean a foolish, good-for-nothing person); duffer; dotty (also +used by prostitutes of a low class to designate their protector or fancy man); cuckoo; +calf; cabbage-head; cake; block; greenhorn; old curmudgeon; doddering old sheep’s +head. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Un échappé de Charenton</i> (<i lang="fr">échapper</i> = to escape; <i lang="fr">Charenton</i> is the name of a lunatic asylum in Paris; hence one escaped from Charenton. <i>Cf.</i>, English colloquial use of the names of Hanwell, Colney Hatch, and Bedlam in describing +idiotic or foolish conversation or behaviour); <i lang="fr">échappé d’Herode</i> (<i>Cf.</i>, foregoing); <i lang="fr">un vieil embaumé</i> (this term is applied to a foolish person well advanced in years; an old curmudgeon); +<i lang="fr">un actionnaire</i> (literary: properly a shareholder). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">German Synonyms.</span> <i lang="de">Amhorez</i> (literally a countryman; from Hebrew <i lang="und">om</i>, the people, + <i lang="und">erez</i>, country); <i lang="de">Blechseppel</i> (a soldier’s term); <i lang="de">Chammer</i> (a butcher’s or knacker’s word; it also signifies a donkey, and is derived from the +Hebrew <i lang="und">chamor</i>); <i lang="de">Dilmisch</i>, <i lang="de">Dilledapp</i>, <i lang="de">Dilldapp</i>, <i lang="de">Dilledali</i>, <i lang="de">Dellemelle</i>, <i lang="de">Dirledapp</i>, <i lang="de">Didel</i>, <i lang="de">Tatidel</i>, <i lang="de">Dudeldop</i>, <i lang="de">Dilldan</i> (all these are popular expressions for a stupid fellow. <i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="de">dildalfen</i> = to exhaust); <i lang="de">Ewil</i> (from the Hebrew <i lang="und">owal</i>; the term also stands for a sinner); <i lang="de">Godeschaute</i> (a great fool, a perfect fool; from the Hebrew <i lang="und">godol</i>, great, strong, celebrated, + <i lang="und">schoto</i>, a fool); <i lang="de">Gomol</i> (used only as a nickname; from the Hebrew <i lang="und">gamal</i>, a camel); <i lang="de">Hanne</i> or <i lang="de">Hannes</i> (a shortened form of <i>Johannes</i>, the German for the English John; it is curious that in both languages the nicknames +<i lang="de">Hanne</i> <span class="pageNum" id="pb357">[<a href="#pb357">357</a>]</span>and Jack should, as applied to men, always be used depreciatingly, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Jack</span>); <i lang="de">Harbogen</i>, <i lang="de">Hornickel</i>, <i lang="de">Hornigel</i> (besides signifying a fool or weak-headed one, these words are used to designate +an ox; they are employed indiscriminately); <i lang="de">Heckel</i>, <i lang="de">Häckel</i>, <i lang="de">Hegel</i> (also a fop; <i lang="de">heckeln</i> = to fool anyone, probably from <i lang="de">hacken</i> or <i lang="de">hecheln</i>, to hew, to hackle); <i lang="de">Koppel</i> (a diminutive of Jacob; sometimes written <i lang="de">Jockel</i>); <i lang="de">Ksil</i> (from the Hebrew <i lang="und">kossal</i>; variations in spelling are <i lang="de">Kessil</i>, <i lang="de">Kessel</i>, and in students’ slang <i lang="de">Theekessel</i>); <i lang="de">Nebbich</i> or <i lang="de">Newich</i> (among thieves employed to designate the clumsy, stupid fellow who is only entrusted +with unimportant tasks connected with a robbery, such for instance as holding the +sacks in which the stolen property is placed, or in carrying off the plunder); <i lang="de">Nille</i> or <i lang="de">Knolle</i> or <i lang="de">Nolle</i> (these terms are used to signify a fool, jester, or the male <i>penis</i>); <i lang="de">Nowel</i> or <i lang="de">Newil</i> or <i lang="de">Nebel</i> (also a cunning fellow, a rogue or ‘sly blade’; <i lang="de">das ist ein Newele</i>, the equivalent of the Low German <i lang="de">dat is een Aas vun Kêrl</i> might be rendered by the English ‘he is a devil of a fellow’); <i lang="de">Oochbram</i> or <i lang="de">Ogbrôm</i> (a fool or rather one whose craziness resembles in extent the traditional stature +of Og, King of Bashan—at least authorities agree in thinking this the most likely +derivation of the word. Among the Jews Og is taken as an image of gigantic size. When +the Israelites advanced on Edrëi, Og sat on the wall of the town, and his feet reached +to the ground, so that Moses at first thought he was part of the wall, but when he +discovered that it was a man he was seized with terror. <i>Rum</i> = on high, therefore <i>Og b’rum</i> = the [great] Og on high. <i lang="de">Er hat die Grösse von Og Melech haboschon</i>, he has the size of Og, King of Bashan. A corresponding expression is found in the +Low German, <i lang="de">de lange Rick</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, a tall, slenderly built fellow); <i lang="de">Schote</i> or <i lang="de">Schaute</i> or <i lang="de">Schotte</i> (from the Hebrew <i lang="und">schoto</i>; used especially of one who can be cheated or robbed with his eyes open; a tradesman +or money changer who can be robbed while transacting business at the counter or while +exchanging money); <i lang="und">Sonof</i> (a Hebrew word signifying properly a tail, and mostly used proverbially of things +low and contemptible. It is also employed to designate the male <i>penis</i>; the German Gaunerspräche offers frequent examples in which contemptible names are +also used synonymously for the male and female organs of generation). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Italian Synonyms.</span> <i lang="it">Fiadetto</i> (besides its meaning of a dolt or duffer, this term is also applied to a thief, rogue, +or indeed a villain of any description); <i lang="it">ribeba</i> or <i lang="it">ribecca</i> (a goose or simpleton; properly a violin or Jewish harp); <i lang="it">cordovano</i> (this also means in the Fourbesque, a big man; properly it is the name of Morocco +or Spanish leather); <i lang="it">furlana</i>; <i lang="it">marietta</i> or <i lang="it">marietto</i> (a dolt or dunce). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Spanish Synonym.</span> <i lang="es">Dupa</i> (<i>Cf.</i>, English dupe). +</p> +<p class="cit">1580. <i>Beehive of the Romish Churche</i>, fo. 66 <i>b</i>. An unlearned <span class="sc">buffle</span> did babble. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb358">[<a href="#pb358">358</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1655. <i>Comic Hist. Francion</i>, iv., 22. He said to the three <span class="sc">buffles</span> who stood with their hats in their hands. Tell me you Waggs, etc. [<span class="asc">M.</span>]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1710. <i>Pol. Ballads</i> (1860), II., 90. To see the chief attorney such a <span class="sc">buffle</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buffle-Head</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—An ignoramus; a stupid obtuse fellow. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Buffle</span>, and which <i>see</i> for synonyms. +</p> +<p class="cit">1659. <i>Lady Alimony</i>, I., ii., in Hazl. <i>Dodsley</i>, xiv., 278. What a drolling <span class="sc">buffle-head</span> is this! +</p> +<p class="cit">1663. <span class="sc">Pepys</span>, <i>Diary</i>, March 17. But my Lord Mayor a talking, bragging, <span class="sc">buffle-headed</span> fellow. +</p> +<p class="cit">1668. <span class="sc">Pepys</span>, <i>Diary</i>, Jan. 29. He tells me that Townsend, of the Wardrobe, is the veriest knave and <span class="sc">buffle-head</span> that ever he saw. +</p> +<p class="cit">1677. <span class="sc">Wycherley</span>, <i>Plain Dealer</i>, Act ii. <i>Oliv.</i> You know nothing, you <span class="sc">buffle-headed</span> stupid creature you. +</p> +<p class="cit">1686. <span class="sc">D’Urfey</span>, <i>Commonwealth of Women</i>, I., i. A damn’d huffing fellow yonder, a Rebel, Whiggy <span class="sc">buffle-head</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <span class="sc">B. Martin</span>, <i>Eng. Dict.</i>, 2 ed. <span class="sc">Buffle-head</span>, an ignoramus, or dull sot. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Dead Man’s Rock</i>, bk. I., ch. v. ‘Jonathan’s a <span class="sc">buffle-head</span> … a daft fule like Jonathan.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buffleheaded</b>, <i>adj.</i> (old).—Stupid; idiotic; foolish. [From <span class="sc">bufflehead</span>, a foolish fellow (<i>q.v.</i>), + <span class="sc">ed</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Baring Gould</span>, <i>John Herring</i>, vol. II., ch. xxv., p. 275. (Tauchnitz ed.) ‘A <span class="sc">buffleheaded</span> sort of a chap,’ said Joyce. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buffs</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—The Third Regiment of Foot in the British army. From their facings.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Buff Howards</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Macaulay</span>, <i>Hist. England</i>, I., 295. The third regiment, distinguished by flesh-coloured facings, from which +it derived the well-known name of the <span class="sc">Buffs</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, I., p. 232. His father was a captain in the <span class="sc">Buffs</span>, and himself a commissioned officer at seventeen. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <i>Saturday Review</i>, p. 95. This regiment [the First or Grenadier Guards] has almost the longest record +of any in the service, only yielding, we believe, to the 1st Royals, and to the 3rd +<span class="sc">Buffs</span>, which were originally raised for the service of the States-General of Holland. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buffy</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Intoxicated. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Screwed</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <span class="sc">Yates</span>, <i>Land at Last</i>, I., p. 85. Flexor was fine and <span class="sc">buffy</span> when he came home last night, after you was gone, sir. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">Besant and Rice</span>, <i>R. M. Mortiboy</i>, ch. xlii. ‘My ideas take me first of all unawares. They generally begin, like a +toothache, when I least expect them. Perhaps when I feel a little <span class="sc">buffy</span>, in the morning; mayhap, after an extra go of grog the night before. Then one comes +all of a sudden.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bug</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—1. A breast pin. +</p> +<p>2. (Old Irish.)—A jeering name for an Englishman—Grose says ‘because <span class="sc">bugs</span> were introduced into Ireland by Englishmen!!’ +</p> +<p>3. (American.)—The term <span class="sc">bug</span> is, in the United States, not confined merely, as in England, to the domestic pest, +but is applied to all insects of the Coleoptera order, which includes what in this +country are generally called beetles. The English <span class="sc">bug</span> (<i lang="la">Cimex lectularius</i>) is, in the Southern States, known as the <span class="sc">chinch</span>. It may be mentioned, however, that at Winchester College a usage akin to that prevailing +in America exists. There a <span class="sc">bug</span> merely means an insect, whether belonging to the Coleoptera, Lepidoptera, or any +other order. Synonyms for the English domestic pest will be found under <span class="sc">Norfolk Howards</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb359">[<a href="#pb359">359</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1642. <span class="sc">Rogers</span>, <i>Naaman the Syrian</i>, 74. Do not all as much and more wonder at God’s rare workmanship in the Ant, the +poorest <span class="sc">bugge</span> that creeps. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Grass Valley</i> (Cal.) <i>Tidings</i>. Entomology, or bugology, is now taught to some extent in our public schools. This +is well, and is of use. The children ought to learn about the <span class="sc">bugs</span> that are destructive to useful vegetation. It is better to learn much about <span class="sc">bugs</span> than so much about how to solve those arithmetical problems that will never face +anybody in the practical affairs of life. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Daily Inter-Ocean</i>, March. The Insane Asylum Board some time ago discontinued a bug-killer’s employment, +and the doctor avers that the old hospital building is swarming with cockroaches, +and that these <span class="sc">bugs</span> will soon be large and fat enough to carry out the inmates and take their food and +clothes. +</p> +<p>4. (American.)—<span class="sc">Bug</span> is also used idiomatically in various combinations, as <span class="sc">big bugs</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), a jocose and vulgar name for persons of wealth or distinction. Thence, similarly, +<span class="sc">cattle-bugs</span>, that is, wealthy stock-raisers; <span class="sc">gold-bugs</span>, or monied men, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1843. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span>, <i>Sam Slick in England</i>, ch. xv. The great guns and <span class="sc">big bugs</span> have to take in each other’s ladies. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 24. Pick out the <span class="sc">big bugs</span> and see what sort of stuff they’re made of. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>St. Louis Globe Democrat</i>, March 5. ‘Would Senator Allison’s well-known views on silver coinage operate materially +against him in New York.’ ‘I think not; I do not think the feeling against silver +is anything like as strong as it was. Of course, a few <span class="sc">gold-bugs</span> might fight him, but any of the men I have mentioned are reasonably certain to carry +New York.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">That beats the bugs</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—A phrase conveying a high mead of praise; ‘that beats cock-fighting.’ +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (old).—1. A cant word among journeymen hatters, signifying the exchanging some of +the dearest materials of which a hat is made for others of less value. Hats are composed +of the furs and wools of diverse animals, among which is a small portion of bever’s +fur. <span class="sc">Bugging</span> is stealing the bever, and substituting in lieu thereof an equal weight of some cheaper +ingredient. Bailiffs who take money to postpone or refrain the serving of a writ, +are said to <span class="sc">bug</span> the writ.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p>2. (thieves’.)—To bribe. In old slang, bailiffs accepting money to delay service were +said <span class="sc">to bug</span> the writ. +</p> +<p>3. (thieves’.)—To give; hand over; to deliver. <i>Cf.</i>, sense 2. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dict.</i> ‘He <span class="sc">bug’d</span> me a quid.’ ‘<span class="sc">Bug over</span> the rag.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bugaroch</b>, <i>adj.</i> (Old Irish).—Pretty; comely; handsome.—<i>Grose.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bug-Blinding</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—Whitewashing operations. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bugger</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A thief whose speciality is stealing breast-pins from drunken men. [From +<span class="sc">bug</span>, a cant term for a breast pin, + (<span class="sc">g</span>) <span class="sc">ger</span>.] Also called a <span class="sc">bug hunter</span>. For synonymous terms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Area-sneak</span> and <span class="sc">Bug-hunter</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (low.)—A man; a fellow. A coarse term of abuse without, however, any reference +to the legal meaning—a sodomite. The French has an exact equivalent in <i lang="fr">Bougre</i>, which Littré says is <i lang="fr">une terme de mépris et d’injure, usité dans le langage populaire le plus trivial et +le plus grossier</i>. The term, as applied to a man, is equivalent to <span class="sc">bitch</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), as applied to women. Hence also <span class="sc">buggery</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1719. <span class="sc">D’Urfey</span>, <i>Pills</i>, I., 59. From every trench the <span class="sc">bougers</span> fly. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb360">[<a href="#pb360">360</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1854. <span class="sc">M. Holmes</span>, <i>Tempest and Sun</i>, 203. ‘If I’d known all you city <span class="sc">buggers</span> was comin’, I’d a kivered my bar feet.’ [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buggery</b>, <i>adj.</i> (low).—An indefinite expression signifying disgust; or disapprobation. Of the same +type as <span class="sc">bloody</span>, <span class="sc">blamed</span>, <span class="sc">blasted</span>, etc. (<i>q.v.</i>), but conveying a somewhat intenser meaning. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, I., p. 23. A <span class="sc">buggery</span> fool, why don’t he let people go to hell their own way? <i>Ibid</i>, p. 180. Here mother, give us one of your <span class="sc">buggery</span> trotters. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buggy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A leather bottle. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bugher.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Buffer</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bug-Hunter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A thief who plunders drunken men. The same as <span class="sc">bugger</span>, sense 1. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Un poivrier</i> (popular and thieves’); <i lang="fr">un allumeur</i> (this term is also applied to an auction room ‘button’ or confederate, and to a card-sharper’s +decoy); <i lang="fr">faire un louave</i>, or <i lang="fr">faire les gavés</i> (to go bug-hunting. <i lang="fr">Louave</i> and <i lang="fr">gavé</i> = drunkard, the latter from <i lang="fr">gaver</i>, to glut). +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>Gt. World of London</i>, p. 46. Those who hocus or plunder persons by <i>stupefying</i>; as ‘drummers,’ who drug liquor, and ‘<span class="sc">bug-hunters</span>,’ who plunder drunken men. +</p> +<p>2. <i>subs.</i> (old).—An upholsterer.—<i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bug-Juice</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. Ginger ale. +</p> +<p>2. (American.)—The Schlechter whiskey of the Pennsylvania Dutch—a very inferior spirit. +Also called <span class="sc">bug-poison</span>. These terms are now applied to bad whiskey of all kinds. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Texas Siftings</i>, 7 July. It is a singular fact, that nearly every character introduced by Charles +Dickens into his numerous novels, was addicted to drinking … each and every individual +took his <span class="sc">bug-poison</span> with surprising regularity and eminent satisfaction. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bugle It</b>, <i>verb</i> (American cadets’).—To abstain from going into class until the last moment—<i>i.e.</i>, until the bugle sounds. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bug Walk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A bed. [Derivation obvious.] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> Bedfordshire; Sheet Alley; Blanket Fair; Land of Nod; doss; rip; Cloth Market. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Un portfeuille</i> (familiar: properly ‘a portfolio’); <i lang="fr">la boîte à puces</i> (popular: this almost exactly corresponds to the English ‘<span class="sc">bug walk</span>,’ the French phrase signifying ‘the flea box’); <i lang="fr">le pucier</i> (popular: from <i lang="fr">puce</i> = flea); <i lang="fr">le tremblant</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">le plumard</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">le fournil</i> (popular and thieves’); <i lang="fr">la halle aux draps</i> (popular: literally, Sheet Market or Fair. <i>Cf.</i>, English ‘Blanket Fair’); <i lang="fr">le pagne</i>; <i lang="fr">le panier aux ordures</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Build</b>, <i>subs.</i> and <i>verb</i> (popular).—Properly ‘<span class="sc">to build</span> is to construct,’ says Murray, ‘for a dwelling and by extension of meaning … to construct +by fitting together of separate parts; chiefly with reference to structures of considerable +size … (not, <i>e.g.</i>, a watch or a piano).’ Difficult as it may be at times to draw a dividing line between +a literary, or even a colloquial usage and a slang signification, <span class="pageNum" id="pb361">[<a href="#pb361">361</a>]</span>there can be little doubt that when <span class="sc">build</span> is applied to the make or style of dress, that it is the purest slang—‘It’s a tidy +<span class="sc">build</span>, who made it?’ A tailor, it may be noted, is sometimes called a ‘trousers’ <span class="sc">builder</span>.’ In the United States, this verb is used with much more latitude than in England. +There, as Fennimore Cooper puts it, everything is <span class="sc">built</span>. The priest <span class="sc">builds</span> up a flock; the speculator a fortune; the lawyer a reputation; the landlord a town; +and the tailor, as in England, <span class="sc">builds</span> up a suit of clothes. A fire is <span class="sc">built</span> instead of made, and the expression is even extended to individuals, to be <span class="sc">built</span> being used with the meaning of formed. ‘I was not <span class="sc">built</span> that way’; and hence in a still more idiomatic sense to express unwillingness to +adopt a specified course or carry out any inconvenient plan.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Not built that way</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Wh. Melville</span>, <i>Digby Grand</i>, ch. xx. That creator of manly beauty, who <span class="sc">builds</span> your coat on the model of an Apollo. +</p> +<p class="cit">1853. <span class="sc">Rev. E. Bradley</span> (‘Cuthbert Bede’), <i>Verdant Green</i>, pt. I., ch. x. If he forswore the primitive garments that his country-tailor had +condemned him to wear, and adapted the <span class="sc">build</span> of his dress to the peculiar requirements of university fashion. +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <span class="sc">A. Forbes</span>, <i>My Experience of the War, etc.</i>, II., p. 19. I met a gentleman who had got a dress coat <span class="sc">built</span> in the place [Versailles]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Punch</i>, Jan. 10, p. 6. <span class="sc">The spread of education and liberal ideas.</span>—<i>His Grace the Duke of Poplar and Bermondsey.</i> ‘Just look at these bags you last <span class="sc">built</span> me, Snippe! J’ever see such beastly bags in your life? I shall always be glad to +come and dine with you, old man; but I’ll be hanged if you shall ever measure me for +another pair of bags!’ <i>Mr. Snippe (of Snippe and Son, St. James’s Street).</i> ‘You’ve <i>always</i> grumbled about your bags, as you call ’em, ever since you were my fag at Eton; and +at Christchurch you were just as bad, even though my poor dear old governor used to +come all the way down and measure you himself. It ain’t the fault of the bags, my +dear Popsy—it’s the fault of the legs inside ’em! So, shut up, old Stick-in-the-mud, +and let’s join the ladies—the duchess has promised to give us “Little Billee.” ’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Build a chapel</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (nautical).—To steer badly, and so cause a ship to veer round. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Not built that way</span>, <i>phr.</i> (general).—Not to one’s taste, in one’s line—a general expression of disapproval +or dissent, whether said of persons or things. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>American Humorist</i>, May 12. We cannot shut our eyes to the fact that mankind is passing through a great +era of change; even womankind is not <span class="sc">built</span> as she was a few brief years ago. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Missouri Republican</i>, Jan. 25. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">‘Why didn’t you roll down?’ </p> +<p class="line">‘I wasn’t <span class="sc">built</span> that way.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bulgarian Atrocities</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Stock Exchange).—Varna and Rutschuk Ry. 3 per cent. obligations. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <span class="sc">Atkin</span>, <i>House Scraps</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">And we’ve really quite a crew </p> +<p class="line">Of fancy names to represent a share.… </p> +<p class="line xd33e5088">But fancy, by the way, </p> +<p class="line xd33e5088">Now, in the present day, </p> +<p class="line">A Varna’s a <span class="sc">Bulgarian atrocity</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bulge</b>, <i>verb</i> (American).—The legitimate meaning is extended in many odd ways. ‘Bags’ <span class="sc">bulge</span>, but do not get baggy; and in a similar fashion when a man is ‘all attention,’ his +eyes are said <span class="sc">to bulge</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Puck’s Library</i>, May, p. 31. A Phenomenal Fee. ‘Yes,’ said a pompous young lawyer, on a street-car, +to a friend: ‘I hadn’t been downtown half an hour this morning, before I got a fee +of ten dollars!’ Then the eyes of a man who was hanging on to a strap began TO <span class="sc">bulge</span>. ‘I say, young feller,’ he whispered earnestly: ‘what saloon d’ye work at? I’m a +waiter, myself!’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb362">[<a href="#pb362">362</a>]</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">To go</span> or <span class="sc">be on</span> a <span class="sc">bulge</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (American).—To drink to excess. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To get the bulge on one</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (American mining slang).—To obtain an advantage over; an equivalent is <span class="sc">to get the drop on one</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <span class="sc">S. L. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>Innocents at Home</i>, p. 18. Well, you’ve rather <span class="sc">got the bulge on me</span>. Or maybe we’ve both <span class="sc">got the bulge</span>, somehow. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Household Words</i>, Oct. 10, p. 466. ‘Smart chap, that Jacob, for a nig!’ remarked he, as we told him +the outlines of our story. ‘I guess now he’s <span class="sc">had the bulge on you</span> pretty considerable this trip.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>American Humorist</i>, May 12. ‘Pop! are you up there?’ ‘Yes, my son.’ ‘I saw he <span class="sc">had the bulge on you</span> and I got the gun and dropped him!’ ‘Right, my boy. That’s what I was praying for.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bulger</b>, <i>adj.</i> (common).—Large; synonymous with <span class="sc">buster</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bulk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—<i>See</i> quots.—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">File</span> and <span class="sc">Bulker</span>, sense 2. +</p> +<p class="cit">1674. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>Canting Acad.</i>, 35. <span class="sc">Bulk</span> and File. The one jostles you, whilst the other picks your pocket. +</p> +<p class="cit">1725. <i>New Cant. Dict.</i> <span class="sc">Bulk</span>, an assistant to a File or Pickpocket, who jostles a Person up against the Wall, +while the other picks his Pocket. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bulk</span> and file, two pickpockets; the <span class="sc">bulk</span> jostles the party to be robbed, and the file does the business. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bulker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A prostitute of a low type—generally one who had no settled home; one who +slept on a ‘bulk,’ a kind of sill projecting from a window. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack-hack</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1691. <span class="sc">Shadwell</span>, <i>Scowerers</i>, Act i., Sc. 1. ‘Every one in a petticoat is thy mistress, from humble <span class="sc">bulker</span> to haughty countess.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1728. <span class="sc">Baily<span id="xd33e64049">,</span></span> <span class="sc">Bulker</span>, a Common Jilt; a Whore.—<i>Canting term.</i> [In a later edition (1790) he adds ‘one who would lay down on a bulk to anyone.<span>’</span>] +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—A thief. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bulk</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1669. <i>Nicker Nicked</i>, in <i>Hart. Misc.</i> (ed. Park), II., 108. <span class="sc">Bulker</span> occurs in a list of names of thieves. +</p> +<p class="cit">1678. <i>Four for a Penny</i>, in <i>Hart. Misc.</i> (ed. Park), IV., 147. He is the treasurer of the thieves’ exchequer, the common fender +of all <span class="sc">bulkers</span> and shop-lifts in the town. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bulky</b>, <i>subs.</i> (provincial).—A police constable. Said to be a northern term. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Beak</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <i>Edinburgh Mag.</i>, August, p. 156. This enterprising ruffian boasts of his success in deceiving the +<span class="sc">bulkies</span> on a search, by concealing his stolen notes in the cape of his coat. +</p> +<p class="cit">1841. <span class="sc">Lytton</span>, <i>Night and Morning</i>, bk. V., ch. ii. ‘Inquiries about your respectability would soon bring the <span class="sc">bulkies</span> about me.’ +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i> (Winchester College).—Rich or generous, or both. The opposite of <span class="sc">brum</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial.)—1. Formerly a blunder or mistake; now generally understood as an inconsistent +statement; a ludicrous contradiction, often partaking largely of the nature of a pun. +[<span class="sc">Bull</span> in M.E. = to befool; to mock.] The term was current long before the form <span class="sc">Irish bull</span> is met with. +</p> +<p class="cit">1642. <span class="sc">Milton</span>, <i>Apol. for Smect.</i>, § 6. But that such a poem should be toothless, I still affirm it to be a <span class="sc">bull</span>, taking away the essence of that which it calls itself. For if it bite neither the +persons nor the vices, how is it a satire? And if it bite either, how is it toothless? +</p> +<p class="cit">1673. <span class="sc">Dryden</span>, <i>The Assignation</i>, Act iii., Sc. 1. <i>Ben.</i> Faith, lady, I could not sleep one wink, for dreaming of you. <i>Lan.</i> Not sleep for dreaming? When the place falls, you shall be <span class="sc">bull</span> master general at court. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb363">[<a href="#pb363">363</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1689. <span class="sc">Selden</span>, <i>Table Talk</i>, p. 96 (Arber’s ed.). We can make no notion of it, ’tis so full of intricacy, so +full of contradiction: ’tis in good earnest, as we state it, half-a-dozen <span class="sc">bulls</span> one upon another. +</p> +<p class="cit">1705. <span class="sc">Ward</span>, <i>Hudibras Redivivus</i>, vol. II., pt. I., p. 6. With Stale Quibbles, Puns, and <span class="sc">Bulls</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1841. <span class="sc">Lever</span>, <i>Charles O’Malley</i>, ch. i. ‘I have got into such an infernal habit of making <span class="sc">bulls</span>, that I can’t write sense when I want it.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">H. Kingsley</span>, <i>Geoffrey Hamlyn</i>, ch. xxxix. He was telling the most outrageous of Irish stories, and making, on purpose, +the most outrageous of Irish <span class="sc">bulls</span>. +</p> +<p>In this connection it may be noted that in French cavalry regiments <i lang="fr">portez!</i> and <i lang="fr">remettez!</i> are mock commands given upon the perpetration of a <span class="sc">bull</span>. <i lang="fr">La calinotade</i> signifies in the popular speech a ludicrous or foolish saying, whilst one given to +uttering them is termed <i lang="fr">un calino</i>. +</p> +<p>2. (thieves’.)—A crown or five shilling piece. Formerly <span class="sc">bull’s eye</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). [The origin is doubtful. It may be a mere allusion to the circular shape, or it +may be of classical derivation, and be a reference to the herds and flocks which at +one time constituted a man’s wealth. <i>Cf.</i>, Latin <i lang="la">pecunia</i>, from <i lang="la">pecus</i>, cattle or oxen.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dictionary</i>. <span class="sc">Bull</span>, a crown, or five shillings. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. I., p. 232. List of patterers’ words. <span class="sc">Bull</span>, a crown. +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Bleak House</i>, ch. xlvi. Four half-<span class="sc">bulls</span>, wot you may call half-crowns. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <i>Notes and Queries</i>, 2 S., 4 July. And therefore much as a <span class="sc">bull</span> (or a hog) stand arbitrarily for a five-shilling-piece, half-a-<span class="sc">bull</span> for half a-crown, a bob for a shilling, a tanner for sixpence, etc., with equal propriety +might a plum stand for £100,000. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Answers</i>, July 27, p. 136, col. 2. Once found, the ‘lurker’ is pretty sure to draw a <span class="sc">bull</span> (five shillings), or even a ‘counter’ (pound). +</p> +<p>3. (Stock Exchange.)—Originally a speculative purchase for a rise; <i>i.e.</i>, a man would agree to buy stock at a future day at a stated price with no intention +of taking it up, but trusting to the market advancing in value to make the transaction +profitable. <span class="sc">Bull</span> is the reverse of <span class="sc">bear</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). The term is now more frequently applied to the person engaged in the above-mentioned +tactics, <i>i.e.</i>, to one who tries to enhance the value of stocks by speculative purchases or otherwise. +Also used as a verb and adjective. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>b.</i> 1671, <i>d.</i> 1757. <span class="sc">Cibber</span>, <i>The Refusal, or The Ladies’ Philosophy</i>. <i>Granger</i> (to Witling, who has been boasting of his gain): And all this out of ‘Change Alley’? +<i>Witling</i>: Every shilling, Sir, all out of stocks, Pulls, <span class="sc">Bulls</span>, Rams, Bears, and Bubbles. +</p> +<p class="cit">1768. <span class="sc">Foote</span>, <i>Devil upon Two Sticks</i>, Act i. A mere <span class="sc">bull</span> and bear booby; the patron of lame ducks, brokers, and fraudulent foot bankrupts. +</p> +<p class="cit">1774. <span class="sc">Coleman</span>, <i>Man of Business</i>, IV., i., in wks. (1777) II., 179. My young master is the <span class="sc">bull</span>, and Sir Charles is the bear. He agreed for stock, expecting it to be up at three +hundred by this time; but, lack-a-day, sir, it has been falling ever since. +</p> +<p class="cit">1817. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Rob Roy</i>, ch. iv. The hum and bustle which his approach was wont to produce among the <span class="sc">bulls</span>, bears, and brokers of Stock Alley. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Peacock</span>, <i>Gryll Grange</i>, ch. xviii. In Stock Exchange slang, <span class="sc">Bulls</span> are speculators for a rise, Bears for a fall. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>Mark Lane Express</i>, Aug. 8, p. 1085. The speculative movement which has, so far, exerted a <span class="sc">bull</span> influence on the maize market. +</p> +<p>On the French Bourse a <span class="sc">bull</span> is called <i lang="fr">un haussier</i>; in Berlin he is known as <i lang="de">liebhaler</i>; and in Vienna the term used is <i lang="de">contremine</i>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb364">[<a href="#pb364">364</a>]</span></p> +<p>4. (nautical.)—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bull the cask</span> or <span class="sc">barrel</span>. +</p> +<p>5. (common.)—Explained by quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <span class="sc">G. R. Sims</span>, <i>How the Poor Live</i>, p. 148. In these places, too, the lodgers divide their food frequently, and a man, +seeing a neighbour without anything, will hand him his teapot, and say, ‘Here you +are, mate; here’s a <span class="sc">bull</span> for you.’ A ‘<span class="sc">bull</span>’ is a teapot with the leaves left in for a second brew. +</p> +<p>6. (thieves’.)—Prison rations of meat, an allusion to its toughness; also generally +used for meat without any reference to its being either tough or tender. A French +equivalent is <i lang="fr">la bidoche</i>. [Its derivation is suggested in the following quot.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Echo</i>, Jan. 25, p. 2, col. 3. Thus from the French ‘<i lang="fr">bouilli</i>’ we probably get the prison slang term <span class="sc">bull</span> for a ration of meat. +</p> +<p>7. (American.)—A locomotive; the word is sometimes lengthened into <span class="sc">bullgine</span>. +</p> +<p>8. (Winchester College.)—Cold beef, introduced at breakfast about 1873. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (American University).—At Dartmouth College to recite badly; to make a poor recitation. +[From the substantive <span class="sc">bull</span>, a blunder or contradiction, or from the use of the word as a prefix, signifying +large, lubberly, blundering.] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Stale bull</span>, <i>subs.</i> (Stock Exchange).—Stock held over for a long period with profit. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull and Cow</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming slang).—A row. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull-Bait</b>, <i>verb</i> (? nonce word).—To bully; hector; badger. [Clearly a figurative usage of the legitimate +word.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Great Expectations</i>, ch. xviii., p. 82. ‘Which I meantersay,’ cried Joe, ‘that if you come into my place +<span class="sc">bull-baiting</span> and badgering me, come out!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull-Beef</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A frequently recurring term of contempt. Prisoners apply it to the hard, stringy +meat supplied to them, and formerly the expression was in general use. ‘As ugly as +<span class="sc">bull-beef</span>’; ‘as big as <span class="sc">bull-beef</span>’; ‘go and sell yourself for <span class="sc">bull-beef</span>’; were common colloquialisms at the end of the last and the beginning of the present +century. Sometimes contracted into <span class="sc">bull</span>. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bully beef</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1579. <span class="sc">Gosson</span>, <i>Apol. of the Schoole of Abuse</i>, p. 64 (Arber). I vnderstand they are all in a fustian fume.… They haue eaten <span class="sc">bul-bief</span>, and threatned highly too put water in my woortes whensoeuer they catche me. +</p> +<p class="cit">1607. <span class="sc">Rowlands</span>, <i>Diogines Lanthorne</i>, p. 8 (H. Cl. Repr., 1873). How lookes yonder fellow? what’s the matter with him +trow? has a eaten <span class="sc">bul-beefe</span>? there’s a lofty slaue indeede, hee’s in the altitudes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1738–1819. <span class="sc">Wolcot</span> (‘P. Pindar’), <i>Rights of Kings, Ode I.</i>, in wks. (Dublin, 1795), vol. II., p. 219. The Cooks, Bluff on th’ occasion, put +on <span class="sc">bull’s-beef</span> looks. +</p> +<p class="cit">1782. <span class="sc">Wolcot</span>, <i>Lyric Odes</i>, No. 3, in wks. (1809) I., 62. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Yet thou may’st bluster like <span class="sc">bull-beef</span> so big. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1860. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span> (‘Sam Slick’), <i>The Season Ticket</i>, x. Which look as cheap as <span class="sc">bull-beef</span> at one cent a pound. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Brewer</span>, <i>Phrase and Fable</i>, p. 524. To look as big as <span class="sc">bull-beef</span>. To look stout and hearty, as if fed on <span class="sc">bull-beef</span>. <span class="sc">Bull-beef</span> was formerly recommended for making men strong and muscular. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <span class="sc">Ashton</span>, <i>Mod. Street Ballads</i>, p. 61. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">For soon he will his trial take, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And hard <span class="sc">bull-beef</span> be munching. </p> +</div> +<p><span class="pageNum" id="pb365">[<a href="#pb365">365</a>]</span></p> +<p class="first main"><b>Bull Calf</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—<i>See</i> quot. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bull calf</span>, a great hulkey or clumsy fellow. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull Chin</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Explained by quotation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bull chin</span>, a fat, chubby child. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull-Dance</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—A dance in which only men take part. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Stag-dance</span>, <span class="sc">Gander-party</span>, <span class="sc">Hen-party</span>, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1867. <span class="sc">Smyth</span>, <i>Sailors’ Word Book</i>. <span class="sc">Bull-dance.</span> At sea it is performed by men only when without women. It is sometimes called a <span class="sc">stag-dance</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Graphic</i>, March 26, p. 315, col. 3. It is obliged to be a <span class="sc">bull-dance</span>. Gentlemen dance with gentlemen, and the pianist is, of course, a gentleman also. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull-Dog</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A sheriff’s officer; a bailiff. +</p> +<p class="cit">1698. <span class="sc">Farquhar</span>, <i>Love and a Bottle</i>, iii., 2. <i>Mock.</i> But pray what’s the matter, Mrs. Lyric? +</p> +<p><i>Lyric.</i> Nothing, sir, but a shirking bookseller that owed me about forty guineas for a few +lines. He would have put me off, so I sent for a couple of <span class="sc">bull-dogs</span>, and arrested him. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—A pistol; in the naval service a main-deck gun. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Barker</span> and <span class="sc">Bull-dog blazer</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1700. <span class="sc">Farquhar</span>, <i>Constant Couple</i>, iii., 2. He whips out his stiletto, and I whips out my <span class="sc">bull-dog</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1825. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>St. Ronan’s Well</i>, ii., 191. ‘I have always a brace of <span class="sc">bull-dogs</span> about me.’… So saying, he exhibited a very handsome, highly-finished, and richly-mounted +pair of pistols. +</p> +<p class="cit">1867. <span class="sc">Smyth</span>, <i>Sailors’ Word Book</i>. <span class="sc">Bull-dog</span> or <span class="sc">muzzled bull-dog</span>, the great gun which stands housed in the officer’s ward-room cabin. General term +for main-deck guns. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>Daily News</i>, Oct. 27, p. 6, col. 2. Revolver cartridges of the ordinary ‘<span class="sc">bull-dog</span>’ pattern. +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—<i>See</i> quot. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dict.</i> <span class="sc">Bull-dog</span>, a sugar-loaf. +</p> +<p>4. (University.)—A proctor’s assistant or marshall. <i>Cf.</i>, quot. from Brewer’s <i>Reader’s Handbook</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1823. <span class="sc">Lockhart</span>, <i>Reg. Dalton</i>, I., x. (1842), 59. Long forgotten stories about proctor’s bit and <span class="sc">bull-dogs</span> baffled. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1841. <span class="sc">Lytton</span>, <i>Night and Morning</i>, bk. III., ch. iii. ‘The proctor and his <span class="sc">bull-dogs</span> came up … and gave chase to the delinquents … the night was dark, and they reached +the College in safety.<span>’</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1847. <span class="sc">Tennyson</span>, <i>Princess</i>, Prologue. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line xd33e27473">We unworthier told </p> +<p class="line">Of college: he had climb’d across the spikes, </p> +<p class="line">And he had squeezed himself betwixt the bars, </p> +<p class="line">And he had breath’d the Proctor’s <span class="sc">dogs</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1880. <span class="sc">Brewer</span>, <i>Reader’s Handbook</i>. <span class="sc">Bull-dogs</span>, the two servants of a university proctor, who follow him in his rounds, to assist +him in apprehending students who are violating the university statues, such as appearing +in the streets after dinner without cap and gown, etc. +</p> +<p>5. (University: obsolete.)—A name for a member of Trinity College, Cambridge. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull-Dog Blazer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A revolver. [Probably a mere amplification of the kindred English canting +term; <span class="sc">bull-dog</span>, a pistol, + <span class="sc">blazer</span>, an allusion to the flash attendant upon firing.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Meat in the pot</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull-Dose</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A severe castigation or flogging. <i>Verb.</i>—To thrash; to intimidate; to bully. A term of Southern political origin, originally +referring to an association of negroes formed to insure, by violent and unlawful means, +the success of an election. The phrase has now <span class="pageNum" id="pb366">[<a href="#pb366">366</a>]</span>passed into general use, political and otherwise, to signify the adoption and use +of coercive measures. [The derivation is almost literal—a <span class="sc">bull-dose</span>, a flogging with a strip of hide; the action itself being represented by the verb +<span class="sc">to bulldose</span>. Though indifferently spelt both with single and double ‘l’ and with ‘s’ and ‘z,’ +the correct version is <span class="sc">bulldose</span>.] Also derivatives <span class="sc">bulldoser</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), and <span class="sc">bull-dosing</span>, <i lang="la">mutatis mutandis</i>, of a kindred meaning. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <i>New York Tribune</i>, Dec. There was a bad case of ‘<span class="sc">bulldozing</span>’ in Cincinnati on Monday night. A handful of bold Democrats had gathered to let out +their pent-up desire for Tilden or blood.… Mr. C—— was in the chair, and was warming +up the faithful with an address, when the Republicans crowded around him in so threatening +a manner that he mounted the table, shook his address in their faces, and declared, +like a true hero, that he was not to be ‘intimidated.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Illust. London News</i>, vol. LXXVII., p. 587, col. 1. The Americans have lately been using a strange word, +‘<span class="sc">bull-dosing</span>,’ which signifies, I believe, political intimidation, but not personal molestation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>Sat. Review</i>, July 9, p. 40, col. 2. To ‘<span class="sc">bull-dose</span>’ a negro in the Southern States means to flog him to death or nearly to death. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>Sat. Review</i>, July 9, p. 40, col. 2. A ‘<span class="sc">bull-dose</span>’ means a large efficient dose of any sort of medicine or punishment. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Cassell’s Mag.</i> (Art. on ‘Americanisms’), June, p. 412. To ‘<span class="sc">bulldoze</span>’ is to intimidate, and the word was originally used respecting the alleged interference +with negro voters in Louisiana. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Detroit Evening Journal</i>, 20 Feb. The Democrats complain of the amounts of money they had to face, but that +was not such a source of trouble as the <span class="sc">bulldozing</span> of voters by the mining bosses. <span class="corr" id="xd33e64871" title="Source: There">They</span> were driven to the polls, and compelled to vote for Seymour. +</p> +<p>A French equivalent is <i lang="fr">faire son fendart</i> (<i lang="fr">fendart</i> signifies ‘braggart’ or ‘swaggerer’; <i lang="fr">fendant</i> in literary French means a hector or bully). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull-Doser</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—1. A bully; braggart; swaggerer. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bull-dose</span>. French printers call a bully <i lang="fr">un mata</i>, an abbreviation of <i lang="es">matador</i>. It is curious that this term in the original Spanish not only signifies a killer +of bulls (as in a bull-fight), but also a murderer. +</p> +<p class="cit">1878. <i>N. American Review</i>, vol. CXXVII., p. 426. The great ‘<span class="sc">bulldozer</span>’ of Europe. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>New York Tribune</i>, 3 May. The hotel where he was staying was visited … by a mob of <span class="sc">bull-dozers</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>2. A pistol. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>Sat. Review</i>, July 9, p. 40, col. 2. A Californian <span class="sc">bull-doser</span> is a pistol which carries a bullet heavy enough to destroy human life with certainty. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bullet.</b> <span class="sc">To give the bullet</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (common).—To discharge an employé. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">To give the bag</span>, sense 2, under <span class="sc">Bag</span>, and <span class="sc">Sack</span>. [Possibly a punning allusion to the word ‘discharge.’] The term is variously used. +<span class="sc">To shake the bullet</span> at anyone, is to threaten with ‘the sack,’ but not to give actual notice to leave. +<span class="sc">To get the bullet</span> is to get notice, while <span class="sc">to get the instant bullet</span> is to be discharged upon the spot. +</p> +<p class="cit">1841. <span class="sc">Savage</span>, <i>Dict. of Art of Printing</i>. A workman was said to have <span class="sc">got the bullet</span> when he was discharged <i>instanter</i>—without the customary notice on either side. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <i>Chamb. Jour.</i>, March 9, p. 147. When a fellow <span class="sc">gets the bullet</span> from his work, he mostly has a spell at cab-driving. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb367">[<a href="#pb367">367</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Punch</i>, Sept. 17, p. 126. I have just <span class="sc">got the ‘bullet,’</span> Mate—sacked without notice. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bullfinch</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A stupid fellow. +</p> +<p>2. (hunting.)—A high thick hedge; one difficult to jump or rush through. [Most authorities +agree in suggesting the origin of this term in a corruption of ‘bull-fence,’ <i>i.e.</i>, a fence capable of preventing cattle from straying.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1832. <i>Quart. Rev.</i>, Mar., 226. The <span class="sc">bull-finch</span> fence … is a quickset hedge of perhaps fifty years’ growth, with a ditch on one side +or the other, and so high and strong that [one] cannot clear it. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1864. <span class="sc">G. A. Lawrence</span>, <i>Guy Livingstone</i>, ch. ix. The third is a teaser—an ugly black <span class="sc">bull-finch</span> with a ditch on the landing side, and a drop into a ploughed field. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>The Times</i>, Nov. 2, p. 4, col. 5. They are almost invariably attired in double-stitched shooting +coats, that will stand the ordeal of ‘<span class="sc">bull-finches</span>’ and brambles. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Man of the World</i>, June 29. See Harrington, the belted earl, bear down an opponent in the jousts, charging +with lance or sword as if he were riding at a South Notts <span class="sc">bull-finch.</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull-Jine</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—A sailor’s term for a locomotive. [Thought to be of American origin, +New York thieves using the same term, as also an abbreviated form—<span class="sc">bull</span>.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull Money</b>, <i>subs.</i> (harlotry).—Money extorted from or given by those who in places of public resort +have been detected <i lang="la">in flagrante delicto</i> with a woman, as a bribe to silence. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull-Nurse</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—<i>See</i> quot. +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Graphic</i>, April 4, p. 326, col. 3. <span id="xd33e65060">‘</span><span class="sc">Bull-nurses.</span>’ Perhaps we ought to apologise for using this word; but years ago (it may be so still) +it was the sailors’ phrase to indicate a male-attendant on the sick. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bullock</b>, <i>subs.</i> (schoolboys’).—1. <i>See</i> quot. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. J. K., in <i>Notes and Queries</i>, 1 S., v., 12, 3 Nov., p. 344. <span class="sc">Bullock</span>, a cheat; but as I think, only when cheating at marbles. +</p> +<p>2. (Australian.)—A countryman or bushman. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bullock-puncher</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To bully; to bounce over; to intimidate. [Query from <span class="sc">bully</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1716. <span class="sc">M. Davies</span>, <i>Ath. Brit.</i>, I., 272. Upon the evidence of that <span class="sc">bullocking</span> Fryer Campanella. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1750. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, bk. II., ch. vi. ‘And then you have charged me with <span class="sc">bullocking</span> you into owning the truth.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1763. <span class="sc">Foote</span>, <i>Mayor of Garratt</i>, Act ii., Sc. 2. She shan’t think to <span class="sc">bullock</span> and domineer over me. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bullock</span>, to hector, bounce, or bully. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bullock’s Heart.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Token</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bullock’s Horn</b>, <i>verb</i> (rhyming slang).—To pawn. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Pop</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull Party</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A party of men only. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bull-dance</span>, <span class="sc">Stag-party</span>, <span class="sc">Hen-tea</span>, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull-Puncher.</b>—A variant of <span class="sc">cow-puncher</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull’s Eye</b>, <i>subs.</i> (schoolboys’).—1. A sweetmeat of which peppermint is an important ingredient. [It +received its name in allusion to its globular shape.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1825. <span class="sc">Hone</span>, <i>Every-day Bk.</i>, I., 51. Hardbake, brandy-balls, and <span class="sc">bull’s-eyes.</span> [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb368">[<a href="#pb368">368</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Punch</i>, vol. LXXXII., p. 83. <i>Dr. Switcher</i> (<i>who had discovered</i> <span class="sc">bull’s eyes</span> <i>about, and traced them to the original donor</i>). ‘Don’t you know, Muggins, there’s an old proverb that “Fools give feasts and Wise +men eat them” ’? <i>Muggins.</i> ‘Yes, Sir, and there’s another one, sir.’ <i>The Doctor.</i> ‘What’s that, sir? Now, Sir?’—(<i>noticing a reticence</i>)—‘What is it, Sir?’—(<i>sternly</i>)—‘or else—!’ <i>Muggins</i> (<i>seeing no escape</i>). ‘Please, Sir, “W—— wise men make proverbs and F—— Fools repea——.<span id="xd33e65229">” ’</span> [Catches it!] +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—A five-shilling piece, otherwise known as a <span class="sc">bull</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1690. B. E., <i>Dict. Cant. Crew</i>. [Mentioned as a cant term for a crown.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1714. <i>Memoirs of John Hall</i> (4 ed.), p. 11. <span class="sc">Bull’s-eye</span>, a Crown. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bull’s-eye</span>, a crown piece. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull’s-eye Villas</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—A nickname given to the small open tents used by the Volunteers at their +annual gathering. [An allusion to <span class="sc">bull’s-eye</span> in its meaning of the centre of a target.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull’s Feather.</b> <span class="sc">To give</span> [or <span class="sc">get</span>] <span class="sc">the bull’s feather</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (old).—To be made, or be a cuckold. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Acteon</span>. The French say also <i lang="fr">planter des plumes de bœuf</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">16(?). <i>Song of the 17th Century</i>, quoted by Nares—‘The <span class="sc">Bull’s Feather</span>.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">It chanced not long ago as I was walking, </p> +<p class="line">An echo did bring me where two were a talking, </p> +<p class="line">’Twas a man said to his wife, dye had I rather, </p> +<p class="line">Than to be cornuted and wear a <span class="sc">bull’s feather</span>. </p> +<p class="line">Then presently she reply’d sweet, art thou jealous? </p> +<p class="line">Thou canst not play Vulcan before I play Venus; </p> +<p class="line">Thy fancies are foolish, such follies to gather, </p> +<p class="line">There’s many an honest man hath worn the <span class="sc">bull’s feather</span>— </p> +<p class="line">Though it be invisible, let no man it scorn, </p> +<p class="line">Though it be a new feather made of an old horn, </p> +<p class="line">He that disdains it in heart or mind either, </p> +<p class="line">May he be the more subject to wear the <span class="sc">bull’s feather</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1748. <span class="sc">Richardson</span>, <i>Cl. Harlowe</i>, v., 295. A good whimsical instrument, take it altogether! But what, thinkest thou, +are the arms to this matrimonial harbinger?… Three crooked horns, smartley top-knotted +with ribands; which being the ladies’ wear, seem to intimate that they may very probably +adorn, as well as bestow, the <span class="sc">bull’s-feather</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull the Cask</b> or <b>Barrel</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (nautical).—To pour water into a rum cask when empty, with a view to keeping the +wood moist and preventing leakage. The water, receiving after some time a strong impregnation, +is very intoxicating. The authorities, not looking with much favour upon a wholesale +brewing of grog in this way, sometimes use salt water as a deterrent, though even +this ‘<span class="sc">salt water bull</span>’ as it is called, when again poured out, has often proved too attractive for seamen +to resist. Again it is common to talk in the same way of ‘<span class="sc">bulling</span> a teapot,’ ‘coffee-pot,’ etc.; that is; after the first ‘brew’ has been exhausted, +by adding fresh water, and boiling over again, to make a second brew from the old +materials. This probably was derived from <span class="sc">bulling the cask</span>, but whether the <span class="sc">bulling</span> originally applied to the preserving the water-tight qualities of the cask, or to +the making of the second brew is not quite certain. Taking, however, the present acceptation +of the term, together with its probable derivation (see below), the latter would appear +to be the case. [Thought to have its origin in French <i lang="fr">boullir</i>, whence <i lang="fr">bouilloire</i>, a tea-kettle; <i lang="fr">bouillon</i>, a decoction <span class="pageNum" id="pb369">[<a href="#pb369">369</a>]</span>of meat to which vegetables, salt and pepper have been added.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1824. <span class="sc">Cochrane</span>, <i>Narrative of a Pedestrian Journey through Russia and Siberian Tartary</i>, p. 225. My liquor was at end from the effects of a very common sort of leak—it had +been tapped too often. I could do nothing but <span class="sc">bull the barrel</span>, that is, put a little water into it, and so preserve at least the appearance of +vookey. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Jacob Faithful</i>, ch. xx. ‘Why, Jacob, a <span class="sc">bull</span> means putting a quart or two of water into a cask which has had spirits in it.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <span class="sc">G. R. Sims</span>, <i>How the Poor Live</i>, p. 148. In these places, too, the lodgers divide their food frequently, and a man, +seeing a neighbour without anything, will hand him his teapot, and say, ‘Here you +are, mate; here’s a <span class="sc">bull</span> for you.’ A ‘<span class="sc">bull</span>’ is a teapot with the leaves left in for a second brew. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bull-Trap</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American thieves’).—A personator of a police constable. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bully</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A ‘protector’ of a prostitute; a ‘fancy man.’ The name is often well applied, +inasmuch as violence and swagger form the main staple of the stock-in-trade of such +men in levying blackmail upon the victims enticed by their women companions. +</p> +<p class="cit">1706. <span class="sc">Defoe</span>, <i lang="la">Jure Divino</i>, i., 8. Mars the celestial <span class="sc">bully</span> they adore, And Venus for an everlasting whore. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Poisson</i> (familiar and popular: one who subsists on the gains of a prostitute, the latter +being known as his <i lang="fr">marmite</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘flesh-pot’; <i lang="fr">poisson</i> signifies literally ‘a fish,’ and Michel says such a one was formerly known as <i lang="fr">poisson d’avril</i>, a punning variation of <i lang="fr">maquereau</i> [which <i>see</i>], mackerel being fit for food about that month. <i lang="fr">Poisson d’avril</i> properly means a trick or fool’s errand; <i lang="fr">recevoir un poisson d’avril</i> is to be made an April-fool); <i lang="fr">Alphonse</i> (a French form of Alphonso, a ‘fancy name’ for a ‘fancy man.’ <i>Cf.</i>, Adonis for a dandy. <i lang="fr">Alphonsisme</i> is the calling of an <i lang="fr">Alphonse</i>); <i lang="fr">baigne-dans-le-beurre</i> (popular: another allusion to mackerel which is generally served with butter); <i lang="fr">barbise</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">barbe</i> (popular: lit. ‘beard’); <i lang="fr">barbille</i> or <i lang="fr">barbillon</i> (a young hand at the business); <i lang="fr">barbeau</i> (popular: properly <i lang="fr">barbel</i>, from L. L. <i lang="la">barbellus</i>, dim. from <i lang="fr">barbus</i>, a barbel, <i>i.e.</i>, the fish, from <i lang="fr">barba</i>, a beard); <i lang="fr">marlou</i> or <i lang="fr">marlousier</i> (general: the second term is the oldest, and Michel derives it from <i lang="fr">marlier</i>, formerly used in the sense of <i lang="fr">marguillier</i>, signifying properly ‘churchwarden.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="fr">Sacristain</i>); <i lang="fr">benoît</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">brochet</i> (popular: properly this is ‘pike’ or ‘jack’); <i lang="fr">dos</i>, <i lang="fr">dos vert</i>, and <i lang="fr">dos d’azur</i> (general: <i lang="fr">dos</i> = back); <i lang="fr">casquette à trois ponts</i> (popular: so called from a cap often worn by such persons); <i lang="fr">chevalier du bidet</i> (<i lang="fr">bidet</i> = pony; <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Omnibus</span>); <i lang="fr">chevalier de la guiche</i> (familiar); <i lang="fr">chiqueur de blanc</i> (<i lang="fr">chiqueur</i> = glutton, and <i lang="fr">blanc</i>, a street-walker. <i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="fr">mangeuse de viande crue</i>); <i lang="fr">bouffeur de blanc</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">costel</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">cravate verte</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">guiche</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">dessous</i> (thieves’: a man for whom ‘love’ is cherished by a prostitute); <i lang="fr">écaillé</i> (literally ‘one with scales,’ like those of a fish—allusive of <i lang="fr">maquereau</i>; <i>fish</i>, another reference to <i lang="fr">maquereau</i>); <i lang="fr">foulard rouge</i> (popular: lit. ‘red silk handkerchief’); <i lang="fr">gentilhomme sous marin</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">ambassadeur</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">gonce à écailles</i> (<i lang="fr">gonce</i> = man; <i lang="fr">à écailles</i> = with scales, an allusion to <i lang="fr">maquereau</i>); <i lang="fr">goujon</i> (general: <span class="pageNum" id="pb370">[<a href="#pb370">370</a>]</span>? does this come from the Gascon <i lang="fr">gouie</i>, whence comes <i lang="fr">gouge</i>, a prostitute); <i lang="fr">lacromuche</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">retrousseur</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">retrousser</i> properly means ‘to turn up,’ ‘to cock’); <i lang="fr">dauphin</i> (popular: lit. dolphin); <i lang="fr">macchoux</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">machabée</i> (popular: lit. a corpse); <i lang="fr">mac</i> or <i lang="fr">macque</i> (popular; abbreviations of <i lang="fr">maquereau</i>); <i lang="fr">macrottin</i> (familiar); <i lang="fr">poisson frayeur</i> (<i lang="fr">frayer</i> [of fishes] signifies ‘to milt’); <i lang="fr">releveur de fumeuse</i> (popular: <i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="fr">relever le chandelier</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, to lift up the candlestick; from a practice of placing the fees of a prostitute +under a candlestick); <i lang="fr">maquignon à bidoche</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">maquignon</i> is properly a ‘horsedealer,’ and <i lang="fr">bidoche</i> = meat); <i lang="fr">mangeur de blanc</i> (general: a devourer of prostitutes. <i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="fr">chiqueur de blanc</i>); <i lang="fr">tête de patère</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">marloupatte</i>, <i lang="fr">marloupin</i> (<i>see</i> <i lang="fr">marlou</i>); <i lang="fr">marquant</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">mec</i> (popular and thieves’); <i lang="fr">mec de la guiche</i> (so called from his kiss-curls—<i lang="fr">des guiches</i> = kiss-curls); <i lang="fr">monsieur à nageoires</i> (lit. gentleman with fins); <i lang="fr">monsieur à rouflaquettes</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">rouflaquettes</i> = aggerawators, <i>q.v.</i>); <i lang="fr">neg en viande chaude</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">neg</i> is an abbreviation of <i lang="fr">négociant</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, merchant, dealer; <i lang="fr">viande chaude</i> = hot meat); <i lang="fr">patenté</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">patente</i> is the name of a cap worn by the fraternity); <i lang="fr">porte-nageoires</i> (<i>see</i> <i lang="fr">monsieur à nageoires</i>); <i lang="fr">roi de la mer</i> (popular: lit. king of the sea. <i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="fr">maquereau</i>, <i lang="fr">poisson</i>, etc.); <i lang="fr">rouflaquette</i> (<i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="fr">monsieur à rouflaquettes</i>); <i lang="fr">roule-en-cul</i>, <i lang="fr">soixante-six</i> (popular: insulting terms which might be translated by ‘pensioner,’ with an obscene +prefix); <i lang="fr">un qui va aux épinards</i> (popular: one who receives money from a prostitute, <i lang="fr">épinards</i> = spinach. <i>Cf.</i>, ‘to take one’s greens’); <i lang="fr">valet de cœur</i> (popular: the lover of a prostitute); <i lang="fr">visqueux</i> (properly this signifies ‘viscous,’ ‘slimy,’ ‘clammy’; the term is applied to the +lowest type of <span class="sc">bullies</span>); <i lang="fr">bibi</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">bras de fer</i> (lit. ‘arm of iron’). +</p> +<p class="cit">1729. <span class="sc">Gay</span>, <i>Polly</i>, Act ii., Sc. 7. <i>Jimmy</i>: Sure never was such insolence! how could you leave me with this bawdy-house <span class="sc">bully</span>? +</p> +<p class="cit">1753. <i>Adventurer</i>, No. 100. I learned to pack cards and to cog a die; became a <span class="sc">bully</span> to whores. +</p> +<p class="cit">1766. <span class="sc">Goldsmith</span>, <i>Vicar of Wakefield</i>, ch. xx. The lady was only a woman of the town, and the fellow her <span class="sc">bully</span> and a sharper. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act. ii., Sc. 4. <i>M’L.</i> Plaise your honour, I have brought before your worship a most notorious prostitute +and common street walker, who, for her foul doings, has been cooped up in the Poultry +Comptor, as often as there are years in a week.—I caught her charging these honest +gentlemen (<i>pointing to Tom and Jerry</i>) in a most impositious manner, and when I civilly axed her, how she could think of +getting drunk, and acting so, she called her <span class="sc">bullies</span> here. (<i>Pointing to Kate and Sue.</i>) +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">A. Dobson</span>, <i>Fielding</i>, p. 129. Probably a professed <i>sabreur</i>, if not a salaried <span class="sc">bully</span> like Captain Stab in the <i>Rake’s Progress</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Daily News</i>, 15 July, 6, 5. It was not an uncommon thing for a prostitute to solicit a man, and +if he refused her importunities, to call upon a ‘<span class="sc">bully</span>,’ and complain that she had been assaulted. +</p> +<p>2. (Eton College.)—A <i>melée</i> at football; the equivalent of the Rugby ‘scrimmage’ and the Winchester ‘hot.’ It +is where the majority of players play. +</p> +<p>3. (nautical.)—A term of endearment in use amongst sailors. Equivalent to ‘pal,’ ‘mate,’ +and similar terms. In this sense it has long been in use, Shakspeare often employing +it. Probably hence arose the American <span class="pageNum" id="pb371">[<a href="#pb371">371</a>]</span>and colonial adjectival use of the word in the sense of fine, ‘crack.’ +</p> +<p>4. (American thieves’.)—A weapon formed by tying a stone or a piece of lead in a handkerchief. +This is used knuckleduster fashion. +</p> +<p><i>Adj.</i> (American).—Fine; capital; crack; ‘spiff.’ Applied to persons only, this adjective +is traceable as far back as 1681; it seems, however, to have fallen into disuetude +and to have been subsequently revived in a much more extended sense in the U.S.A., +whence it has made the circuit of the English speaking world. Now applied to anything +deserving of commendation, and used very much in the same way and with the same shades +of meaning as ‘crack.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> <i>See</i> A1. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> In addition to those given under A1 may be mentioned the following:—<i lang="fr">muche</i>; <i lang="fr">pas piqué des hannetons</i> (popular: literally not bitten or stung by May-bugs or cockchafers). +</p> +<p class="cit">1681. <span class="sc">Chetham</span>, <i>Anglers’ Vade Mecum</i> (1689), pref. From such <span class="sc">bully</span> fishers this book expects no other reception. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <i>Cairo City Times.</i> The <span class="sc">bully</span> steamboat ‘Crystal Palace’ passed up to St. Louis on Monday. We have no doubt she +left papers. +</p> +<p class="cit">1870. <span class="sc">Meade</span>, <i>New Zealand</i>, p. 331. The roof fell in, there was a ‘<span class="sc">bully</span>’ blaze. +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <i>N. Amer. Review</i>, vol. CXX., p. 128. ‘That,’ replied Earney, ‘is Mercury, the god of merchants and +thieves.’ ‘Good! that’s <span class="sc">bully</span>!’ exclaimed Tweed. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Bret Harte</span>, <i>A Lonely Ride</i>. ‘I thought you changed horses on the road?’ ‘So we did. Two hours ago.’ ‘That’s +odd. I didn’t notice it.’ ‘Must have been asleep sir. Hope you had a pleasant nap. +<span class="sc">Bully</span> place for a nice quiet snooze,—empty stage, sir!’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">That’s bully for you</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—Grand or fine; this phrase, during the Civil War, had a remarkably popular +run. +</p> +<p class="cit">1873. <span class="sc">Justin McCarthy</span>, <i>Fair Saxon</i>, ch. xix. ‘Darling boy! I had thought of this already.’ ‘<span class="sc">Bully for you</span>, mamma! Of course you did.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Bully boy</span> or <span class="sc">bully boy with the glass eye</span>, <i>phr.</i> (American).—A good fellow. +</p> +<p class="cit">1815. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Guy Mannering</i>, ch. xxxiv. ‘Well said, my hearty captain!’ cried Glossin, endeavouring to catch +the tone of revelry.… ‘That’s it, my <span class="sc">bully boy</span>! Why, you’re alive again now!—’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1817. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Rob Roy</i>, ch. viii. ‘And you, Mr. Frank Osbaldistone, are not the first <span class="sc">bully-boy</span> that has said stand to a true man.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <span class="sc">S. L. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>Innocents at Home</i>, p. 20. You ought to seen him get started once. He was a <span class="sc">bully boy with a glass eye</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bully-Back</b> or <b>Bully-Buck</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Thus described by Grose: A bully to a bawdy house, one who is kept in pay, +to oblige the frequenters of the house to submit to the impositions of the mother +abbess or bawd, and who also sometimes pretends to be the husband of one of the ladies, +and under that pretence extorts money from greenhorns, or ignorant young men, whom +he finds with her. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bully-boss</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1626. <span class="sc">Amherst</span>, <i>Terræ Fil.</i>, xxxiii., 179. They have spirtual bravves on their side, and old lecherous <span class="sc">bully-backs</span> to revenge their cause. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bully Beef</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—Tinned meat. Also called <span class="sc">iron ration</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). In the navy by <span class="pageNum" id="pb372">[<a href="#pb372">372</a>]</span><span class="sc">bully-beef</span> is meant boiled salt beef. [This may either be a corruption of <span class="sc">bull beef</span> or from the French <i lang="fr">bouilli</i>, boiled meat.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Clark Russell</span>, <i>Sailors’ Language</i>, pref., xii. Soup-and-bouilli is another standing sea dish, and, taking it all round, +is the most disgusting of the provisions served out to the merchant sailor. I have +known many a strong stomach, made food-proof by years of pork eaten with molasses, +and biscuit alive with worms, to be utterly capsized by the mere smell of soup-and-bouilli. +Jack calls it ‘soap and bullion, one onion to a gallon of water,’ and thus fairly +expresses the character of the nauseous compound. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Daily News</i>, July 9, p. 6, col. 4. The rations will be of the kind known to Tommy Atkins as ‘<span class="sc">bully beef</span>.’ There may be in it a considerable proportion of mutton, but that makes no difference +to him. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bully-Boss</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—The landlord of a brothel or thieves’ den. [From <span class="sc">bully</span>, sense 1 (<i>q.v.</i>), + <span class="sc">boss</span>, a master.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bully-Buck.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bully-back</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bully Cock</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. <i>See</i> quot. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bully-cock</span>, one who foments quarrels in order to rob the persons quarrelling. +</p> +<p>2. <i>subs.</i> (old).—A low round hat with broad brim.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Billy-cock</span>. +</p> +<p>3. (old.)—A man who sets other people by the ears, so that, while they quarrel, he +may rob them with impunity. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bullyrag</b> or <b>Ballyrag</b>, <i>verb</i> (colloquial).—To revile; abuse; scold vehemently—usually in vulgar or obscene language; +also to swindle by means of intimidation. [The etymology is unknown.] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Arranger aux petits oignons</i>; <i lang="fr">monter une gamme</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">gamme</i> = thrashing or ‘walloping’); <i lang="fr">habiller quelqu’un de taffetas</i> (popular: <i>i.e.</i>, to clothe anyone with fear; <i>Cf.</i>, ‘clothed with shame’); <i lang="fr">agonir</i> (popular: ‘to haul over the coals’; properly ‘to pull to pieces’); <i lang="fr">secouer les puces à quel-qu’un</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">secouer</i> = to shake; <i lang="fr">puces</i> = fleas. <i>Cf.</i>, ‘to send one away with a flea in the ear’). +</p> +<p class="cit">1760. <span class="sc">T. Warton</span>, <i>Oxford Newsman’s Verses</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">On Minden’s plains, ye meek Mounseers! </p> +<p class="line">Remember Kingsley’s grenadiers. </p> +<p class="line">You vainly thought to <span class="sc">ballarag</span> us, </p> +<p class="line">Like your fine squadron off Cape Lagos. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1861. <span class="sc">Charles Lever</span>, <i>One of Them</i>, p. 36. He <span class="sc">bullyragged</span> me. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">S. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>Tom Sawyer</i>, p. 118. I don’t want nothing better ’n this; I don’t git enough to eat gin’ally,—and +here they can’t come and pick a feller and <span class="sc">bullyrag</span> him so. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Jas. Greenwood</span>, <i>Maids in Waiting</i>, in <i>Odd People in Odd Places</i>, p. 143. You should have heard the <span class="sc">bullyragging</span> I got, ma’am, from the mistress and the master as well, and I was turned out in the +shameful way I’ve already explained to you, for doing what was no wrong at all, but +only what me good-nature tempted me to. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <span class="sc">Jas. Payn</span>, <i>Talk of the Town</i>, ch. v. He had never been ‘<span class="sc">bally-ragged</span>’ in his own house for ‘nothing’—except by his wife—before. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bullyragging</b>, <i>verb, subs.</i> (colloquial).—Scolding; abuse; and sometimes swindling. [From <span class="sc">bullyrag</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">ing</span>.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Wigging</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <span class="sc">H. Kingsley</span>, <i>Austin Elliot</i>, ch. xviii. ‘It would be a good thing for <i>she</i> … if she could bully Miss Eleanor into marrying Captain Hertford, and then that the +pair on ’em should have the bullying and <span class="sc">bally-ragging</span> of nine thousand a year.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Mrs. Parr</span>, <i>Adam and Eve</i>, xxi., 292. There’ll be more set to the score o’ my coaxin’ than ever ‘all be to +Adam’s <span class="sc">bully-ragging</span>.’ [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb373">[<a href="#pb373">373</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, Oct. 19, p. 3, col. 1. ‘And you should have heard the <span class="sc">bully-ragging</span> I got, ma’am, from the mistress and the master as well.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bully-Rook</b> or <b>Bully-Rock</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Originally this term seems to have been applied to a pleasant or boon-companion; +later, however, to a swaggerer, a bully, a bravo. [Thought by most etymologists to +be a combination of <span class="sc">bully</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">rook</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), a sharper.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1596. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Merry Wives of Windsor</i>, Act i., Sc. 3. Why says my <span class="sc">bully-rook</span>? +</p> +<p class="cit">1633. <span class="sc">Shirley</span>, <i>Wittie Faire One</i>, Act iii., Sc. 4. Such in the spirit of sack, till we be delphic, and prophesy, my +<span class="sc">bully-rook</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1697. <i>Praise of Yorkshire Ale.</i> My <span class="sc">bully-rocks</span>, I’ve been experienced long <span class="sic">In</span> most of Liquors. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <span class="sc">B. Martin</span>, <i>Eng. Dict.</i> (2 ed.). Bully, or <span class="sc">bully-rock</span>, 1. a boisterous, hectoring fellow. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bully Ruffian</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A footpad or highwayman, who, to the injury of robbery, added the insult of +coarse invective. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bridle-cull</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bully Trap</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A man who, though of mild outside demeanour, is a match for any ruffian who +may attack him. Quoted by Grose [1785]. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bully Up</b> (Uppingham School), <i>verb</i>.—To hurry up. Mostly used in the imperative. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bum</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vulgar).—1. The posteriors; or, as Jamieson puts it, ‘the part on which we sit.’ +[Considerable doubt exists as to the origin of this familiar term. Murray thinks the +guess that <span class="sc">bum</span> is an abbreviation of ‘bottom’ is at variance with the historical fact that the latter, +in this sense, is found only from the eighteenth century; besides which there are +phonetic difficulties. The origin is probably <span class="corr" id="xd33e66382" title="Source: onamatopoetic">onomatopoetic</span>.] Besides the synonyms mentioned under <span class="sc">Blind cheeks</span>, the following may be cited: +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> Bum-fiddle; bumpkin. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Le foiron</i> (popular: from <i lang="fr">foire</i> = diarrhœa); <i lang="fr">le tal</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">le garde-manger</i> (popular: Michel says this expression is an old one and is to be found in ‘<i lang="fr">Curiositez françoises</i>’ in the sense of ‘a necessary house’); <i lang="fr">le naze</i> (equivalent to ‘smeller,’ or ‘smelling cheat’); <i lang="fr">le soufflet</i> (popular: literally ‘a pair of bellows’); <i lang="fr">le prouas</i> (the same as <i lang="fr">le prose</i>, of nautical origin); <i lang="fr">la contre-basse</i> (popular: the ‘double bass.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="la">Ars musica</i>); <i lang="fr">le schaffouse</i> (popular: a play of words, the town of that name being situated on the Lower Rhine—<i lang="fr">chute du Rhein</i>, and <i lang="fr">chute du rein</i>, the lower part of the back); <i lang="fr">le gingin</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">la tabatière</i> (popular: literally ‘the snuff-box’); <i lang="fr">la tire-lire</i> (popular: Rigaud says this term is in allusion to the means of subsistence [daily +bread] of prostitutes); <i lang="fr">la giberne</i> (literally ‘cartridge-box’); <i lang="fr">le proye</i> (an old canting term); <i lang="fr">le cadet</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">la figure</i> (<i>i.e.</i>, ‘the face.’ <i>Cf.</i>, ‘cheeks’); <i lang="fr">la canonnière</i> (literally ‘a drain pipe’ or ‘pop-gun’); <i lang="fr">l’oignon</i> (literally ‘the onion’); <i lang="fr">la machine à moulures</i>; <i lang="fr">le département du bas Rhin</i> (‘the department of the Lower Rhine<span>’</span>; <i lang="fr">rein</i> = back—a play upon words); <i lang="fr">le démoc</i>; <i lang="fr">le schelingophone</i>; <span class="pageNum" id="pb374">[<a href="#pb374">374</a>]</span><i lang="fr">le Prussien</i> (from the Gypsy <i>prusiatin̆i</i>, translated by Borrow as ‘pistol’); <i lang="fr">le panier aux crottes</i> (<i lang="fr">panier</i> = basket; <i lang="fr">crottes</i> = dung); <i lang="fr">le visage de campagne</i>; <i lang="fr">le fignard</i> (<i>i.e.</i>, ‘a one-eyed cheek’); <i lang="fr">le visage sans nez</i> (<i>i.e.</i>, ‘the face without a nose’); <i lang="fr">le pétrouskin</i>; <i lang="fr">le face du grand Turc</i>; <i lang="fr">le tortillon</i>; <i lang="fr">le fleurant</i> (popular: also ‘a nose-gay’); <i lang="fr">le pedzouille</i> (familiar: ‘a peasant’ or ‘clod’); <i lang="fr">le cadran</i> or <i lang="fr">le cadran lunaise</i> (<i lang="fr">cadran</i> = dial); <i lang="fr">le piffe</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">le médaillon</i> (popular: literally ‘a medallion’ or ‘locket’); <i lang="fr">l’arrière-train</i> (familiar: lit. ‘after-carriage’); <i lang="fr">le trèfle</i> (popular: this also signifies ‘tobacco’); <i lang="fr">messire Luc</i> (familiar: ‘Mr. Luke,’ sometimes also ‘<i lang="fr">Nancy</i>.’ <i>Cf.</i>, Mrs. Jones); <i lang="fr">le moulin à vent</i> (lit. the ‘windmill’); <i lang="fr">le ponant</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">la lune</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">lune</i> in slang means a large full face); <i lang="fr">le bienséant</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">le pétard</i> (popular and thieves’: it also stands for <i lang="fr">sou</i>; in the Normandy patois <i lang="fr">pétra</i> is used interchangeably with <i lang="fr">pétard</i>); <i lang="fr">le ballon</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">ballon</i> = balloon; the analogy is obvious); <i lang="fr">le moutardier</i> (<i>i.e.</i>, the mustard-pot); <i lang="fr">le baril de moutarde</i> (cads’: the mustard barrel); <i lang="fr">l’obusier</i> (lit. the howitzer). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">German Synonyms.</span> <i lang="de">Tochas</i>; <i lang="de">Toges</i>; <i lang="de">Doges</i>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Italian Synonym.</span> <i lang="it">Rioppo.</i> +</p> +<p class="cit">1387. <span class="sc">Trevisa</span>, <i>Higden Rolls</i>, 6 S., 357. It semeth that his <span class="sc">bom</span> is oute that hath that euel [<i>ficus</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, piles]. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Mids. Night’s Dream</i>, ii., 1, l. 51. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The wisest aunt telling the saddest tale, </p> +<p class="line">Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me; </p> +<p class="line">Then slip I from her <span class="sc">bum</span>, down topples she, </p> +<p class="line">And <i>tailor</i> cries, and falls into a couch; </p> +<p class="line">And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1600. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Shoemaker’s Holiday</i>, in wks. (1873) I., 39. Art thou acquainted with neuer a fardingale-maker, nor a +French-hood maker, I must enlarge my <span class="sc">bumme</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1609. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Timon of Athens</i>, Act i., Sc. 2. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line xd33e31485">What a coil’s here! </p> +<p class="line">Serving of becks, and jutting out of <span class="sc">bums</span>! </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1614. <span class="sc">Jonson</span>, <i>Bartholomew Fair</i>, iv., 4. Your breeches sit close enough to your <span class="sc">bum</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1729. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Intelligencer</i>, No. 8, p. 83 (2 ed.). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">And first his <span class="sc">bum</span> you see him clap </p> +<p class="line">Upon the Queen of Sheba’s lap. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1742. <span class="sc">Shenstone</span>, <i>Schoolmistress</i>, st. 18. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">All, but the wight of <span class="sc">bum</span> y-galled, he </p> +<p class="line">Abhors both bench, and stool, and fourm, and chair. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1782. <span class="sc">Wolcot</span>, <i>Lyric Odes</i>, No. i., in wks. (1809) I., 12. That lazy <span class="sc">bum</span>-delighting thing, Ridly the Chancellor. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—An abbreviated form Of <span class="sc">bum bailiff</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1663. <span class="sc">Butler</span>, <i>Hudibras</i>, I., i., 393. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">It had appeared with courage bolder, </p> +<p class="line">Then Sergeant <span class="sc">Bum</span>, invading shoulder. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1698–1700. <span class="sc">Ward</span>, <i>London Spy</i>, pt. VII., p. 153. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The Vermin of the Law, the <span class="sc">Bum</span>, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Who gladly kept his distance, </p> +<p class="line">Does safely now in Triumph come. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1845. <span class="sc">Disraeli</span>, <i>Sybil</i>, bk. III., ch. i. ‘Juggings has got his rent to pay, and is afeard of the <span class="sc">bums</span>.’ +</p> +<p>3. (public schools’.)—A birching; ‘hiding’ or ‘tanning.’ For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Tanning</span>. <i>Cf.</i>, also <span class="sc">Bash</span> and <span class="sc">Baste</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (old).—To arrest. [An obvious allusion to the duty of a <span class="sc">bum</span> or <span class="sc">bum-bailiff</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Cherry Bums</span>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—The 11th Hussars. <span class="sc">Cherry-bum</span> is a corruption of Cherubim; but the obvious reference is to the scarlet trowsers +worn by this branch of the service. A similar <span class="pageNum" id="pb375">[<a href="#pb375">375</a>]</span>nickname is given to the French Chasseurs—<i lang="fr">Culs rouges</i>.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Cherubim</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To toe one’s bum</span>, <i>phr.</i> (low).—An implied threat of physical castigation, rarely, however, carried out literally; +to put or ‘chuck’ out; to show the door to—either will explain the meaning. Sometimes +the phrase occurs as ‘<span class="sc">to hoof one’s bum</span>.’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Sauter sur la contrebasse</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">filer un coup de trottinet dans l’oignon</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">boucher la lumière</i> (popular: properly ‘to stuff up the touch-hole’); <i lang="fr">enlever le ballon à quelqu’un</i> (popular: the allusion is to raising an air balloon with the foot); <i lang="fr">donner un coup de pied juste au bon endroit</i> (popular: ‘to give a kick just in the right part’); <i lang="fr">botter</i> (popular: literally ‘to make’ or ‘supply anyone with boots’); <i lang="fr">détacher un coup de pinceau dans la giberne</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">coup de pinceau</i> = ‘a kick,’ or ‘a blow with the foot’; <i lang="fr">giberne</i> = cartridge-box or, in slang, the breech); <i lang="fr">crever un œil à quelqu’un</i> (popular: ‘to stave in one’s eye.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Cyclops</span>); <i lang="fr">graisser le train derrière</i> (<i>i.e.</i>, ‘to grease the hinder carriage.’ <i>Cf.</i>, Eng. <span class="sc">Basting</span>); <i lang="fr">détruire le faubourg à quelqu’un</i> (popular: properly <span class="sc">faubourg</span> = suburb or outskirt); <i lang="fr">enlever le schelingophone à quelqu’un</i> (popular). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bum Bags</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—Trowsers. [From <span class="sc">bum</span>, the posteriors, + <span class="sc">bags</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bum Bailiff</b>, also <b>Bum Baily</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—An opprobrious name for a bailiff or sheriff’s officer. Frequently contracted +into <span class="sc">bum</span> or <span class="sc">bummy</span>. [Thought to be derived from <span class="sc">bum</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), an allusion to the proximity of such gentry to debtors’ backs, + <span class="sc">bailiff</span>; there is no reason to suppose, as suggested, that the term is a corruption of <span class="sc">bound-bailiff</span>. The French have <i lang="fr">pousse cul</i>, and it is curious that this term is also, in common use, abbreviated to <i lang="fr">cul</i>, answering to the English contraction, <span class="sc">bum</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1602. <span class="sc">Shakespeare</span>, <i>Twelfth Night</i>, Act iii., Sc. 4. <i>Sir Jo.</i> Go, Sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the orchard like a <span class="sc">bum-baily</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1628. <span class="sc">H. Shirley</span>, <i>Martyr’d Souldier</i>, Act v. I was first a Varlet, then a <span class="sc">Bum-baily</span>, now an under Jailor. +</p> +<p class="cit">1761. <span class="sc">Dr. Hawkesworth</span>, <i>Edgar and Emmeline</i>, ii., 1. By the heavens! she has the gripe of a <span class="sc">bum-bailiff</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. xvii. ‘We are in right opposition to sign and seal, writ and warrant, serjeant +and tipstaff, catch-poll and <span class="sc">bum-bailey</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <span class="sc">Mrs. H. Wood</span>, <i>Roland Yorke</i>, ch. xxxii. ‘You know the state we were in all the summer: Gerald next to penniless, +and going about in fear of the <span class="sc">bum-bailies</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bum Bass</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Explained by quot. +</p> +<p class="cit">1809. <span class="sc">S. Pegge</span>, <i>Anonymiana</i>, p. 415 (ed. 1809). The humble-bee ought rather, perhaps, to be called the bumble-bee +as it is in some parts, from the deepness of the note, just as the violoncello is +called by the vulgar a <span class="sc">bum-bass</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bumble</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A beadle. [This term originated in the name of the beadle in Dickens’ <i>Oliver Twist</i>, although it may be noted that in the seventeenth century <span class="sc">bumble</span> signified a confusion, a jumble. Hence <span class="sc">bumbler</span>, an idle fellow, or blunderer. A French equivalent is <i lang="fr">chasse-coquin</i> (literally a beggar driver). <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bumble-crew</span> and <span class="sc">Bumbledom</span>.] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb376">[<a href="#pb376">376</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Punch</i>, August 4, p. 51, col. 1. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">A helpless ‘nuisance’ shunned by the Inspector, </p> +<p class="line">Ignored by <span class="sc">bumbles</span> and by Boards of Works. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bumble-Crew</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A collective name for corporations, vestries, and other official bodies. +[From <span class="sc">bumble</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">crew</span>.]—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bumbledom</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bumbledom</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—A term applied to the spirit of collective petty officialism; red tape +fussiness and pomposity. [From <span class="sc">bumble</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">dom</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <i>Saturday Review</i>, II., p. 12, col. 1. The collective <span class="sc">Bumbledom</span> of Westminster. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Daily News</i>, Dec. 27, p. 6, col. 1. Our scheme is unfolded to the chief officer—not the slightest +trace of <span class="sc">bumbledom</span> about him—a kind-hearted, genial, happy-faced individual. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bumble Puppy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—Family whist, <i>i.e.</i>, ‘unscientific’ whist. Also applied, says Hotten, to a game played in public houses +on a large stone, placed in a slanting direction, on the lower end of which holes +are made, and numbered like the holes in a bagatelle-table. The player rolls a stone +ball, or marble, from the higher end, and according to the number of the hole it falls +into the game is counted. It is undoubtedly the very ancient game of <i>Troule-in-madame</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Daily News</i>, Dec. 25, p. 5, col. 2. Christmas cards, and mince-pies, and another helping of turkey, +and family whist, or <span class="sc">bumble puppy</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bumbles</b>, <i>subs.</i> (general).—Coverings for the eyes of horses that shy in harness. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Blinkers</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bumbo</b>, <i>subs.</i> (West Indian.)—1. The female <i>pudenda</i>; a term applied by negroes. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Monosyllable</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—Smollett, in a note to the first quotation as follows, says <span class="sc">bumbo</span> was a liquor composed of ‘rum, sugar, water, and nutmeg.’ Grose gives it as ‘brandy, +water, and sugar’—the component parts seem to vary according to taste. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Rod. Random</i>, ch. xxxiv. Who were making merry in the ward-room, round a table well stored with +<span class="sc">bumbo</span> and wine. +</p> +<p class="cit">1756. <i>Diary of a Sussex Tradesman</i>, in Sussex <i>Arch. Coll.</i>, IX., 188, quoted in <i>N. and Q.</i>, 7 S., i., 194. 1756, April 28. I went down to Jones’, where we drank one bowl of +punch and two muggs of <span class="sc">bumboo</span>, and I came home again in liquor. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Northumbrian Minstrelsy</i>, etc., p. 113, quoted in <i>N. and Q.</i>, 7 S., i., 195. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The pitmen and the keelmen trim, </p> +<p class="line">They drink <span class="sc">bumbo</span> made of gin. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bum-Brusher</b>, <i>subs.</i> (schoolboys’).—A schoolmaster; also applied to an usher. [From <span class="sc">bum</span>, the posteriors, + <span class="sc">brusher</span>, in allusion to the office a schoolmaster is sometimes called upon to perform by +way of punishment.<span class="corr" id="xd33e67213" title="Not in source">]</span> +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> Flaybottom; haberdasher of pronouns. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Un marchand de soupe</i> (<i lang="fr">marchand</i> = merchant; <i lang="fr">soupe</i> = soup); <i lang="fr">un chien de cour</i> (<i>i.e.</i>, ‘a watch-dog’); <i lang="fr">un fouette-cul</i> (a literal translation of <span class="sc">bum-brusher</span>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1704. <span class="sc">T. Brown</span>, wks. (1760) II., 86. [Dionysius] was forced to turn <span class="sc">bum-brusher</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1788. <i>New London Magazine</i>, p. 137. A successor was immediately called from that great nursery of <span class="sc">bum-brushers</span>, Appleby School. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb377">[<a href="#pb377">377</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1832. <i>Blackwood’s Mag.</i>, Oct., p. 426. To protract existence … in the shape of <span class="sc">bum-brushers</span>, and so forth, after the fashion of the exalted emigrés of 1792? +</p> +<p class="cit">1838. <i>Comic Almanac</i>, Dec. [School-master’s Letter signed] Barnabas <span class="sc">Bom-brush</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bum Charter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—Explained by quot. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Memoirs</i>. <span class="sc">Bum-charter</span> is the name given to bread steeped in hot water by the first unfortunate inhabitants +of the English Bastile, where this miserable fare was their daily breakfast, each +man receiving with his scanty portion of bread a quart of boiled water from the Cook’s +Coppers. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bumclink</b>, <i>subs.</i> (provincial).—In the Midland counties the inferior beer brewed for hay-makers and +harvest labourers. [Derivation obvious.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Swipes</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bum Curtain</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Cambridge Univ.).—1. An academical gown when worn scant and short; especially applied +to the short black gown worn till 1835 by members of Caius College. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bum-perisher</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. (Quoted in Whibley’s <i>Three Centuries of Cambridge Wit</i> [1889].) +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">’Tis the College of Caius—’tis the land where the ‘<span class="sc">Bum</span> </p> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">Curtain</span>’ lately was sported by each jolly chum, </p> +<p class="line">But now black and blue are the gowns that they wear </p> +<p class="line">Like the eye of a drunkard returned from a fair. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bumf</b>, <i>subs.</i> (schooboys’).—Paper. [An abbreviation of <span class="sc">bum-fodder</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), an obvious allusion to toilet paper.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bumfhunt</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Wellington College).—A paper-chase. [Derived from the popular schoolboy name for +paper, <i>i.e.</i>, <span class="sc">bumf</span> (<i>q.v.</i>).] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bum Fiddle</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—The posteriors. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Blind cheeks</span> and <span class="sc">Bum</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bum Fidget</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A restless individual. [Obviously from <span class="sc">bum</span>, the posterior, + <span class="sc">fidget</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, one who cannot sit still.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bum Fodder</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. Low class worthless literature; a term once in literary use.—<i>See</i> sense 2. +</p> +<p class="cit">1653. <span class="sc">Urquhart</span>, <i>Rabelais</i>, I., xiii. Torche-culs, arsewisps, <span class="sc">bum fodders</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1753. <i>Scots’ Magazine</i>, April, p. 208, col. 1 (title). <span class="sc">Bum fodder</span> for the ladies. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p>2. (low.)—Toilet paper, otherwise known as <span class="sc">curl paper</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). <i>Cf.</i> <span class="sc">Bumf</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Bum fodder</span>, soft paper for the necessary house, or torche-cul. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bummaree</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A Billingsgate middle-man. These men, who are not recognised as regular +salesmen by the trade, are speculative buyers of large quantities of fish, which they +re-sell in smaller lots. [The origin of the name is unknown, though some have speculated +that it may be from the French <i lang="fr">bon marée</i>; others, however, think that it is akin to <i lang="fr">bomerie</i>, a French word for what in England is known as ‘bottomry,’ <i>i.e.</i>, the act of borrowing money and pledging the bottom of the ship, <i>i.e.</i>, the ship itself, for the re-payment of the money. It is argued that the leading +idea in thus borrowing money on a ship’s keel is the hazarding all on a single venture: +hence possibly its application to other transactions, especially those connected with +<span class="pageNum" id="pb378">[<a href="#pb378">378</a>]</span>the sea; such as wholesale purchases of fish, in which a large risk is run with an +uncertain prospect of return—which is, it must be confessed, a somewhat far-fetched +derivation.] This wholesale retailing of fish is also called <span class="sc">bummareeing it</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1786. <i>Report of Committee of City of London on Price of Provisions</i>, 31. The <span class="sc">bomarees</span> will buy up half the fish the Salesmen have, and sell to the Fishmongers. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, I., 71. In Billingsgate the ‘forestallers’ or middle men are known as <span class="sc">bummarees</span>.… The <span class="sc">bummaree</span> is the jobber or speculator on the fish exchange. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">Sala</span>, <i>Twice Round the Clock</i>, 4 a.m., p. 17. Any one can be a <span class="sc">bumbaree</span>.… The process of <span class="sc">bumbareeing</span> is very simple. It consists in buying as largely as your means will afford of an +auctioneer, hiring a stall for sixpence, and retailing the fish at a swingeing profit. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bummed</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (old).—Arrested. <i>Cf.</i> <i>verb</i>, <span class="sc">Bum</span> and <span class="sc">Bum-bailiff</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bummer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old.)—1. A <span class="sc">bum-bailiff</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p>2. (turf.)—A heavy loss; a severe pecuniary reverse. +</p> +<p>3. (American.)—An idler; loafer; sponger; looter (<i>see</i> quots.). [From the German <i lang="de">bummler</i>, with a somewhat similar meaning, save that the term is used good naturedly, and +has not altogether the offensive meaning of the American equivalent.] The term came +into general use at the time of the Civil War, when it was specially applied to a +straggler, hanger-on, or free-lance, particularly in connection with General Sherman’s +famous march from Atlanta to the sea. Besides its political signification, <span class="sc">bummer</span> is used as a general term of reproach in the same way as rascal, blackleg, etc., +are used in England. Other equivalents are <span class="sc">heeler</span>, <span class="sc">striker</span>, <span class="sc">stuffer</span>, and <span class="sc">practical politician</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>a.</i> 1865. <span class="sc">Major Nichols</span>, <i>Sherman’s Great March</i>. Look hyar, Captain, we <span class="sc">bummers</span> ain’t so bad after all. We keep ahead of the skirmish line allers; we let’s ’em know +when an enemy’s a comin’, and then we ain’t allus away from the regiment. We turns +over all we don’t want ourselves, and we can lick five times as many Rebs as we are +any day. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <span class="sc">S. L. Clemens</span> (‘Mark Twain’), <i>Roughing It</i>, ch. xxiv. The auctioneer stormed up and down the streets on him for four days, dispersing +the populace, interrupting business, and destroying children, and never got a bid—at +least never any but the eighteen-dollar one he hired, a notoriously substanceless +<span class="sc">bummer</span>, to make. The people only smiled pleasantly, and restrained their desire to buy, +if they had any. +</p> +<p class="cit">1872. <i>Sacramento Weekly Union</i>, Feb. 24, p. 2. All the boys to be trained as scriveners, tape-measurers, counter-hoppers, +clerks, pettifoggers, polite loafers, street-hounds, hoodlums, and <span class="sc">bummers</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <i>Scribner’s Magazine</i>, p. 274. San Francisco is the Elysium of <span class="sc">bummers</span>. Nowhere can a worthless fellow, too lazy to work, too cowardly to steal, get on +so well. The climate befriends him, for he can sleep out of doors four-fifths of the +year. He can gorge himself daily for a nominal sum, and get a dinner that a king might +envy for fifty cents. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">W. Black</span>, <i>Green Past. and Picc.</i>, ch. xiii. Then the great crowd of <span class="sc">bummers</span> and loafers, not finding the soil teeming with nuggets, stampeded off like a herd +of buffalo. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Philadelphia Press</i>, Jan. 29. Coy is the chairman of the Democratic Central Committee in Marion County, +and has wielded great power in politics as the boss of the <span class="sc">bummers</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Detroit Free Press</i>, May 16. He finds that ten per cent. of the men who patronise these places have a +collegiate education; forty per cent. are self-supporting, but prefer this precarious +mode of living to anything more <span class="pageNum" id="pb379">[<a href="#pb379">379</a>]</span>respectable; ten per cent. earn excellent wages, and twenty per cent. are chronic +<span class="sc">bums</span>, who beg or steal the price of their lodgings. +</p> +<p>Hence <span class="sc">bummerism</span>, to express habits of loafing and petty stealing, and <span class="sc">bummerish</span> (<i>adj.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bumming</b>, <i>verb, subs.</i> (Wellington College).—A thrashing, or licking. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bum</span>, sense 1. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bump</b>, <i>subs.</i> (University).—When one boat touches another in a race it is said to ‘make a <span class="sc">bump</span>,’ and technically beats its opponent. <i>Cf.</i>, <i>verbal</i> sense, and <span class="sc">Bumping race</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To overtake and touch an opposing boat, thus winning the heat or race. +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Pendennis</i>, ch. iii. He listened, and with respect too, to Mr. Foker’s accounts of what the +men did at the University of which Mr. F. was an ornament, and encountered a long +series of stories about boat-racing, <span class="sc">bumping</span>, College grass-plats, and milk-punch. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <i>Macmillan’s Magazine</i>, March, p. 331. The chances of St. Ambrose’s making a <span class="sc">bump</span> the first night were weighed. +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <i>Sketches from Cambridge</i>, p. 7. I can still condescend to give our boat a stout when it makes a <span class="sc">bump</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886–7. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Dictionary of Cambridge</i>, p. 11. Any boat which overtakes and <span class="sc">bumps</span> another … before the winning post is reached, changes place with it for the next +race. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bumper</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. Anything of superlative size, whether a ‘big lie,’ horse, house, or +woman. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Corker</span>, <span class="sc">Whopper</span>, and <span class="sc">Thumper</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (theatrical<span class="corr" id="xd33e67698" title="Source: .)">).</span>—A full or crowded house. +</p> +<p class="cit">1838. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Nich. Nickleby</i>, ch. xxiv., p. 192. ‘In the confidence that our fellow-towsmen have not lost that +high appreciation of public utility and private worth, for which they have long been +so pre-eminently distinguished, we predict that this charming actress will be greeted +with a <span class="sc">bumper</span>.<span>’</span> +</p> +<p>3. (cards’.)—When, in long whist, one side has scored eight before the other has scored +a point, a <span class="sc">bumper</span> is the result. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bum-Perisher</b>, <b>Bum-Shaver</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A short-tailed coat; a jacket. [From <span class="sc">bum</span>, the posteriors, + <span class="sc">perisher</span>, a slang variant of that which ‘perishes,’ or fails to protect (from cold, etc.).] +<i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bum curtain</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bumping Race</b>, <i>subs.</i> (University).—Eight-oared inter-Collegiate races, rowed in two divisions of fifteen +and sixteen boats respectively, including a <span class="sc">sandwich boat</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), <i>i.e.</i>, the top boat of the second division, which rows bottom of the first. The boats in +each division start at a distance apart of 175 feet from stern to stern in the order +at which they left off at the last preceding race, and any boat which overtakes, and +bumps another (<i>i.e.</i>, touches it in any part) before the winning post is reached, changes place with it +for the next race. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bumpkin</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A humorous term for the posteriors. +</p> +<p class="cit">1658. [In Nares] <i>Wit Restored</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">And so I take my leave; prithee, sweet Thumkin, </p> +<p class="line">Hold up thy coats, that I may kisse thy <span class="sc">bumkin</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Bump-Supper</b>, <i>subs.</i> (University).—A supper to commemorate the fact of the boat of the college having, +in the annual races, ‘<span class="sc">bumped</span>’ or touched the boat of another college immediately in front. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bumping race</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb380">[<a href="#pb380">380</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bumptious</b>, <i>adj.</i> (colloquial).—<span class="corr" id="xd33e67792" title="Source: Arrogrant">Arrogant</span>; self-sufficient; on good terms with oneself. [Murray puts this down as a formation +from <span class="sc">bump</span> on the model of ‘fractious.’ It is of recent introduction.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1803. <span class="sc">Mad. D’Arblay</span>, <i>Diary and Letters</i>, vi., 324. No, my dearest Padre, <span class="sc">bumptious</span>! no, I deny the charge <i>in toto</i>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1849. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>D. Copperfield</i>, ch. vi., p. 53 (C.D.). I heard that Mr. Sharp’s wig didn’t fit him, and that he +needn’t be so ‘bounceable’—somebody else said ‘<span class="sc">bumptious</span>’—about it, because his own red hair was very plainly to be seen behind. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Hawley Smart</span>, <i>Hard Lines</i>, ch. xiii. It was all very well while he was fresh, and having things pretty much +as he liked. So long he was <span class="sc">bumptious</span> enough. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bumptiousness</b>, <i>subs.</i> (colloquial).—Self-assertiveness; arrogance; self-conceit. [From <span class="sc">bumptious</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) + <span class="sc">ness</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <span class="sc">Sala</span>, <i>Trip to Barbary</i>, p. 150. Poor Albert Smith, than whom, with all his occasional <span class="sc">bumptiousness</span>, an honester and more clear-sighted hater of snobbery and shams never lived. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bum Roll</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A pad or cushion worn by women to extend the dress at the back—an equivalent +of the modern bustle or dress-improver. [From <span class="sc">bum</span>, the posteriors, + <span class="sc">roll</span>, in the sense of pad or cushion.] At one time these were called <span class="sc">cork rumps</span>, but for synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Bird-cage</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1601. <span class="sc">Ben Jonson</span>, <i>The Poetaster</i>, II., i. Nor you nor your house was so much as spoken of, before I disbased myself +from my hood and my farthingal, to these <span class="sc">bum-rowls</span>, and your whale-bone bodice. +</p> +<p class="cit">1663. <span class="sc">Killigrew</span>, <i>Parson’s Wedding</i>, <i>Old Plays</i>, XI., 460. Those worthies [of a bawd] rais’d her from the flat petticoat and kercher, +to the gorget and <span class="sc">bum-roll</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bumsquabbled</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (American).—Discomfitted; defeated; stupified. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bum-fiddled</span>, in first quot. +</p> +<p class="cit">1620. <span class="sc">Fletcher</span>, <i>The Chances</i>, I., v. And am I now <span class="sc">bum-fiddled</span> with a bastard? +</p> +<p class="cit">1835–40. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span>, <i>The Clockmaker</i>, p. 251 (ed. 1862). No sooner said than done, Mount Sheer Bullfrog gave the case +in our favour in two twos, said Eyetaliano had got too much already, cut him off the +other two-thirds, and made him pay all costs. If he didn’t look <span class="sc">bumsquabbled</span> it’s a pity. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bum Sucker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (general).—A sponger; toady; lick-spittle; hanger-on. [From <span class="sc">bum</span> + <span class="sc">sucker</span>, allusion obvious.] <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bum</span>. A French equivalent is <i lang="fr">une lèche-cul</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bum Trap</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A bailiff. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bum-bailiff</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1750. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, bk. VII., ch. iii. The noble <span class="sc">bum-trap</span>, blind and deaf to every circumstance of distress, greatly rises above all the motives +to humanity, and into the hands of the jailor resolves to deliver his miserable prey. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bun</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—1. A sponger; one who cannot be shaken off. +</p> +<p>2. (common).—The female <i>pudenda</i>. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Monosyllable</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To take</span> or <span class="sc">yank the bun</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (general).—To take first place; to obtain first honours. A variant of <span class="sc">take the cake</span>.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Cake</span>. The French say <i lang="fr">décrocher la timballe</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bunce</b>, <b>Bunse</b> or <b>Bunt</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Originally money, a signification which it still retains; more generally, +however, profit, gain, anything to the good. [Thought to be a corruption of <span class="pageNum" id="pb381">[<a href="#pb381">381</a>]</span><i>bonus</i>.]—<i>See</i> quot., 1851. For synonyms in the sense of money, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Actual</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1719. <span class="sc">D’Urfey</span>, <i>Pills</i>, 278. If cards come no better. Oh! oh! I shall lose all my <span class="sc">buns</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. I., p. 37. There are still other ‘agents’ among the costermongers, and these +are the ‘boys’ deputed to sell a man’s goods for a certain sum, all over that amount +being the boys’ profit or <span class="sc">bunts</span>. <i>Ibid<span>.</span></i>, p. 526. There are a great number of boys … engaged by costermongers or small tradesmen, +to sell upon commission, or, as it is termed, for <span class="sc">bunse</span> (probably a corruption of <i>bonus</i>, bone being the slang for good).… The mode is this: a certain quantity of saleable +commodities is given to a boy whom a costermonger knows and perhaps employs, and it +is arranged that the young commission-agent is to get a particular sum for them, which +must be paid to the costermonger; I will say 3s. For these articles the lad may ask +and obtain any price he can, and whatever he obtains beyond the stipulated 3s., is +his own profit or <span class="sc">bunse</span>. <i>Ib.</i>, p. 36. But you see the boys will try it on for their <span class="sc">bunts</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <i>A Chequered Career</i>, p. 270. In the stable, and particularly in livery-stables, there is a box into which +all tips are placed. This is called <span class="sc">bunt</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buncer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—One who sells on commission, as described under <span class="sc">bunce</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bunch of Fives</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—The hand or fist. [An obvious allusion to the five fingers gathered or +bunched together on the hand.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1847. <span class="sc">Lytton</span>, <i>Lucretia</i>, pt. II., ch. vii. ‘Is this a h-arm, and this a <span class="sc">bunch of fives</span>?’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <span class="sc">C. Reade</span>, <i>Hard Cash</i>, ch. xxxiv. ‘Now look at that <span class="sc">bunch of fives</span>,’ continued the master; and laid a hand, white and soft as a duchess’s, on the table. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Punch</i>, vol. LXXXII., p. 133, col. 1. He smote crashingly down … with a lead-weighted truncheon +he held in his dexter <span class="sc">bunch of fives</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, April 30, p. 3, col. 2. The fingers are bent into such an ungraceful <span class="sc">bunch of fives</span>, as to be suggestive both of chalkstones and of sausages. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> Mauley; cornstealer; fam or fem (this is said to be of Gypsy origin, and to mean +five, <i>i.e.</i>, five fingers, but <i>see</i> <i lang="de">Fehm</i> in German synonyms); famble (<i>see</i> preceding); picker; goll (a seventeenth century term—‘make them hold up their spread +<span class="sc">golls</span>,’ says Ben Jonson, in the <i>Poetaster</i>); fin; daddle; flipper. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">German Synonyms.</span> <i lang="de">Fehm</i> or <i lang="de">Vehm</i>, or <i lang="de">Vehn</i> (more correctly <i lang="de">Fem</i>. This appears to be the same word as the English seventeenth century colloquialism +for the hand [<i>see</i> preceding], and is most likely derived from the Swedish and Danish <i lang="sv">fem</i> = five, than from the Gypsy which indeed contains no such word); <i>Griffling</i> or <i lang="de">Greifling</i> (from <i lang="de">greifen</i>, to seize); <i lang="de">Jad</i> (Hebrew <i lang="und">jad</i>, the hand); <i lang="de">Kaf</i> (from the Hebrew <i lang="und">kaph</i>; the [hollow] hand). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Italian Synonyms.</span> <i lang="it">Tarantola</i> (an allusion to the many tentacles and close grip of the tarantula spider); <i lang="it">cerra</i>; <i lang="it">calchi dell’ ala</i> (literally the foot of the arm. <i>Cf.</i>, French <i lang="fr">doigts du pied</i>); <i lang="it">grettina</i> (properly a small sandbank). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Spanish Synonyms.</span> <i lang="es">Labradora</i> (this, it is curious to note, is an obsolete Spanish term signifying literally a +laborious or hard-working woman, and the inference from this fact is obvious); <i lang="es">anclas</i> (literally anchors). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bunco</b> or <b>Bunco Game</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A swindling game <span class="pageNum" id="pb382">[<a href="#pb382">382</a>]</span>played either with cards or dice, not unlike three card monté. [From the Italian <i lang="it">banco</i>, a bench or bank]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Philadelphia Times</i>, No. 289, 2. 2. Tom’s method of <span class="sc">bunco</span> was the well-known lottery game. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Daily Inter-Ocean</i>, Feb. 2. Robert B. Barnet, a plumber doing business in Grant Street, this city, was +arrested in Allegheny to-night, on the charge of being implicated in the recent <span class="sc">bunco game</span> in which William Murdoch, an old and prominent citizen, was robbed of 10,000 dols. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—1. To rob, cheat, or swindle by means of the <span class="sc">bunco game</span>; or by what in England is known as the confidence trick, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Cincinnati Enquirer.</i> Detectives Kirby and Funk last night spotted J. P. Ramby, the person accused of having +<span class="sc">bunkoed</span> Ex-County Commissioner Stephens, of Greene <span class="corr" id="xd33e68273" title="Source: Cotnty">County</span>, out of 2,300 dols. in Xenia recently. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Chicago Daily Inter-Ocean</i>, April 14. John Brothers, a farmer living near Canton, Ohio, was <span class="sc">bunkoed</span> out of 2,000 dols. to-day by two sharpers who escaped. +</p> +<p>2. From the primary meaning, the verb <span class="sc">to bunco</span> has come to be synonymous with any attempt at swindling. +</p> +<p>So also with various derivatives, <span class="sc">bunco-case</span>, <span class="sc">bunco-man</span>, <span class="sc">bunco-steerer</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bunco-Steerer</b>, <b>Bunko-Steerer</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—A swindler; confidence-trick man. The means these men adopt to win confidence +are always varied and sometimes unique. They are extremely wary, and it is oftentimes +with considerable difficulty that the arm of the law, long as it is assumed to be, +can lay hold of them. A <span class="sc">bunco-steerer</span> may be well known to the police as a professional swindler, and he may be seen talking +to his intended victim, but, unless caught in an overt act, he cannot be interfered +with. People whom <span class="sc">bunco-steerers</span> lay their snares for, are generally men who stand high in their communities; consequently +it is almost impossible to get victims to become complainants, as they do not care +to figure in the police courts, and the thieves get practically a free field for their +operations. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Besant and Rice</span>, <i>Golden Butterfly</i>, p. 235. The <span class="sc">bunco-steerer</span> … will find you out the morning after you land in Chicago or St. Louis. He will accost +you—very friendly, wonderful friendly—when you come out of your hotel, by your name, +and he will remind you—which is most surprising, considerin’ you never set eyes on +his face before—how you have dined together in Cincinnati, or it may be Orleans, or +perhaps Francisco, because he finds out where you came from last; and he will shake +hands with you; and he will propose a drink; and he will pay for that drink; and presently +he will take you somewhere else, among his pals, and he will strip you so clean, that +there won’t be left the price of a four-cent paper to throw around your face and hide +your blushes. In London … they do the confidence trick. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Daily Inter-Ocean</i>, Feb. 14. Andrew Carnegie fell into the hands of a <span class="sc">bunco-steerer</span> in Pittsburg, Saturday night, but was rescued by a detective before he lost anything. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bundle</b>, <i>verb</i> (old).—To practise <span class="sc">bundling</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1781. <span class="sc">S. Peters</span>, <i>Gen. Hist. Connecticut</i>. It is thought but a piece of civility to ask [a lady] <span class="sc">to bundle</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1797. <span class="sc">Sewell.</span> <i>Queeston</i> is an odd way of wooing usual in some sea towns or Isles of Holland, after this manner. +When the wench is gone to bed, the fellow enters the room and lays himself down in +his clothes upon the blankets, next unto her, with one window of the room open, and +thus he talks with her, very innocently—as it is reported. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb383">[<a href="#pb383">383</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1809. <span class="sc">W. Irving</span>, <i>Knickerbocker History of New York</i>. Van Corlear stopped occasionally in the villages to … dance at country frolics, +and <span class="sc">bundle</span> with the Yankee lasses. +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <span class="sc">Schele De Vere</span>, <i>Americanisms</i>, p. 448. <span class="sc">To bundle</span>, a custom still prevalent in Wales, and not unfrequently practised in the West, of +men and women sleeping with all their clothes on, when there is not house-room to +provide better accommodation. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bundling</b> or <b>Bundling Up</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A custom now obsolete, but formerly in vogue where bed accommodation was scarce, +of men and women sleeping on the same bed together without having removed their clothes. +The practice is mentioned by Wright as having been customary in Wales, and it will +be remembered that Washington Irving alludes to it in his <i>Knickerbocker History of New York</i>. Whatever may have been the case in former times, it does not appear to be a habit +either in the Mother Country or the New World at the present day, even in the districts +most remote from civilization. No question of immodesty seems to have attached to +the custom; indeed, attempts were made to prove that <span class="sc">bundling</span> was very right and proper. On this point, however, opinions will vary considerably. +Also used in verbal form <span class="sc">to bundle</span>. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Caulk</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1809. <span class="sc">W. Irving</span>, <i>Knickerbocker History of New York</i>. Among other hideous customs they [the Yankees] attempted to introduce that of <span class="sc">bundling</span>, which the Dutch lasses of the Nederlandts, with their eager passion for novelty +and for the fashions, natural to their sex, seemed very well inclined to follow, but +that their mothers, being more experienced in the world and better acquainted with +men and things, discountenanced all such outlandish innovations. +</p> +<p class="cit">1814. <i>Quarterly Review</i>, X., 517. [The custom spoken of in.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1842. <span class="sc">C. Masson</span>, <i>Journal Balochistan, etc.</i>, III., 287. Many of the Afghan tribes have a custom in wooing, similar to what in +Wales is known as <span class="sc">bundling-up</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">W. H. Dixon</span>, <i>Spiritual Wives</i>, vol. II., p. 31. An old custom, which exists (I believe) in Wales as well as in +parts of Pennsylvania and New England, permits under the name of ‘<span class="sc">bundling</span>,’ certain free, but still innocent endearments to pass between lovers who are engaged. +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <span class="sc">H. R. Styles</span>, <span class="sc">Bundling</span>; <i>its Origin, Progress, and Decline in America</i>, title. [Contains also its history in England, Wales, Holland, curious songs, etc.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1878. <span class="sc">C. Wake</span>, <i>Evol. Moral.</i>, I., 401. The custom of <span class="sc">bundling</span> … among Celtic peoples. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bung</b>, <b>Bong</b>, <b>Boung</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old cant.)—1. A purse. [One of the oldest cant terms in the language, the origin +of which is entirely unknown, though, says Murray, ‘its resemblance to the O.E. <i lang="ang">pung</i>, “a purse,” is worth notice.’] Also called <span class="sc">skin</span> or <span class="sc">poge</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). A French thieves’ term is <i lang="fr">la plotte</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i> (1814), p. 65. <span class="sc">Boung</span>, a purse. <i>Ibid<span>.</span></i>, p. 86. +</p> +<p class="cit">1591. <span class="sc">Greene</span>, <i>Second Part Conny-catching</i>, in wks., vol. X., p. 96. The Nip vseth his knife, and if he see a <span class="sc">Boung</span> lie faire, strikes the stroke. +</p> +<p class="cit">1610. <span class="sc">Rowlands</span>, <i>Martin Mark-all</i>, p. 37 (H. Club’s Repr., 1874). <span class="sc">Bung</span> is now vsed for a pocket, heretofore for a purse. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1658. <span class="sc">Cleveland</span>, <i>Cleivelandi Vindiciæ</i>, p. 99 (ed. 1677). He is in the Inquisition of the Purse an Authentick Gypsie, that +nips your <span class="sc">Bung</span> with a canting Ordinance. +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>English Rogue</i>, pt. I., ch. v., p. 47. <span class="sc">Boung</span>, a Purse. +</p> +<p class="cit">1706. <span class="sc">E. Coles</span>, <i>Eng. Dict.</i> <span class="sc">Bung</span>, a purse. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—A pickpocket. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bung</span>, sense 1. <span class="sc">Bung-nipper</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) was in general usage later. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb384">[<a href="#pb384">384</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1598. <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <i>King Henry IV.</i>, ii., 4. <i>Doll.</i> Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy <span class="sc">bung</span>, away! By this wine, I’ll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an’ you play the +saucy cuttle with me. +</p> +<p class="cit">1658. <i>An Age for Apes</i>, p. 232. My <span class="sc">bung</span> observing this, takes hold of time, Just as this lord was drawing for a prime, And +smoothly rims his purse that lay beside him. +</p> +<p>3. (common.)—A brewer; landlord of a public house, etc. [An allusion to the <span class="sc">bungs</span>, or large corks used in the ‘mouths’ of beer barrels.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <i>Cornhill Magazine</i> (<i>The Inner Life of a Man-of-War</i>), Feb. From time immemorial these gentlemen [master’s assistants] have had to stand +at the grog-butt and see the grog served out—an important duty, the discharge of which +has invested them, such is the playfulness of naval humour, with the title of <span class="sc">bungs</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Graphic</i>, Feb. 23, p. 170, col. 1. That Sir Wilfrid Lawson had turned <span class="sc">bung</span>, and applied for a spirit licence. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (pugilistic).—1. Generally <span class="sc">bung up</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, to close or shut up the eyes by means of a blow that causes a swelling. Formerly +used of the mouth, ears, etc., and in literary use, but now regarded as a vulgarism. +<i>Cf.</i> <i>verb</i>, sense 2. +</p> +<p class="cit">1593. <span class="sc">G. Harvey</span>, <i>Pierces Super.</i>, in wks. (Grosart) II., 128. That will <span class="sc">bung-up</span> their mouthes with a Collyrium of all the stale iestes in a country. +</p> +<p class="cit">1599. <span class="sc">Nashe</span>, <i>Lenten Stuffe</i>, in wks. V., 247. The waies beyond sea were so <span class="sc">bungd vp</span> with your dayly oratours or <i>Beadsmen</i> and your crutchet or crout-chant friers … that a snaile coulde not wriggle in her +homes betwixt them. +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span>, <i>Clockmaker</i>, 1 S., ch. xix. ‘I <span class="sc">bunged up</span> both eyes for him.’ +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—To give; pass; hand over; drink; or to perform almost any action. ‘<span class="sc">Bung</span> over the rag,’ hand over the money. Used by Beaumont and Fletcher, and Shakspeare. +Also, to deceive one by a lie, to <span class="sc">Cram</span>, which <i>see</i>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bungay.</b> <span class="sc">Go to Bungay!</span> <i>phr.</i> (general).—A euphemistic objurgation equivalent to consignment to a region the climate +of which is tropical in character. For analogous phrases, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Go to hell</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bung-Eyed</b>, <i>comp. ppl. adj.</i> (common).—1. Drunk; fuddled; <span class="sc">Screwed</span>, which <i>see</i> for synonyms. [Derivation uncertain: possibly from the Scotch ‘bung,’ a low word +quoted by Jamieson as meaning tipsy or fuddled, with perhaps an indirect allusion +to the bunged or crooked distorted eye, the result of a fight or squabble.—<i>See</i> sense 2.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1858. <span class="sc">A. Mayhew</span>, <i>Paved with Gold</i>, bk. III., ch. iii., p. 268. One coarse-featured fellow, who was nearly <span class="sc">bung-eyed</span> over his beer (as they call being drunk). +</p> +<p>2. Cross-eyed; unable to see straight; ‘boss-eyed’ or ‘<span class="sc">squinny-eyed</span>’ (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bungfunger</b>, <i>verb</i> (American).—To startle; to confuse. Compare with <span class="sc">bumbsquabbled</span>. Also used as an adjective for ‘confounded.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1835–40. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span>, <i>The Clockmaker</i>, p. 91 (ed. 1862). ‘Well, father, I thought he’d a fainted too, he was so struck +up all of a heap; he was completely <span class="sc">bung-fungered</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bung-Juice</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—Porter, or beer. [From <span class="sc">bung</span>, a stopper for casks in which beer is kept, + <span class="sc">juice</span>. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Cow-juice</span> for milk, etc.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span> and <span class="sc">Swipes</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb385">[<a href="#pb385">385</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bung Knife</b> or <b>Boung Knife</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Considerable uncertainty exists as to the nature or use of this implement. +It has however been conjectured that as <span class="sc">boung</span> was an old cant word for a purse, that <span class="sc">boung knife</span> may therefore have been a knife kept in the purse or girdle, but concerning this +nothing definite can be stated. +</p> +<p class="cit">1592. <span class="sc">Greene</span>, <i>Quip for Upstart Courtier</i> (<i>Hart. Misc.</i>, V., 407). One of them had on … a skeine like a bruer’s <span class="sc">boung-knife</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bung Nipper</b> or <b>Boung Nipper</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A cut-purse; a sharper. [From <span class="sc">bung</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), an old canting term for a purse, + <span class="sc">nipper</span>, a thief, <i>i.e.</i>, one who nips or steals.] In French, to nip a bung is <i lang="fr">couper une queue de rat</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, literally to cut off a rat’s tail; but for synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Area-sneak</span> and <span class="sc">Thieves</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bung Upwards</b>, <i>adv. phr.</i> (old).—Said of a person lying on his face. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bunk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Hasty departure. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bunk</span>, <i>verb</i>. [Of unknown derivation.] +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1870. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘Peck’s Bad Boy.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Of course you’re heard of Peck’s bad boy, that dreadful Yankee lad, </p> +<p class="line">Who’s bothered his poor parents so they’ve both gone raving mad, </p> +</div> +<hr class="tb"> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">He put a pound of old Scotch snuff into poor Buddha’s trunk, </p> +<p class="line">The keeper tried to catch him, but the bad boy did a <span class="sc">bunk</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first"><i>Verb</i> (common).—1. To be off; to decamp. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Amputate</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1872. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘Oh, we are a getting on.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">A stocking used a ‘bank’ to be, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">In the good old days of old, </p> +<p class="line">They didn’t run such risks as we </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Do now of getting sold. </p> +<p class="line">No sooner does a bank go queer, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">You hear the same old strain, </p> +<p class="line">There’s another bald-headed Manageer, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Has <span class="sc">bunked</span> across to Spain. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1885. <i>Referee</i>, Feb. 16, p. 7, col. 3. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">It was just such a parcel, bless him! he’d clasped to his noble breast, </p> +<p class="line">And <span class="sc">bunked</span> with out o’ the building. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1887. <i>Fun</i>, 9 Nov., p. 201. ‘What is a vanishing point?’ said the schoolmaster to little Billy. +‘The corner you <span class="sc">bunks</span> round when the “slops” after yer,’ warbled the golden-haired child. +</p> +<p>2. (Wellington College.)—To expel [from the school]. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bunker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Beer. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Drinks</span> and <span class="sc">Swipes</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bunkum</b>, <b>Buncombe</b>, <b>Buncome</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American).—Talking merely for talking’s sake; claptrap of all kinds; gas; tall talk. +The employment of the word in its original sense of insincere political speaking or +claptrap is ascribed to a member of Congress, Felix Walker, from Buncombe County, +North Carolina, who explained that he was merely talking for <span class="sc">buncombe</span>, when his fellow members could not understand why he was making a speech. Judge Haliburton +(Sam Slick) in explaining this word says that ‘all over America, every place likes +to hear of its member of Congress, and see their speeches; and, if they don’t, they +send a piece to the paper, inquirin’ if their members died a natural death, or was +skivered with a bowie-knife, for they hante seen his speeches lately, and his friends +are anxious to know his fate. Our free and enlightened citizens don’t approbate silent +members; it don’t seem to them <span class="pageNum" id="pb386">[<a href="#pb386">386</a>]</span>as if Squashville, or Punkinsville, or Lumbertown was right represented, unless Squashville, +or Punkinsville, or Lumbertown makes itself heard and known, ay, and feared too. So +every feller, in bounden duty, talks, and talks big too, and the smaller the State, +the louder, bigger, and fiercer its members talk. Well, when a critter talks for talk’s +sake, jist to have a speech in the paper to send to home, and not for any other airthly +puppus but electioneering, our folks call it <span class="sc">bunkum</span>.’ +</p> +<p>The term is now universal on both sides of the water, and, indeed, wherever English +is spoken. So much is this the case that the expression may now fairly claim a permanent +place in the language. The primary meaning has been somewhat enlarged. ‘That’s all +<span class="sc">buncombe</span>’ is equivalent to ‘That’s all nonsense’ or ‘an absurdity.’ +</p> +<p>Also used attributively; for example, a <span class="sc">bunkum</span> proclamation, <span class="sc">bunkum</span> logic, <span class="sc">bunkum</span> politicians, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1841. <i>Richmond Compiler</i>, Aug. 17. He was not speaking to the House but to <span class="sc">bunkum</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">Sala</span>, <i>Tw. Round the Clock</i>, 2 a.m., par. 9. These tales, full of sound and fury, told by honourable idiots full +of unutterable ‘<span class="sc">bunkum</span>’ (an Americanism I feel constrained to use, as signifying nothingness, ineftably +inept and irremediably fire-perforated windbaggery, and sublimated cucumber sunbeams +hopelessly eclipsed into Dis)— +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <i>Blackwood’s Mag.</i>, April. ‘This parable, explaining the origin of <span class="sc">buncombe</span>, would form a very useful text to set up, handsomely illustrated, over the Speaker’s +chair in Parliament.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <i>New York Tribune</i>, Feb. 11. Despatch from Kansas. General Sibley was within thirty miles of Fort Craig, +with twenty-five hundred Texans, with artillery, and had issued a <span class="sc">bunkum</span> proclamation. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Echo</i>, May 12, p. 4, col. 2. It will be seen that the wonderful tales about the favourites +were like the reports about Richmond’s lameness, all <span class="sc">bunkum</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Daily Inter-Ocean</i>, March 3. This thing of trying to rule a husband is all <span class="sc">buncombe</span>; it can’t be done. You can coax most men, bribe some, and govern a very few, but +that vulgar rubbing of the fur the right way wins every time. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>, 18 Oct., p. 6, col. 2. His explanation was contained in the three words, ‘Bosh, +rubbish, and <span class="sc">bunkum</span>.’ Was it not time, asked the speaker, that the ‘great unwashed’ should declare that +the ‘great unpaid’ were no longer at liberty to oppress them? +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bunky</b>, <i>adj.</i> (Christ’s Hospital).—Awkward; ill-finished. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bunnick</b>, <i>verb</i> (common).—To settle; to dispose of. +</p> +<p class="cit">1886. <i>Punch</i>, 17 July, p. 25. ’Owsom-ever we’ve <span class="sc">bunnicked</span> up Gladsting, a barney all patriots enjoy. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bunny Grub</b>, <i>subs.</i> (Cheltenham College).—Green vegetables, such as cabbage, lettuce, and the like. [Obviously +from <span class="sc">bunny</span>, a pet name for a rabbit, + <span class="sc">grub</span>, a slang term for provender, <i>i.e.</i>, food akin to that upon which rabbits are fed.] At the Royal Military Academy and +other schools an equivalent is <span class="sc">grass</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bunse.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bunce</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bun-Struggle</b> or <b>Bun-Worry</b>, <i>subs.</i> (military).—A tea meeting given to soldiers. For synonymous terms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Tea fight</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bunt.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bunce</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb387">[<a href="#pb387">387</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Bunter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (harlotry).—1. A prostitute; one who adds theft to her other vocation; also a term +of contempt for any low woman. <i>See</i>, however, quot. from Dyche, 1748, and Mayhew, 1851. For analogous terms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack-hack</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1705–7. <span class="sc">E. Ward</span>, <i>Hudibras Rediv.</i>, II., ii. (1715), 25. Punks, Strolers, Market Dames, and <span class="sc">Bunters</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">Smollett</span>, <i>Rod. Random</i>, ch. xlvii. And asked with some heat, if he thought I had spent the evening in a +cellar with chairmen and <span class="sc">bunters</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">Bunter</span> (s.), one who goes about the streets to gather rags, bones, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1759. <span class="sc">Walpole</span>, <i>Parish Register</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Here Fielding met his <span class="sc">bunter</span> Muse, </p> +<p class="line">And, as they quaff’d the fiery juice, </p> +<p class="line">Droll Nature stamp’d each lucky hit, </p> +<p class="line">With unimaginable wit. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1763. <i>British Magazine</i>, vol. IV., p. 542. I heard a <span class="sc">bunter</span> at the Horse-Guards … swear she would not venture into the Park. +</p> +<p class="cit">1765. <span class="sc">Goldsmith</span>, <i>Essays</i>, x. The <span class="sc">bunters</span> who swagger in the streets of London. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. II., p. 158. They were known by the name of <span class="sc">bunters</span>, which signifies properly gatherers of rags. +</p> +<p>2. Explained by quotation. [<span class="sc">Bunter</span> here may be a confused variant of <span class="sc">bunker</span>, one who runs away or ‘slopes.’] +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, IV., 223. There is a class of women technically known as <span class="sc">bunters</span>, who take lodgings, and after staying some time run away without paying their rent. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Burdon’s Hotel</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—Whitecross Street Prison, of which the Governor was a Mr. Burdon. Almost +every prison has a nickname of this kind, either from the name of the Governor, or +from some local circumstance. The Queen’s Bench has an immense number of names—<span class="sc">spike</span>, <span class="sc">park</span>, etc.; and every Chief-Justice stands godfather to it. For full list of such names, +<i>see</i> <span class="sc">Cage</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Dutton Cook</span>, <i>Paul Foster’s Daughter</i>, ch. ii. ‘David, be respectable, whatever you are, be respectable, and <span class="sc">Burdon’s hotel</span> is not for you to sojourn at.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Burick</b> or <b>Burerk</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Latterly applied to any woman or ‘lady,’ especially one showily dressed, but +formerly a thief’s term for a prostitute. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Memoirs</i>. <span class="sc">Burick</span> is a prostitute, or common woman. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, I., p. 262. If they can meet with the <span class="sc">burerk</span> (mistress) or the young ladies, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <i>Answers</i>, July 20, p. 121, col. 2. Let him ask the loafer what his ‘Monekear’ (name) is; whether +he can drink a ‘shant of patter’ (pint of beer); whether he finds the ‘bone’ or ‘gammy’—that +is good or bad as regards begging; and which sex gives him most—the ‘<span class="sc">burerks</span>’ (ladies), or the ‘Toffs’ (gentlemen). +</p> +<p>Amongst French equivalents for a well-dressed woman may be mentioned <i lang="fr">une panuche</i> (this name is also applied to a prostitute living in a brothel); <i lang="fr">une dubuge</i>; <i lang="fr">une faraude</i> (the masculine form, <i lang="fr">un faraud</i>, signifies a vulgar fellow proud of smart clothes—a snob, a swell). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Burke</b>, <i>verb</i> (military).—To dye the moustache and whiskers. [<span class="sc">Burke</span> properly is to smother or hush up, and the allusion in the military term is to the +practice which once prevailed in smart regiments of dyeing or smothering the natural +colour of the hair for the sake of uniformity. The regulations at one time as regards +the style of wearing the hair were very stringent and precise.] +<span class="pageNum" id="pb388">[<a href="#pb388">388</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Burn</b>, <i>verb</i> (thieves).—To cheat; to swindle. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Burnanded</b>, <i>verb</i> (? nonce word).—To pilfer plots (of plays, novels, etc.). [Probably only a nonce +word; a formation on the same lines as ‘Burke,’ ‘Boycott,’ etc., from the name of +Mr. F. Burnand, the editor of <i>Punch</i>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <i>Echo</i>, Feb. 11, p. 3. The American papers continue to attack the play [<i>The Colonel</i>] vigorously. One of the journals there has invented a new verb to signify the pilfering +of plots. ‘<span class="sc">Burnanded</span>’ is the term. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Burn Crust</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A jocular name for a baker. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Master of the mint</span> for a gardener; <span class="sc">Bung</span> for a brewer; <span class="sc">Ball of wax</span> for a shoemaker; <span class="sc">Quill-driver</span> for a clerk; <span class="sc">Snip</span> for a tailor, etc. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Burned.</b> <span class="sc">To be burned</span>, <i>verb</i> (old).—To be infected with a venereal disease.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Burning</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. He was sent out a sacrifice, and came home a <span class="sc">burnt</span> offering; saying of seamen who have caught the venereal disease abroad. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Burner</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A card-sharper. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—The same as <span class="sc">burning</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Burning</b>, <i>verb, subs.</i> (old).—A venereal disease. Shakspeare alludes to it in <i>King Lear</i>, ‘No heretics <span class="sc">burn’d</span>, but wenches’ suitors.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Burning Shame.</b>—An obscene practice.—<i>See</i> Grose. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Burning the Parade</b>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—Thus explained by Grose: ‘Warning more men for a guard than were necessary, +and excusing the supernumeraries for money. This was a practice formerly winked at +in most garrisons, and was a very considerable perquisite to the adjutants and sergeant +majors; the pretence for it was to purchase coal and candle for the guard, whence +it was called <span class="sc">burning the parade</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Burn My Breeches!</b> <i>phr.</i> (old).—A mild kind of oath. A few latter day ‘fancies’ of the same kind will be found +under <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial</i>, p. 46. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line xd33e24230">… (Bill Gibbons ne’er </p> +<p class="line">In all his days was known to swear, </p> +<p class="line">Except light oaths, to grace his speeches, </p> +<p class="line">Like ‘<i>dash my wig</i>,’ or ‘<span class="sc">burn my breeches</span>.’) </p> +</div> +<p class="first main"><b>Burn the Ken</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (old).—To live at an inn or tavern without paying for one’s quarters. [From <span class="sc">burn</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), to cheat, + <span class="sc">ken</span>, an inn, tavern, or place.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Burr</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A hanger on; a dependent; one who sponges. [An allusion to field burrs or +prickly seed pods, which when once attached to the clothing are difficult to remove.] +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (Marlborough College).—To fight; scrimmage or ‘rag.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Burst</b>, <i>subs.</i> (general).—1. A spree; drunken frolic; big feed; <span class="sc">blow out</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). Usually <span class="sc">on the burst</span>, an extension of the figurative usage of the word signifying a violent outburst.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bust</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb389">[<a href="#pb389">389</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Blackwood’s Mag.</i>, June, p. 775. He became a madman when drunk. Once ‘<span class="sc">on the burst</span>,’ as he phrased it, money, horses, cows, furniture, even his wife’s wearing apparel, +went to feed the insatiable and cruel demon who possessed him. +</p> +<p class="cit">1881. <span class="sc">Praed</span>, <i>Policy and Passion</i>, vol. I., p. 228. When his men go <span class="sc">on the burst</span>, what can he do but make his daughters help? +</p> +<p>2. (sporting.)—A sudden and vigorous access or display of energy; a lively pace or +spurt. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bursted</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (general).—Hard up. [From <span class="sc">burst</span>, failure or collapse, + <span class="sc">ed</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1873. <i>Chicago Daily Tribune</i>, June 30. At the far end [of the room] four lank and <span class="sc">bursted</span> frontiersmen sang with a doleful want of melody or attention the celebrated ballad +by John Hay on the fate of Little Breeches. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Burster</b>, <i>subs.</i> (racing).—1. A heavy fall; a ‘cropper.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1863. <i>Evening Standard</i>, 24 April. Benedict came down a <span class="sc">burster</span>, and was out of the race. +</p> +<p>2. <i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Buster</span>, sense 1. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bury.</b> <span class="sc">Go bury yourself!</span> <i>phr.</i> (American).—A Californianism which has more of the <i>fortiter</i> than the <i>suaviter</i> in its composition. Equivalent to ‘Go! hide your diminished head.’ <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Carry me out and bury me decently</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To bury</span> or <span class="sc">dig up the hatchet</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (American).—Amongst Indian tribes certain symbolic ceremonies are connected with +the war-hatchet or tomahawk, which are equivalent to a declaration of war, or a compact +of peace.—<span class="sc">To bury the hatchet</span> is the emblem of the putting away of strife and enmity; on the other hand, the red +skin, before he commences hostilities, digs up afresh the fateful symbol. This picturesque +imagery has passed into the colloquial inheritance of the American people, and the +expressions of <span class="sc">burying</span> or <span class="sc">digging up the hatchet</span> are frequently applied to the affairs of everyday life. This symbolism though new +in form is old in idea. Shakspeare in <i>The Tempest</i>, v., 1, 55, says, ‘I’le breake my staffe, bury it certaine fadomes in the earth.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1855–59. <span class="sc">Washington Irving</span>, Life of Washington, I., p. 361. ‘They smoked the pipe of peace together, and the +colonel claimed the credit of having, by his diplomacy, persuaded the sachem to <span class="sc">bury the hatchet</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. Longfellow, <i>Hiawatha</i>, 13. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">Buried</span> was the bloody <span class="sc">hatchet</span>; </p> +<p class="line">Buried was the dreadful war-club; </p> +<p class="line">Buried were all warlike weapons, </p> +<p class="line">And the war-cry was forgotten; </p> +<p class="line">Then was peace among the nations. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1873. <i>Carleton Ballads.</i> +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">I don’t know what you’ll think, sir—I didn’t come to inquire— </p> +<p class="line">But I picked up that agreement and stuffed it in the fire; </p> +<p class="line">And I told her we’d <span class="sc">bury the hatchet</span> alongside of the cow; </p> +<p class="line">And we struck an agreement never to have another row. </p> +</div> +<p class="first"><span class="sc">To bury a moll</span>, <i>phr.</i> (general).—To desert or forsake a wife or mistress. [<span class="sc">Moll</span> = woman, wife, or prostitute.] +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Envoyer une ouistiti</i> (<i lang="fr">ouistiti</i> signifies properly a striated monkey); <i lang="fr">lâcher une femme</i> (literally to cast off a woman); <i lang="fr">balancer une largue</i>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To bury a Quaker</span>, <i>phr.</i> (Irish slang).—To evacuate; to ease oneself. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms.</span> To go to the crapping castle, casa, or ken (castle, casa, and ken are old canting +terms for a place or <span class="pageNum" id="pb390">[<a href="#pb390">390</a>]</span>house); to the West Central (a punning allusion to the initials W.C. for water closet); +to Mrs. Jones; to the chapel-of-ease; to Sir Harry; to the bog-house, rear, dunnock, +coffee-shop; to see one’s aunt; to crap; to go and sing ‘sweet violets’; to go where +the queen always goes on foot. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Mousser</i> (popular: literally to foam or effervesce); <i lang="fr">enterrer son colonel</i> (<i>Cf.</i>, to bury a Quaker); <i lang="fr">aller faire une ballade à la lune</i> (<i>i.e.</i>, ‘to go and sing to the moon’; also <i lang="fr">ballade</i> = stroll, walk, or lounge; likewise in French slang <i lang="fr">lune</i> = posteriors); <i lang="fr">mouler un sénateur</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">mouler une Venus</i> (artists’); <i lang="fr">gazonner</i> (literally to ‘cover with turf’); <i lang="fr">aller au numero cent</i> (a play upon the word <i>sent</i>); <i lang="fr">déponer</i> (Michel thinks that though at first sight this word would seem to be directly derived +from the Latin <i lang="la">deponere</i>, yet it really either comes from the old French <i lang="fr">ponant</i>, signifying posteriors, or from the verb <i lang="fr">poner</i>, used in the thirteenth century in the sense of <i lang="fr">pondre</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, to lay eggs); <i lang="fr">débourrer sa pipe</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">défalquer</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">tarter</i> or <i lang="fr">tartir</i> (popular and thieves’: in Latin <i lang="la">alvum deponere</i>. <i>Cf.</i>, Italian Fourbesque <i lang="it">tartire</i>); <i lang="fr">faire une moulure</i> (<i lang="fr">moulure</i> in architecture = moulding); <i lang="fr">aller quelque part</i> (lit. to go somewhere); <i lang="fr">aller à ses affaires</i> (lit. ‘to go to one’s business’); <i lang="fr">aller où le roi va à pied</i> (<i>i.e.</i>, to go where the king goes on foot. <i>Cf.</i>, to go where the queen always goes on foot); <i lang="fr">filer</i> (properly to spin); <i lang="fr">aller chez Jules</i> (to go to Julius. <i>Cf.</i>, to go and see one’s aunt); <i lang="fr">ierchem</i> (low: <i lang="fr">chier</i>, a disguised obscenity, + <i lang="fr">em</i>); <i lang="fr">flasquer</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">touser</i> (this word comes from <i lang="fr">tourtouse</i> and signifies properly <i lang="fr">faire de la corde</i>); <i lang="fr">faire corps neuf</i> (properly to take a new lease of one’s life); <i lang="fr">déposer une médaille de papier volant</i>, or <i lang="fr">des Pays-Bas</i> (obsolete); <i lang="fr">faire des cordes</i> (<i lang="fr">des cordes</i> = strings); <i lang="fr">mettre une lettre à la poste</i> (lit. to go and post a letter); <i lang="fr">faire le grand</i> (<i lang="fr">grand</i> = an opprobrious epithet); <i lang="fr">faire une commission</i> (to run an errand); <i lang="fr">fogner</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">flaquer</i> (popular: literally ‘to dash’ [water or any other liquid]); <i lang="fr">écrire à un Juif</i> (literally to write to a Jew); <i lang="fr">déposer une pêche</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">poser une pépin</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">poser</i> = to place or cast down; <i lang="fr">pépin</i>, in botany a kernel or pip); <i lang="fr">poser un factionnaire</i> (popular: <i lang="fr">factionnaire</i> is properly a sentinel or sentry); <i lang="fr">poser une sentinelle</i> (popular: with same meaning as foregoing); <i lang="fr">envoyer une depèche à Bismarck</i> (popular: this may be a contemptuous usage of the German Chancellor’s name, although +in French slang <i lang="fr">couleur Bismarck</i> = brown colour); <i lang="fr">aller où le roi n’envoie personne</i> (lit. to go where the king sends no one); <i lang="fr">flaquader</i> (<i lang="fr">flaque</i> = excrement); <i lang="fr">fuser</i> (properly to dissolve); <i lang="fr">gâcher du gros</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">galipoter</i> (another slang meaning of this word is ‘to smear’); <i lang="fr">pousser son rond</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">faire ronfler la chaire percée—Thomas—le bourrelet—la chaise percée</i> (<i lang="fr">faire ronfler</i> = to cause to or make snore, <i lang="fr">chaire</i> = Bishop’s throne, <i lang="fr">chaire percée</i> = close-stool, and <i lang="fr">bourrelet</i> = padded cushion with hole in centre, <i lang="fr">Thomas</i> = bedroom chamber); <i lang="fr">aller voir Bernard</i> (<i>Cf.</i>, <i lang="fr">aller chez Jules</i>); <i lang="fr">aller au <span class="pageNum" id="pb391">[<a href="#pb391">391</a>]</span>buen-retiro</i> (<i lang="fr">buen retiro</i> properly = a private place of retirement, but in this sense is an ironical allusion +to a W.C.); <i lang="fr">faire un pruneau</i> or <i lang="fr">poser un pruneau</i> (Michel thinks this expression is derived from <i lang="fr">clos Bruneau</i>, a facetious name given to the posteriors about the sixteenth century); <i lang="fr">filer le cable de proue</i> (Michel gives this as of nautical origin—seamen’s latrines being situated in the +fo’cas’le). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Italian Fourbesque.</span> <i lang="it">Tartire</i> (properly to lighten or ease one’s conscience by confessing to a Priest). +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To bury a wife</span>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (old).—To feast and make merry, an expression used in connection with the jollifications +frequently indulged in by apprentices on the completion of their term of indenture, +when they became ‘full blown’ craftsmen. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bus</b> or <b>Buss</b>, <i>subs.</i> (theatrical).—1. A variant of <span class="sc">business</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), of which it is an abbreviation. Pronounced <i>biz</i>. +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—A contraction of ‘omnibus.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1832. <span class="sc">Ht. Martineau</span>, <i>Weal and Woe</i>, i., 14. If the station offers me a place in a <span class="sc">buss</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Bleak House</i>, p. 93. He proposed that they should go, per <span class="sc">buss</span>, a little way into the country. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Adventures of Philip</i>, II., p. 316. We were mortified to see that of the five persons conveyed by the <span class="sc">’bus</span>, one was a tradesman, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <span class="sc">Black</span>, <i>In Silk Attire</i>, II., p. 205. Annie Brunel got out of the Hampstead <span class="sc">’bus</span>, and found herself in the muddy highway. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (American).—To punch [one’s head]. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bush</b> or <b>Be Bushed</b>, <i>verb</i> (Australian).—Primarily to camp out in the bush; or to get lost in the bush. Hence +a slang usage in which the expression is applied to a person in any mental or physical +difficulty or muddle. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>All the Year Round</i>, July 30, p. 68. An Australian says that he is <span class="sc">bushed</span> just as an Englishman, equally characteristically, declares that he is fogged. +</p> +<p class="cit">1889. <span class="sc">B. L. Farjeon</span>, <i>In Australian Wilds</i>. ‘We shall have <span class="sc">to bush</span> it, mate,’ I said. ‘That’s so,’ said Lilly Trot, unconcernedly; but looking about +him sharply, despite his apparent carelessness, for a suitable spot to camp on. <i>Ibid.</i> We were on horseback, with blankets before us on our saddles, to provide for our +getting <span class="sc">bushed</span>. We were prepared for rough times. I carried my revolver, and Lilly Trot had a villainous-looking +black life-preserver up his sleeve, ready at a moment’s notice for any emergency. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bushed</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (old).—Hard up; without money; destitute. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dictionary</i>. <span class="sc">Bush’d</span>, poor; without money. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bushed On</b>, <i>verbal phr.</i> (common).—Pleased; delighted. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bushel Bubby</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A full and large breasted woman. [From <span class="sc">bushel</span>, a (large) measure, + <span class="sc">bubby</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), a breast.] <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bubber</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bushwhacker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American political).—In politics, as in war, simply a ‘free-lance.’ During the Rebellion +deserters from the ranks of both armies infested the country, bands of these marauders +making raids upon defenceless houses and even going the length of sacking whole towns. +Originally the term was harmless enough in meaning. At a time when <span class="pageNum" id="pb392">[<a href="#pb392">392</a>]</span>water-communication was the chief means of locomotion, and the rivers, streams, and +creeks of densely wooded regions were alive with the advance guards of civilization, +<span class="sc">bushwhacking</span> was the name given to the means by which lumbermen propelled their craft up and down +stream. This was accomplished by pulling the bushes growing by the water side; or, +on land, by the cutting away of a thicket in order to obtain a passage. The man who +did this, and the instrument—a kind of scythe or cutlass with which, in the latter +case, he thus forced his way—were alike called <span class="sc">bushwhackers</span>. The word has gone through yet another transition. Since the war it has also come +to mean a ‘country bumpkin,’ a ‘clod-pole,’ or any other person of a ‘verdant’ character. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bushy Park</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming slang).—A lark. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To be in Bushy Park</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To be poor. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Business</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. Sexual intercourse. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Greens</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1630. <span class="sc">Taylor</span>, <span class="sc">Workes</span>. And Lais of Corinth, ask’d Demosthenes One hundred crownes for one night’s <span class="sc">businesse</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1654. <i>Wits Recreations.</i> +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">What Crispulus is that in a new gown, </p> +<p class="line">All trim’d with loops and buttons up and down, </p> +<p class="line">That learns there on his arm in private chat </p> +<p class="line">With thy young wife, what Crispulus is that? </p> +<p class="line">He’s proctor of a court, thou say’st and does </p> +<p class="line">Some <span class="sc">business</span> of my wives: thou brainless goose, </p> +<p class="line">He does no <span class="sc">business</span> of thy wives, not he, </p> +<p class="line">He does thy <span class="sc">business</span> (Coracine) for thee. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">2. (theatrical.)—Dramatic action; bye-play. +</p> +<p class="cit">1753. <i>The World</i>, No. 26. We are too much enamoured with what is called intrigue, <span class="sc">business</span>, and bustle, in our plays. +</p> +<p class="cit">1820. Scott, <i>The Abbot</i>, ch. xxvii. (III., p. 6). The … went, came, and returned, mingling in every scene +of the piece, and interrupting the <span class="sc">business</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <i>Cornhill Magazine</i>, Dec., p. 749. So well do performers understand this principle, that they give the +literary composition the utmost contemptuous title of ‘words,’ while they dignify +the movements of the characters with the name of <span class="sc">business</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 282. Tom observed, I never saw such <span class="sc">business</span> before; how do you do it with that board thing, for I can’t manage it? I have knocked +and bruised some of my people about so that they swear they would sooner leave than +have such another day. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>Punch</i>, Sept. 18, 130. ‘Quite in his Line.’ <i>Stout Major</i> (<i>to Professional Actor, who has been asked down to coach the Garrison Amateurs</i>): ‘Aw—we played <i>The Bells</i> at our last Theatricals, of which I’ve the Management. I—aw—played Irving’s part +myself. Aw—immense Success!’ <i>Professional</i> (<i>drily</i>): ‘Of course you’ve seen him in it?’ <i>Major</i>: ‘Ya-as—but—aw—I didn’t copy him in the least—aw—my own ‘<span class="sc">Business</span>.’ Aw—Entirely different reading. In fact, every one said it wasn’t a bit like him!<span>’</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">H. Irving</span>, in <i>Good Words</i>, Jan., p. 34. Then consider what scope the ‘<span class="sc">business</span>’ of the scene gives to the actor’s purpose. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To do one’s business for one</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To kill; to cause one’s death. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Jas. Greenwood</span>, <i>Grandmother Cooper</i>, in <i>Odd People in Odd Places</i>, p. 4. ‘They said it was his hurts as killed him,’ said the old lady, ‘but it was +no use ’em telling me that. It was the bricks and mortar that <span class="sc">did his business</span>, poor chap.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb393">[<a href="#pb393">393</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Business End</b> [of a thing], <i>subs.</i> (American).—The practical part. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Busk It</b>, <i>verb</i> (vagrants’).—To sell obscene songs and books at the bars and in the tap-rooms of +public houses. Sometimes it implies selling other articles. Also to ‘work’ public +houses and certain spots as an itinerant musician or vocalist. So also <span class="sc">busking</span>, <i>verb subs.</i> and <i>ppl. adj.</i> and <span class="sc">busker</span>, a man who thus sings and performs in public houses: an itinerant. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>London Labour and London Poor</i>, III., p. 234. From a furniture-carter of this description I received some most shocking +details of having to <span class="sc">busk it</span>, as this taking about goods for sale is called by those in the trade. <i>Ibid</i>, I., p. 229. They obtained a livelihood by <span class="sc">busking</span>, as it is termed, or in other words, by offering their goods for sale only at the +bars or in the tap-rooms and parlours of taverns. <i>Ibid</i>, III., p. 216. <span class="sc">Busking</span> is going into public houses and playing and singing and dancing. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 222. I now thought I’d try what is termed <span class="sc">busking</span>, that is going into public houses and cutting likenesses of the company. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. Advt. in <i>Echo</i>, May 10, p. 4, col. 6. <span class="sc">Busking.</span>—A player on the harp and violin wants a mate. +</p> +<p class="cit">1887. <i>Referee</i>, August 21, p. 3, col. 2. Mac himself … will appear in the Racecourse scene as a +<span class="sc">busker</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Busker.</b>—<i>See</i> under <span class="sc">Busk</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Busking.</b>—<i>See</i> under <span class="sc">Busk</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Busnapper.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Buz-napper</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Busnapper’s Kinchin.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Buz-napper’s Kinchin</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buss.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bus</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buss Beggar</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—An old prostitute of the lowest type; a beggar’s trull. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bust</b>, <i>subs.</i> (vulgar).—A corrupted form of <span class="sc">burst</span>. So also <span class="sc">busting</span> (<i>adj.</i>); <span class="sc">busted</span> (<i>ppl. adj.</i>), etc., etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1837. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Oliver Twist</i>, p. 219. A kind of <span class="sc">busting</span> noise. +</p> +<p>2. (thieves’.)—A burglary. +</p> +<p class="cit">18(?79). <span class="sc">Horsley</span>, <i>Jottings from Jail</i>. ‘Fatty Bill, from City Road, rem. for a <span class="sc">bust</span> ex. two years,’ means that William … has been compelled to leave his congenial haunts +in the City Road, as he is remanded for a burglary, and anticipates two years’ hard +labour. +</p> +<p>3. (general.)—A frolic; a spree; a drunken debauch. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">To go on the bust</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Bartlett</span> (quoted in), <i>A Californian Song</i>. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">And when we get our pockets full </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">Of this bright, shinin’ dust, </p> +<p class="line">We’ll travel straight for home again, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">And spend it on a <span class="sc">bust</span>. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">4. (American.)—A failure; a fizzle. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (vulgar).—1. To burst; explode. +</p> +<p class="cit">1838. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Nicholas Nickleby</i>, II., p. 366. His genius would have <span class="sc">busted</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1843. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Martin Chuzzlewit</i>, I., p. 286. Keep cool, Jefferson … don’t <span class="sc">bust</span>! <i>Ibid</i>, II., p. 124. If the biler of this vessel was Toe <span class="sc">bust</span><span id="xd33e70410">,</span> Sir<span id="xd33e70413">,</span> … and Toe <span class="sc">bust</span> now, it would be a festival day in the calendar of despotism. +</p> +<p>2. (thieves’.)—To commit a burglary. +</p> +<p>3. (thieves’.)—To inform against an accomplice. A slang variant of ‘split’ (turn king’s +evidence, impeach). The person who does this <span class="sc">splits</span> or <span class="sc">bursts</span> the whole concern. +</p> +<p>4. (American.)—To fail in business or transactions of any kind. +</p> +<p>5. (general.)—To put out of breath; to ‘wind.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb394">[<a href="#pb394">394</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1880. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘Taking out the Baby.’ Spoken—And they had all been taking out the baby, and all +had had such a doing—that boy o’ mine nearly <span class="sc">busted</span> me—and of course they all think they deserve a glass of beer. +</p> +<p>6. (American.)—To indulge in a drunken frolic; to go on the spree. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">To go on the bust</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1869. <i>New Orleans Picayune</i>, Feb. 14. ‘Because I was a good-natured fellow, I had to go with them, rollicking, +teaparting, excursioning, and <span class="sc">busting</span> generally.’ +</p> +<p>7. (American.)—To destroy; to commit suicide; to ‘set aside’; to expose. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <span class="sc">Bret Harte</span>, <i>Chiquita</i>, p. 22. Did you know Briggs of Tuolumne? <span class="sc">Busted</span> hisself in White Pine, and blew out is brains. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>North of England Advertiser</i>, Sept. 1. Then he got the Moabite pottery which Mr. Clement Ganneau <span class="sc">busted</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Bust me!</span> <i>phr.</i> (common).—A mild oath—<span class="sc">blow me!</span> <span class="sc">jigger me!</span> (<i>q.v.</i>)—<i>See</i> also <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Tale of Two Cities</i>, bk. I., ch. iii. ‘<span class="sc">Bust me</span> if I don’t think he’d been a drinking!’ +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To go on the bust</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To go on a frolic or spree. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Paint the town red</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buster</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. A small new loaf; also a coarse cake or bun of large size that fills +or blows out the stomach of the eater. [From <span class="sc">bust</span>, a vulgar form of ‘burst,’ + <span class="sc">er</span>.] <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Starver</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act ii., Sc. 3. <i>Bob</i>: Now, landlord, ‘arter that ere drap of max, suppose we haves a <i>drain o’ heavy wet</i>, just by way of cooling our <i>chaffers</i>—mine’s as <i>dry as a chip</i>—and, I say, do you hear, let’s have a twopenny <span class="sc">burster</span>, half a quartern of <span class="sc">beesvax</span>, a ha’p’orth o’ ingens, and a dollop o’ salt along vith it, vill you? <i>Mace</i>: Bellay! a <span class="sc">burster</span> and beesvax—and salt here. (<i>Calling as he fetches the porter from the side wing</i>, <span class="sc">l.</span>) Now, then, here you are, Master Grimmuzzle. +</p> +<p class="cit">1841. <i>Comic Almanacks</i>, 1835–43 (Hotten), p. 295. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line"><span id="xd33e70569">‘</span>Cut us a slap-up slice of Cheshire cheese, </p> +<p class="line">And tip’s a twopenny <span class="sc">burster</span> if you please.’ </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1849. <i>Bell’s Life.</i> [From Baumann.] A <span class="sc">burster</span> with a slice of beeswax. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 192. Mo and his man were having a great breakfast one morning at Newcastle, off +a twopenny <span class="sc">buster</span> and a small bit of butter, with some wishy-washy coffee.… +</p> +<p class="cit"><i>c.</i> 1882. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘I can’t get at it.<span>’</span> +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">I can’t get at it, I can’t get at it, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">I like the faggots tho’ they smell, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">But now the penny’s down the well, </p> +<p class="line">I can’t get at it, I can’t get at it, </p> +<p class="line">I thought I’d have a ‘<span class="sc">buster</span>’ but it’s all no go! </p> +</div> +<p class="first">2. (thieves’.)—A burglar. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Area-sneak</span>. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bust</span>, <i>subs.</i>, sense 2, and <i>verb</i>, sense 2. +</p> +<p class="cit">1879. <span class="sc">J. W. Horsley</span>, ‘Autobiography of a Thief,’ in <i>Macm. Mag.</i>, XL., 582. <span class="sc">Busters</span> and screwsmen (burglars). +</p> +<p>3. (common.)—Anything of superior size; that has unusual capacity; that causes admiration; +a spurt. Hence to ‘<span class="sc">come an awful buster</span>,’ ‘to fall heavily,’ ‘to come a cropper’; ‘<span class="sc">in for a buster</span>,’ prepared, ready or determined for a spree. +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">H. B. Stowe</span>, <i>Uncle Tom’s Cabin</i>, ch. x. ‘Lor, Pete,’ said Mose, triumphantly, ‘han’t we got a <span class="sc">buster</span> of a breakfast!’ at the same time catching at a fragment of the chicken. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Great Expectations</i>, ch. vii., p. 28. ‘At such time as when your sister is on the Ram-page, Pip,’ Joe +sank his voice to a whisper, and glanced at the door, ‘candour compels fur to admit +that she is a <span class="sc">Buster</span>.’ +<span class="pageNum" id="pb395">[<a href="#pb395">395</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1870. <i>Popular Song on Franco-German War.</i> +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">… Thank God, my dear Augusta, </p> +<p class="line">We’ve had another awful <span class="sc">buster</span>, </p> +<p class="line">Ten thousand Frenchmen sent below, </p> +<p class="line">Praise God from whom all blessings flow! </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit"><i>c.</i> 1880. <i>Broadside Ballad</i>, ‘I’ll never go courting again.’ +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">A lawyer’s niece, next, I admired, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">But brief he made my wooing spec; </p> +<p class="line">To a banker’s ward then, I aspired, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">But got from the banker a check (cheque). </p> +<p class="line">A publican said, other measures </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">For his girl he’d to carry out, </p> +<p class="line">And a baker he gave me a ‘<span class="sc">buster</span>,’ </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">With a ‘brick,’ sent me rolling about. </p> +</div> +<p class="first">4. (Australian.)—A heavy storm from the south. Otherwise called in Sydney a <span class="sc">brick fielder</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Household Words</i>, 10 Oct., p. 463. In anxious expectation we now awaited the result of this curious +phenomenon of darkest night in day, which, accustomed to the portents that sometimes +herald in the terrific <span class="sc">busters</span> of these southern seas, as most of us were, all declared they had never seen it equalled. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Busting</b>, <i>verb, subs.</i> (thieves’.)—Informing against accomplices; turning Queen’s evidence. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bust</span>, <i>verb</i>, sense 3. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Peaching</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bustle</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—1. A pad, roll, or wire contrivance worn by women at the back in order +to extend the dress, and also with a view to setting off the smallness of the waist. +[Origin uncertain.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Birdcage</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1788. <span class="sc">T. Monro</span>, in <i>Olla Podrida</i>, No. 40. Such locks the nymphs now wear (in silks who rustle), In rich luxuriance +reaching to the <span class="sc">bustle</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1835. <i>Sketches by Boz</i>, p. 323. Whether she was pretty, whether she wore much <span class="sc">bustle</span>, etc. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 488. ‘Did you ever,’ said a little coquette with a large <span class="sc">bustle</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Trollope</span>, <i>Barchester Towers</i>, ch. xlv., p. 384. Bertie finished off the countess’s <span class="sc">bustle</span>. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—Money. A full list of synonyms will be found under <span class="sc">Actual</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1812. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Flash Dictionary</i>. <span class="sc">Bustle</span>, a cant term for money. <i>Ibid.</i> Any object effected very suddenly, or in a hurry, is said to be done on the <span class="sc">bustle</span>. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (general).—To confuse; confound; perplex.—<i>See</i> previous quot. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 237. ‘Now <span class="sc">bustle</span> him,’ said Tom Maley; ‘you have got him to-rights now. Let go your left straight.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bust-Maker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A molrower; a ‘loose fish’; a seducer. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Molrower</span>. [From <span class="sc">bust</span>, a protuberance, + <span class="sc">maker</span>.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Busy-Sack</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A carpet bag. Called in America a <span class="sc">grip-sack</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Butcher</b>, <i>subs.</i> (cards’).—1. The king in playing-cards. When card-playing in public houses was common, +the kings were called butchers, the queens bitches, and the knaves jacks. The latter +term is now in general use. In French slang the king is <i lang="fr">un bœuf</i>. +</p> +<p>2. (American.)—A peripatetic ‘small-boy’ vendor of ‘varieties’ and ‘notions’ on railway +cars—at once a convenience and a ‘terror.’ +</p> +<p>3. (thieves’.)—The prison doctor. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Crocus</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Butcher About</b>, <i>verb</i> (Wellington College).—To make a great noise; to humbug about. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb396">[<a href="#pb396">396</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Butcher’s Mourning</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A white hat with a black mourning hat-band. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Butteker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A shop. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Butter</b>, <i>subs.</i> (popular).—Fulsome flattery; unctuous praise; ‘soft soap.’ A French equivalent is +<i lang="fr">le cirage</i>. <i>Cf.</i>, <i>verb</i>, sense 1. Also <span class="sc">buttering-up</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">Moore</span>, <i>Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress</i>, p. 40. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">For, knowing how, on Moulsey’s plain, </p> +<p class="line xd33e2810">The champion <i>fibb’d</i> the Poet’s <i>nob</i>, </p> +<p class="line">This <span class="sc">buttering-up</span> against the grain, </p> +<p class="line">We thought was curs’d genteel in Bob. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1823<span>.</span> <i>Blackwood’s Magazine</i>, XIV., p. 309. You have been daubed over by the dirty <span class="sc">butter</span> of his applause. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">A. Trollope</span>, <i>Three Clerks</i>, ch. i. The quantity of <span class="sc">butter</span> which he poured over Mr. Hardline’s head and shoulders with the view of alleviating +the misery which such a communication would be sure to inflict, was very great. +</p> +<p class="cit">1880. <i>World</i>, 13 Oct. A lavish interchange of compliments, the <span class="sc">butter</span> being laid on pretty thick. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (common).—1. To flatter fulsomely; to indulge in rhodomantic praise. French <i>cirer</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1700. <span class="sc">Congreve</span>, <i>Way of World</i>, prol. (1866), 259. The squire that’s <span class="sc">buttered</span> still is sure to be undone. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1725. <i>New Canting Dictionary.</i> <span class="sc">To butter</span> signifies also to cheat or defraud in a smooth and plausible manner. +</p> +<p class="cit">1816. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Antiquary</i>, ch. xxxviii. ‘Keep him employed, man, for half-an-hour or so—<span class="sc">butter</span> him with some warlike terms—praise his dress and address.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1839. <span class="sc">Lever</span>, <i>Harry Lorrequer</i>, ch. xii. ‘He first <span class="sc">butthers</span> them up and then slithers them down!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">C. Kingsley</span>, <i>Two Years Ago</i>. I’ll <span class="sc">butter</span> him, trust me. Nothing comforts a poor beggar like a bit of praise when he is down. +</p> +<p class="cit">1884. <i>Saturday Review</i>, 5 July, p. 27, col. 1. The Lord Chief Justice of England made a tour through America, +and generously <span class="sc">buttered</span> the natives. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—Jamieson says, ‘to increase the stakes every throw or every game.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1690. B. E., <i>Dictionary of Canting Crew</i>. <span class="sc">Butter</span>, to double or treble the bet or wager to recover all losses. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Butter a bet</span>, to double or triple it. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To look as if butter would not melt in one’s mouth</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—A contemptuous saying of a person of somewhat simple demeanour. Murray traces +back this familiar phrase to 1530, but a reference to it appears in French literature +at a much earlier date. +</p> +<p lang="fr" class="cit">1475. <i>Les Evangiles des Quenouilles—Vme Journée.</i> Edition Elzevirienne. Paris (1855), p. 72. A cette parolle mist dame Mehault ses +mains à ses costez et en grant couroux luy respondy que, etc., et que, Dieu merci, +aincoires <span class="sc">fondoit le burre en sa bouche</span>, combien qu’elle ne peust croquier noisettes, car elle n’avoit que un seul dent. +</p> +<p class="cit">1530. <span class="sc">Palgrave</span>, 620, 1. He maketh as thoughe <span class="sc">butter wolde not melte in his mouth</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1562. <span class="sc">Latimer</span>, <i>Serm. Lord’s Prayer</i>, V., ii., 79. These fellows … can speak so finely, that a man would <span class="sc">think butter should scant melt in their mouths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1687. <span class="sc">Sedley</span>, <i>Bellamira</i>. <i>Sil.</i> He look’d so demurely, I thought <span class="sc">butter wou’d not have melted in his mouth</span>, I hope you will make sure work with him before you send him again. +</p> +<p class="cit">1738. <span class="sc">Swift</span>, <i>Polite Conversation</i>, i. She <span class="sc">looks as if butter would not melt in her mouth</span>, but I warrant cheese won’t choak her. +</p> +<p class="cit">1825. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>St. Ronan’s Well</i>, ch. xxviii. (III., p. 26). I am beginning to think ye are but a queer ane, ye <span class="sc">look as if butter wadna melt in your mouth</span>, but I sall warrant cheese no choak ye. +</p> +<p class="cit">1850. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Pendennis</i>, I., p. 149. Telling her landlady how … the Mayor was … a nice, soft-spoken old gentleman; +that <span class="sc">butter <span class="corr" id="xd33e71102" title="Source: would’nt">wouldn’t</span> melt in his mouth</span>, etc. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb397">[<a href="#pb397">397</a>]</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">Will cut butter when it’s hot</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—Said of a knife when blunt. An obvious allusion. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Butter and eggs</span>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Explained by quotations. +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <i>Macmillan’s Mag.</i>, Jan., p. 238. And I can do <span class="sc">butter-and-eggs</span> all down the slide.… The feat of <span class="sc">butter-and-eggs</span> consists in going down the slide on one foot and beating with the heel and toe of +the other at short intervals. +</p> +<p>Compare the foregoing with the following. +</p> +<p class="cit">1836. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Pickwick Papers</i>, II., p. 9. Sam Weller, in particular, was displaying that beautiful feat of fancy +sliding which is currently denominated ‘knocking at the cobblers’ door,’ and which +is achieved by skimming over the ice on one foot, and occasionally giving a two-penny +postman’s knock upon it, with the other. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Butter-Bag</b> or <b>Butter-Box</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Opprobrious epithets for a Dutchman. [? In allusion to Holland producing large +quantities of butter. <i>Cf.</i>, quot., 1811.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1600. <span class="sc">Dekker</span>, <i>Gentle Craft</i>, wks. (1873) I., 21. We have not men enow, but wee must entertaine every <span class="sc">butter-box</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1650. <span class="sc">Howell</span>, <i>Familiar Letters</i>. And for the latter strength we may thank our countryman Ward, and Dansker the <span class="sc">butterbag</span> Hollander, which may be said to have bin two of the fatallest and most infamoust +men that ever Christendom bred. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> <span class="sc">Butter-box.</span> A Dutchman, from the great quantity of butter eaten by the people of that country. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Butter-Boat.</b> <span class="sc">To empty the butter-boat</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To lavish praise; to battle. [From <span class="sc">butter-boat</span>, a table utensil employed for serving melted butter.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1865. <i>Sat. Review</i>, 7 Jan., p. 16, col. 2. That kind of praise which feels like the <span class="sc">butter-boat</span> down one’s back. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1866. <span class="sc">J. H. Skinner</span>, <i>After Storm</i>, I., 181. He praised some things and gave advice about others, using the <span class="sc">butter-boat</span> less freely than is customary at volunteer inspections. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Butter-Box.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Butter-bag</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buttercups</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A graceful pet name for children. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">E. L. Linton</span>, <i>World Well Lost</i>, ch. vii. Hilda was still in the schoolroom, and seldom appeared even at afternoon +tea; which in general is licensed to include ‘<span class="sc">buttercups</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buttered</b>, <i>ppl. adj.</i> (old).—1. Whipped. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Dusted</span>, <span class="sc">Tanned</span>, etc. (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p>2. (common.)—Flattered.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Butter</span>, sense 1. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buttered Bun</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A mistress; also a prostitute, especially one who submits to the sexual embrace +in quick succession with different men. [In this latter sense, if not in former, from +<span class="sc">buttered</span> = greased + <span class="sc">bun</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), the female <i>pudenda</i>.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack-hack</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1679. Cullen, W., <i>Flock of Court Misses</i>, in <i>Roxburgh Ballads</i> (1884), V., 126. This is the day … that sets our Monarch free From <span class="sc">Buttered Buns</span> [<i>i.e.</i>, Louise de Quérouaille] and Slavery. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> One lying with a woman that has just lain with another man, is said to have a <span class="sc">buttered bun</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Butter-Fingered</b>, <i>comp. ppl. adj.</i> (common).—Apt to let things fall; greasy or slippery-fingered. The nickname of <span class="sc">butter-fingers</span> is hence given to those who let things slip easily from their grasp. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb398">[<a href="#pb398">398</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1615. <span class="sc">Markham</span>, <i>English Housewife</i>, II., ii. (1668), 51. She must not be <span class="sc">butter-fingered</span>, sweet-toothed, nor faint-hearted; for the first will let everything fall, etc. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Hood</span>, <i>Pen and Pencil Pictures</i>, p. 141. He was a slovenly player, and went among the cricket lovers by the sobriquet +of <span class="sc">butter-fingers</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1861. <span class="sc">G. Meredith</span>, <i>Evan Harrington</i>. The long-hit-off, he who never was known to miss a catch—<span class="sc">butter-fingered</span> beast!—he has let the ball slip through his fingers. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <span class="sc">Miss Braddon</span>, <i>Golden Calf</i>, ch. xiv. ‘I never allow no <span class="sc">butter-fingered</span> girls in this room, except to sweep or scrub, under my own eye. There’s not many +ornaments, but what there is is precious, and the apple of master’s eye.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Butter-Flap</b>, <i>subs.</i> (rhyming slang).—A trap—<i>i.e.</i>, a light cart. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Butterfly</b>, <i>subs.</i> (nautical).—1. A river barge. +</p> +<p>2. (cabmen’s.)—The guard for the reins affixed to the top of a hansom cab. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Standard</i>, March 6, p. 6, col. 3. The box covered the whole roof of the cab, preventing him +[the cabman] from seeing the <span class="sc">butterfly</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Butternuts</b>, <i>subs.</i> (American.)—The sympathisers with the South in the North and the Middle States during +the American Civil War; the term was derived from the colour of the uniforms worn +in the early part of the war by Confederate soldiers in the West, which, being homespun, +were dyed brown with the juice of the <span class="sc">butternut</span> (<i lang="la">Juglans cinerea</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Butter-Print</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A child; usually one that is illegitimate. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Buttercup</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1620. <span class="sc">Fletcher</span>, <i>Chances</i>, I., v. You will be wiser one day, when you have purchased A bevy of these <span class="sc">butter-prints</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1639. <span class="sc">Beaumont and Fletcher</span>, <i>Wit Without Money</i>, V., iv. I hope she has brought me no <span class="sc">butter-print</span> along with her to lay to my charge. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1709. <i>Brit. Apollo</i>, II., No. 46, p. 3, col. 2. Her Girl and her Boy, For Patterns employ, To make little +<span class="sc">Butter-Prints</span> by. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buttock</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A common prostitute. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Barrack-hack</span>, and <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">File</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1674. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>Canting Academy</i>, 105. The Bawds and the <span class="sc">Buttocks</span> that lived there round. +</p> +<p class="cit">1688. <span class="sc">Shadwell</span>, <i>Squire of Alsatia</i>, I., wks. (1720) IV., 17. What ogling there will be between thee and the Blowings!… +Every <span class="sc">buttock</span> shall fall down before thee. +</p> +<p class="cit">1690. B. E., <i>Dictionary of the Canting Crew</i>. <span class="sc">Buttock and file</span>, both whore and pickpocket. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buttock and File</b>, <i>subs. phr.</i> (old).—A prostitute and her companion; sometimes <span class="sc">bulk and file</span>. Occasionally, too, <span class="sc">buttock and file</span> is used of a single individual—one who unites the <i>roles</i> of a thief and prostitute. [From <span class="sc">buttock</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), a whore, + <span class="sc">file</span> (<i>q.v.</i>), a pickpocket.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1671. <span class="sc">R. Head</span>, <i>English Rogue</i>, pt. I., ch. v., p. 48 (1874). <span class="sc">Bulk and File</span> the Pickpocket and his mate. +</p> +<p class="cit">1754. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Jonathan Wild</i>, bk. I., ch. v. The same capacity which qualifies a mill-ben, a bridle-cull, or a +<span class="sc">buttock and file</span> to arrive at any degree of eminence in his profession would likewise raise a man +in what the world esteem a more honourable calling. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> <span class="sc">Buttock and file</span>, a common whore and a pickpocket. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buttock and Tongue</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A scolding woman; a shrew. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buttock and Twang</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A common prostitute, but who refrains from theft. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Buttock and file</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb399">[<a href="#pb399">399</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>Buttock Ball</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A dance attended by prostitutes. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Ballum rancum</span> and <span class="sc">Buff ball</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1687. <span class="sc">T. Brown</span>, Lib., <i>Consc.</i>, in <i>Dk. Buckingham’s Wks.</i> (1705), II., 131. Why not into a Bibbing-house, as well as a Dancing School, <span class="sc">a buttoc-ball</span>, or the like. +</p> +<p>2. (old.)—The sexual embrace; cohabitation. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bawdy banquet</span> and <span class="sc">Buttock banquetting</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1811. <i lang="la">Lexicon Balatronicum.</i> <span class="sc">Buttock-ball</span>, the amorous congress. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buttock Banquetting</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—Harlotry. +</p> +<p class="cit">1555. <i>Fardle Facions</i>, II., viii., 167. Whiche [wiues] maie neuerthelesse vse <span class="sc">buttocke banquetyng</span> abrode. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buttock-Broker</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A procuress; a bawd; an <span class="sc">abbess</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buttocking Shop</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A brothel; a house of ill fame used by the lowest class of public women. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Button</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A shilling. Formerly this applied to good currency; it now only signifies +counterfeit coin. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Below</span>. +</p> +<p>2. A decoy of any kind, whether the confederate of confidence trick men, or a sham +buyer at an auction. Frequently called a <span class="sc">buttoner</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Bunco-steerer</span>. Fr. <i lang="fr">un allumé</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. I., p. 358. They [cheap Jacks] have a man, or more generally a boy … at a fair, +to hank, or act as a <span class="sc">button</span> (a decoy), to purchase the first lot of goods put up. <i>Ibid</i>, III., p. 121. Then he (the thimble-rigger) turns round to the crowd, and pretends +to be pushing them back, and whilst he is saying, ‘Come gentlemen, stand more backwarder,’ +one of the confederates, who is called a ‘<span class="sc">button</span>,’ lifts up one of the thimbles with a pea under it, and laughs to those around, as +much as to say, ‘We’ve found it out.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">Besant and Rice</span>, <i>Son of Vulcan</i>, ix. The <span class="sc">button</span>, that is the confederate who egged on the flats. +</p> +<p><i>Verb.</i>—To decoy; to act as confederate in swindles. Fr. <i>aguicher</i>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Not to care a button</span>—<span class="sc">brass button</span>, etc., <i>phr.</i> (common).—A very old colloquialism indicative of small value. It has been in continuous +use from the beginning of the fourteenth century down to the present time. Americans +say ‘not worth a cent or a red cent,’ while among variants in common use in England +may be mentioned ‘not to care a fig—a pin—or a sou.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Button Burster</b> or <b>Button Buster</b>, <i>subs.</i> (theatrical).—A low comedian. [The derivation is sufficiently obvious, that is, one +who causes his auditors to laugh so that by a figure of speech their buttons are regarded +as bursting off their clothes.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Button-Catcher</b>, <i>subs.</i> (general).—A tailor. There may be mentioned among +</p> +<p><span class="sc">English Synonyms</span>, snip; cabbage contractor; steel-bar driver; goose persuader; sufferer; ninth part +of a man, etc. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">French Synonyms.</span> <i lang="fr">Un gobeprune</i> (thieves’); <i lang="fr">un emmailloteur</i> (popular); <i lang="fr">un mangeur de prunes</i> (general); <i lang="fr">un pique-poux</i>; <i lang="fr">un pique-prunes</i>; <i lang="fr">un pique-puces</i>; <i lang="fr">un croque-prunes</i>; <i lang="fr">un frus-quineur</i>. <span class="pageNum" id="pb400">[<a href="#pb400">400</a>]</span>(Most of these are offensive terms, as will be seen when it is stated that <i lang="fr">puces</i> = fleas; <i lang="fr">poux</i> = lice, and so on.) +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buttoner</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—A card-sharper’s decoy, an equivalent of <span class="sc">button</span>, <i>subs.</i>, sense 2. For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Decoy-duck</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1841. <i>Blackwood’s Mag.</i>, L., 202. <span class="sc">Buttoners</span> are those accomplices of thimble-riggers … whose duty it is to act as flat-catchers +or decoys, by personating flats. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Snowden</span>, <i>Mag. Assistant</i> (3 ed.), p. 446. To entice another to play—<span class="sc">buttoner</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <i>Cornhill Mag.</i>, II., 334. Enticer of another to play—<span class="sc">buttoner</span>. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Button-On.</b> <span class="sc">To have a button on</span>, <i>phr.</i> (printers’).—To have a fit of the blues; to be despondent.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Chopper on</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Button Pound</b>, <i>subs.</i> (provincial).—Money. For synonyms generally, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Actual</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buttons</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A page; sometimes rendered by <span class="sc">boy in buttons</span>. [In allusion to the numerous <span class="sc">buttons</span> which usually adorn the front of a page’s jacket.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Lovel the Widower</i>, p. 289. [Herein quoted as the name of a page.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1873. <i>Chambers’ Jour.</i>, p. 605. Even the smallest <span class="sc">boy in buttons</span> would have been a retainer too costly for us. +</p> +<p class="cit">1874. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Characters</i>, p. 311. Others limit their views to a page, or ‘<span class="sc">buttons</span>.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1885. <i>Ill. Lon. News</i>, April 11, p. 376, col. 1. Such a man is only fit to be dressed like a <span class="sc">buttons</span>, and set to open the door to visitors who come to call on his family. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Dash</span> or <span class="sc">damn my buttons</span>—<span class="sc">wig</span>, etc., <i>phr.</i> (general).—A mild oath, the word ‘damn’ often being represented by a dash. Ordinarily +employed to express vexation or surprise.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Wm. Howard Russell</span>, <i>My Diary in India</i>, I., p. 26. <span class="sc">Darn my buttons</span> if I haven’t jest a mind to.… +</p> +<p><span class="sc">Not to have all one’s buttons</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To be deficient in intellect; slightly cracky; to have a bee in one’s bonnet.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Apartments to let</span>. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To have a soul above buttons</span>, <i>phr.</i> (common).—To be above one’s work or duty; to think one’s ability superior to one’s +position. [The quotation for 1795 to which Murray calls special attention would seem +to indicate the possible origin of the phrase.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1795. <span class="sc">G. Colman</span>, <i>Sylv. Daggerwood</i>, I. (1808), 10. My father was an eminent Button-Maker … but I <span class="sc">had a soul above buttons</span> … I panted for a liberal profession. [<span class="sc">m<span>.</span></span>]. +</p> +<p class="cit">1833. <span class="sc">Marryat</span>, <i>Peter Simple</i>, ch. i. But my father, who was a clergyman of the Church of England, and the youngest +brother of a noble family, had a lucrative living and <span class="sc">a soul above buttons</span>, if his son had not. +</p> +<p class="cit">1855. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Newcomes</i>, III., p. 93. If I were to say to Captain Crackthorpe, ‘What pretty buttons!’ he +would be delighted. But you—you <span class="sc">have a soul above buttons</span>, I suppose. +</p> +<p><span class="sc">To make buttons</span>, <i>phr.</i> (old).—To look sorry; sad; to be in great fear. +</p> +<p class="cit">1593. <span class="sc">G. Harvey</span>, <i>Pierces Supererog.</i>, in wks. II., 238. Thy witt already <span class="sc">maketh buttons</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1653. <span class="sc">Middleton</span>, <i>Sp. Gipsy</i>, IV., iii. <i>Sam.</i> O Soto, I <span class="sc">make buttons</span>! +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Button Up</b>, <i>verb</i> (American stockbrokers’).—When a broker has bought stock on speculation and it falls +suddenly on his hands, whereby he is a loser, he keeps the matter to himself, and +is <span class="pageNum" id="pb401">[<a href="#pb401">401</a>]</span>reluctant to confess the ownership of a share. This is called <span class="sc">buttoning up</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Butty</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—A comrade or partner. Properly and specifically a miner who raises coal +or ore by contract at a special price per ton, employing others to do the actual work. +Perhaps more provincial than slang, although a writer in <i>Notes and Queries</i>, July 30, 1870, suggests its origin in the <span class="sc">Romany</span>: he says in the gipsy dialect <span class="sc">booty</span> is the term for work. <span class="sc">Booty</span>-pal is a fellow-workman (literally work-brother). As usual when a polysyllable is +imported into ordinary use, it loses its tail; so <span class="sc">booty</span>-pal, in the mouths of navvies ignorant of its origin, would soon be cut down to <span class="sc">booty</span> or <span class="sc">butty</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1845. <span class="sc">Disraeli</span>, <i>Sybil</i>, wks. III., ch. i. Suppose we were to make a shift for a month or six weeks, … and +have no tommy out of the shop, what would the <span class="sc">butty</span> say to me? [A note to foregoing explains that a <span class="sc">butty</span> in the mining districts is a middleman: a Doggy is his manager. The <span class="sc">butty</span> generally keeps a Tommy or Truck shop and pays the wages of the labourers in goods.] +<i>Ibid</i>, p. 385. The <span class="sc">butty</span> has given notice to quit in Parker’s field this se’nnight. <i>Ibid</i>, p. 389. The enemies of the people: all <span class="sc">butties</span>, doggies, dealers in truck and tommy. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">H. Kingsley</span>, <i>Geoffrey Hamlyn</i>, ch. xxxi. ‘He and I cottoned together, and found out that we had been prisoners +together five-and-twenty years agone. And so I shouted [<i>stood drinks</i>] for him, and he for me, and at last I says, <span id="xd33e72048">“</span><span class="sc">Butty</span>,<span id="xd33e72053">”</span> says I, <span id="xd33e72057">“</span>who are those chaps round here on the lay?<span id="xd33e72060">”</span>’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 101. William Carrol was his partner, or <span class="sc">butty</span>, in the ‘lollipop’ business—a dismal looking man, who had always a burnt short clay +pipe in his mouth. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buvare</b>, <i>subs.</i> (strolling players’).—Explained by quotation. <i>Cf.</i>, also <span class="sc">Beware</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. III., p. 201. [Ethiopian serenader <i>loq.</i>] ‘We could then, after our “nunyare” and “<span class="sc">buvare</span>” (that’s what we call eat and drink, and I think it’s broken Italian), carry home +our 5/– or 6/– each, easy.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buy a Prop</b>, <i>phr.</i> (Stock Exchange).—A term used to signify that the market has gone flat, and that +there is no one to support it. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buz</b> or <b>Buzz</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common)<span>.</span>—A parlour game which is thus described by Hotten, who, however, erroneously limited +it to public-houses:—The leader commences saying ‘one,’ the next on the left hand +‘two,’ the next ‘three,’ and so on to <i>seven</i>, when ‘<span class="sc">buz</span>’ must be said. Every seven and multiple of 7, as 14, 17, 21, 27, 28, etc., must not +be mentioned, but ‘<span class="sc">buz</span>’ instead. Whoever breaks the rule pays a fine. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Miss Alcott</span>, <i>Little Women</i>, ch. iii. They … were in the midst of a quiet game of ‘<span class="sc">buzz</span>’ with two or three other young people who had strayed in, when Hannah appeared. +</p> +<p><i>Verb</i> (general).—1. Some uncertainty exists as to whether <span class="sc">to buz</span> signifies to drain a bottle or decanter to the last drop, or whether it means to +share equally the last of a bottle of wine, when there is not enough for a full glass +to each of the party. [<i>See</i>, however, quot. 1795.] Annandale and Hotten incline to the latter; Grose and Murray +to the former view, and the following quotations appear to favour the explanation +of the <span class="pageNum" id="pb402">[<a href="#pb402">402</a>]</span>word first noticed as <span class="sc">buzza</span> by the burly lexicographer of the ‘Vulgar Tongue.’ [? A corruption of <span class="sc">booze</span> or <span class="sc">bouze</span>, <i>i.e.</i>, to drink a bumper or to excess.] The Scotch say <span class="sc">bouse a’</span>, drink all. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">To buzza one</span>, is to challenge him to pour out all the wine in the bottle into his glass, undertaking +to drink it, should it prove more than the glass would hold; it is commonly said to +one who hesitates to empty a bottle that is nearly out. +</p> +<p class="cit">1795. <i>Gent. Mag.</i>, p. 118. Briskly pushed towards me the decanter containing a tolerable <i>bumper</i>, and exclaimed, ‘Sir, I’ll <span class="sc">buzz</span> you: come, no <i>heel taps</i>!’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1821. <span class="sc">W. T. Moncrieff</span>, <i>Tom and Jerry</i>, Act ii., Sc. 1. <i>Cribb.</i> … I’ll give you, ‘<i>May the best man win</i>.’ (<i>All drink.</i>) May the best man win. <i>Green.</i> May the best man vin. <i>Log.</i> With all my heart; but, zounds! we’ve almost <span class="sc">buzz’d</span> the bowl. Let’s have another, and d’ye hear, Tom, serve it up in your prize cup; +Jerry hasn’t seen it, and we mustn’t omit that. +</p> +<p class="cit">1846–48. <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, <i>Vanity Fair</i>, II., 138. ‘Get some more port, Bowls, old boy, whilst I <span class="sc">buzz</span> this bottle here—what was I saying?’ ‘I think you were speaking of dogs killing rats,’ +Pitt remarked mildly, handing his cousin the decanter to <span class="sc">buzz</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1871. <span class="sc">Archibald Forbes</span>, <i>My Experiences of the War between France and Germany</i>, I., p. 234. The Hotel which I had seen a few days before, where <i>Von Tümpling’s</i> staff were <span class="sc">buzzing</span> the bottles. +</p> +<p>2. To pick pockets. [Probably an allusion to <span class="sc">buzz</span> in the sense of to talk busily. The victim in <span class="sc">buzzing</span> or <span class="sc">buz-faking</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) is generally engaged in conversation with a confederate, while the <span class="sc">buzzer</span> (<i>q.v.</i>) is committing the robbery.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Prig</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1789. <span class="sc">Geo. Parker</span>, <i>Life’s Painter</i>, p. 158. In order to give them an opportunity of <i>working</i> upon the <i>prig</i> and <span class="sc">buz</span>, that is, picking of pockets. +</p> +<p class="cit">1857. <span class="sc">Snowden</span>, <i>Mag. Assistant</i>, 3 ed., p. 445. To pick pockets—to <span class="sc">buzz</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1876. <span class="sc">C. Hindley</span>, <i>Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack</i>, p. 261. In my young days there used to travel about in gangs, like men of business, +a lot of people called ‘Nobblers,’ who used to work the ‘thimble and pea rig’ and +go <span class="sc">buzzing</span>, that is, picking pockets, assisted by some small boys. +</p> +<p>3. (American thieves’.)—To search for; to look about one. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buz-Bloke.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Buz-napper</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buz-Cove.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Buz-napper</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buz-Gloak.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Buz-napper</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buz-Man</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—1. A pickpocket. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Buz-napper</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1856. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>Gt. World of London</i>, p. 111. The London <span class="sc">buzman</span> (swell mobsman) can keep his pony by abstracting ‘skins’ (purses) from gentlemen’s +pockets. +</p> +<p>2. (thieves’.)—An informer. [From <span class="sc">buzz</span>, to talk or whisper, + <span class="sc">man</span>.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Nark</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">W. Black</span>, <i>Green Past. and Picc.</i>, ch. xi. What was all this about ‘Billy Rowland,’ ‘Scotland Yard,’ ‘Spy,’ ‘<span class="sc">Buzman</span>,’ and the rest? +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buz-Napper</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—1. A pickpocket. [From <span class="sc">buz</span>, to pick pockets, + <span class="sc">napper</span> or <span class="sc">nabber</span>, one who seizes or snatches. ‘Buz-bloke,’ ‘buz-cove,’ ‘buz-gloak,’ ‘buz-man,’ and +‘buzzer,’ are all variants of <span class="sc">buz-napper</span>; ‘bloke,’ ‘cove,’ and ‘gloak,’ are old canting terms for a man.] For synonyms, <i>see</i> <span class="sc">Area-sneak</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1781. <span class="sc">G. Parker</span>, <i>View of Society</i>, II., 174. A young fry of boys … follow the profession of a <span class="sc">buz-napper</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb403">[<a href="#pb403">403</a>]</span></p> +<p class="cit">1819. <span class="sc">J. H. Vaux</span>, <i>Memoirs of Convict Life in Australia</i>. <span class="sc">Buz-cove</span> or <span class="sc">buz-gloak</span>, a pickpocket; a person who is clever at this practice is said to be a ‘good buz.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1834. <span class="sc">H. Ainsworth</span>, <i>Rookwood</i>, bk. III., ch. v. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Until at last there was none so knowing, </p> +<p class="line">No such sneaksman or <span class="sc">buz-gloak</span> going. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1856. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>Gt. World of London</i>, p. 46. Those who plunder by <i>stealth</i>, as … ‘<span class="sc">buzzers</span>,’ who pick gentlemen’s pockets. +</p> +<p class="cit">1859. <span class="sc">Sala</span>, <i>Twice Round the Clock</i>, 3 p.m., par. 10. Where these <i>ruffiani</i>, these copper captains and cozening <span class="sc">buz-gloaks</span>, are to be found during the day, or even up to midnight … must remain a secret. +</p> +<p class="cit">1862. <span class="sc">Mayhew</span>, <i>Crim. Prisons</i>, 46. <span class="sc">Buzzers</span> who pick gentlemen’s pockets, and ‘wires’ who pick ladies’ pockets. +</p> +<p class="cit">1867. <i>Galaxy</i>, p. 634. While the [New York] police had no right to arrest pickpockets unless they +caught them committing a theft, yet as they had the power to do so, they exercised +it, and many were the car-<span class="sc">buzzers</span> they led captives to police headquarters. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buz-Napper’s Academy</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A school in which young thieves were trained. Figures were dressed up, and +experienced tutors stood in various difficult attitudes for the boys to practise upon. +When clever enough they were sent on the streets. Dickens gives full particulars of +this old style of ‘business’ in <i>Oliver Twist</i>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1781. <span class="sc">G. Parker</span>, <i>View of Society</i>, II., 173. [A <span class="sc">Buz-napper’s Academy</span> is named and described in this work.] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buz-Napper’s Kinchin</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A watchman. Synonymous terms in the sense of police will be found under <span class="sc">beak</span> (<i>q.v.</i>). +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buzzer.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Buz-napper</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Buzzing</b> or <b>Buz-Faking</b>, <i>subs.</i> (thieves’).—Pocket-picking. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">Buz</span>, <i>verb</i>, sense 2. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>By-Blow</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—An illegitimate child. [An allusion to the unacknowledged status of the mother, +and the ‘accident’ of the birth of such children.] Also called <span class="sc">by-chop</span> and <span class="sc">by-slip</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1594. <span class="sc">Barnfield</span>, <i>Affectionate Shepherd</i>. In such a ladies lappe, at such a slipperie <span class="sc">by-blow</span>, That in a world so wide could not be found such a wilie Lad; in an age so old, could +not be found such an old lad. +</p> +<p class="cit">1625. <span class="sc">Massinger</span>, <i>Parl. of Love</i>, II., i. Give to each <span class="sc">by-blow</span>, I know mine, a farm. +</p> +<p class="cit">1678. <span class="sc">C. Cotton</span>, <i>Scarronides</i>, bk. I., p. 21 (ed. 1725). +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">Now <i>Venus</i> was <i>Æneas</i> Mother, </p> +<p class="line">In the behalf then of her <span class="sc">by-blow</span>, </p> +<p class="line">Which had endured many a dry-Blow, </p> +<p class="line">She weeping came, sighing and throbbing. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1705–7. <span class="sc">Ward</span>, <i>Hudibras Redivivus</i>, vol. II., pt. II., p. 19. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line">The poor Man’s House abound with Brats, </p> +<p class="line">As country Barn with Mice and Rats; </p> +<p class="line">And Parishes be fill’d with <span class="sc">by-blows</span> </p> +<p class="line">As thick as Butchers’ Stalls with Fly-blows. </p> +</div> +<p class="first cit">1748. <span class="sc">T. Dyche</span>, <i>Dictionary</i> (5 ed.). <span class="sc">By-blow</span> (s.), a bastard or illegitimate child. +</p> +<p class="cit">1868. <span class="sc">Browning</span>, <i>Ring and Bk.</i>, iv., 612. A drab’s brat, A beggar’s <span class="sc">bye-blow</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1875. <span class="sc">Ouida</span>, <i>Signa</i>, vol. I., ch. iii., p. 34. The one who held the child turned his light on the little +wet face;… ‘And whose <span class="sc">by-blow</span> is this?’ said he. ‘The devil knows,’ said he who knelt by the mother. ‘But it is +Pippa.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>By-Chop.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">By-blow</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1632. <span class="sc">Jonson</span>, <i>Magnetic Lady</i>, iv., 2. +</p> +<div class="lgouter cit"> +<p class="line xd33e5086">First I have sent </p> +<p class="line"><span class="sc">By-chop</span> away; the cause gone, the fame ceaseth. </p> +</div> +<p><span class="pageNum" id="pb404">[<a href="#pb404">404</a>]</span></p> +<p class="first main"><b>By Cracky!</b> <i>intj.</i>—A meaningless ejaculation conveying no idea beyond that of general surprise.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1888. <i>Superior Inter-Ocean.</i> Say, haint Tubbs a Methodist? <span class="sc">By cracky!</span> here’s where it is, and in we walked. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Bye-Drink</b>, <i>subs.</i> (common).—Liquid refreshment taken at other than meal-times. [From <span class="sc">bye</span> = not in regular course + <span class="sc">drink</span>.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1766. <span class="sc">Kenrick</span>, <i>Falstaff’s Wedding</i>, i., 1. I could wish, nevertheless, old white wine stood higher in his lordship’s +favour; that I may not be stinted at table, or in my <span class="sc">by-drinkings</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1883. <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, Jan. 10, p. 5, col. 3. Our business men—and many others who are not men of business—take, +as it is, a great many more ‘<span class="sc">bye-drinks</span>’ in the way of ‘sherry’ and ‘whiskey cold’ than is good for them. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>By George!</b> <i>intj. phr.</i> (popular).—An ejaculation signifying either surprise, or anger, or used without any +special meaning. Phrases of the kind are very numerous, and are mainly employed by +those whose poverty of language is otherwise very marked. [<span class="sc">By George!</span> may either be a reference to St. George, the patron saint of England, or to the predominant +Christian name of the early sovereigns of the Brunswick dynasty.] +</p> +<p class="cit">1731. <span class="sc">Fielding</span>, <i>Grub Street Opera</i>, Act iii., Sc. 7. <span class="sc">By George</span>, I’ll make an example of him. +</p> +<p class="cit">1737. <i>Bacchus and Venus</i>, p. 117. <span class="sc">’Fore George</span>, I’d knock him down. +</p> +<p class="cit">1852. <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, <i>Bleak House</i>, ch. xxxviii. ‘I—er—a little subject to this sort of thing—er—<span class="sc">By George!</span>’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>By Goldam!</b> <i>intj. phr.</i> (American).—A semi-veiled oath. The Yankee is peculiarly fertile in variations on +the name of God, and gives a striking proof of his ingenuity in inventing new forms +for the forbidden <i>I swear</i>. He has his <span class="sc">by Gorram!</span> <span class="sc">by Goldam!</span> and <span class="sc">by Goshdang!</span> by the side of the English oath <span class="sc">by Golly!</span> which occurs as early as 1743.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>By Golly!</b> <i>intj. phr.</i> (popular).—A euphemistic phrase for <span class="sc">by God!</span>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1743. <span class="sc">W. Warren</span>, <i>Five Arguments against Tythes</i>. ‘The first person consulted a gentleman-farmer, and declared that he never read +anything so good in his life. <span id="xd33e72769">“</span><span class="sc">By golly</span>,<span id="xd33e72774">”</span> says he, <span id="xd33e72777">“</span>he ’as mauled the parsons.<span id="xd33e72781">”</span>’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1851–61. <span class="sc">H. Mayhew</span>, <i>London Lab. and Lon. Poor</i>, vol. III., p. 204. Then I turn round to him and say, ‘<span class="sc">By golly</span>, if you don’t leave off, I’ll broke you over de jaw.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>By Gorram!</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">By Goldam!</span> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>By Gosh!</b> <i>intj. phr.</i> (popular).—A compromise for <span class="sc">By God!</span> +</p> +<p class="cit">1804. <span class="sc">C. K. Sharpe</span>, in <i>Correspondence</i> (1888), I., 210. I promise, <span class="sc">by Gosh</span> (which is the most elegant and classical oath imaginable). +</p> +<p class="cit">1877. <span class="sc">W. Black</span>, <i>Green Past. and Picc.</i>, ch. xxxv. ‘If this goes on,’ said he suddenly, ‘<span class="sc">by Gosh</span>, I’ll heave!’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>By Gum!</b> <b>By Gummy!</b> <i>intj. phr.</i> (American).—Both these expletives are extracts from the great American <i>Dictionary of Oaths and Cuss Words</i>, compiled by descendants of the Puritan Fathers.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1860. <span class="sc">Haliburton</span> (‘Sam Slick’), <i>The Season Ticket</i>, No. ix. ‘<span class="sc">By gum</span>, Squire Shegog, we have had the greatest bobbery of a shindy in our carriage you +ever knowed in all our born days.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>By Hook or By Crook.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Hook</span>. +<span class="pageNum" id="pb405">[<a href="#pb405">405</a>]</span></p> +<p class="main"><b>By Hooky</b>, <i>intj. phr.</i> (popular).—A mild form of swearing.—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Oaths</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1882. <span class="sc">Jas. Payn</span>, <i>For Cash Only</i>, ch. xxii. ‘Pay me what you owe me,’ says I, ‘or, <span class="sc">by hooky</span>, I’ll tell your father.’ +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Byng</b>, <b>Bing</b>, <i>verb</i> (old).—To go. <span class="sc">Bynge-awaste</span>, to go away. +</p> +<p class="cit">1567. <span class="sc">Harman</span>, <i>Caveat</i>, or <i>Warening for Commen Cursetors</i>, p. 86. <i>Man.</i> What, stowe your bene, cofe, and cut benat whydds, and <span class="sc">byng</span> we to rome vyle, to nyp a bong; so shall we haue lowre for the bousing ken and when +we <span class="sc">byng</span> back to the deuseauyel, we wyll fylche some duddes of the Ruffemans, or myll the +ken for a lagge of dudes. [<i>i.e.</i>] What, holde your peace, good fellowe, and speake better wordes, and go we to London, +to cut a purse; then shall we haue money for the ale house, and when wee come backe +agayne into the country, we wyll steale some lynnen clothes of one hedges, or robbe +some house for a bucke of clothes. +</p> +<p class="cit">1610. <span class="sc">Rowlands</span>, <i>Martin Mark-all</i>, p. 37 (H. Club’s Repr., 1874). <span class="sc">Bing a wast</span>, get you hence. +</p> +<p class="cit">1785. <span class="sc">Grose</span>, <i>Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue</i>. <span class="sc">Binged avast</span> in a darkmans, stole away in the night. <span class="sc">Bing</span> we to Rumeville, shall we go to London? +</p> +<p class="cit">1815. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Guy Mannering</i>, ch. xxviii. ‘<span class="sc">Bing</span> out and tour [go out and watch] ye auld devil, and see that nobody has scented.’ +</p> +<p class="cit">1822. <span class="sc">Scott</span>, <i>Fortunes of Nigel</i>, ch. xvii. ‘I smell a spy,’ replied the other, looking at Nigel.… ‘<span class="sc">Bing avast, bing avast!</span>’ replied his companion. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>By-Scape</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A bastard. <i>Cf.</i>, <span class="sc">By-blow</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1646. <span class="sc">Earl Monm.</span>, <i>Biondi’s List.</i>, VI., ix., 197. For his being God-son to her Brother, and … for that (being very +fair) she thought him a <span class="sc">by-scape</span> of his. [<span class="asc">M.</span>] +</p> +<p class="main"><b>By-Slip</b>, <i>subs.</i> (old).—A bastard. <i>See</i> <span class="sc">By-blow</span>. +</p> +<p class="cit">1692. <span class="sc">Hacket</span>, <i>Life of Williams</i>, ii., 37. As Pope Paul the Third carried himself to his ungracious <span class="sc">by-slips</span> (an Incubus could not have begot worse), who made no further inquisition after their +horrid facts but to say, They learnt it not of him. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>Byte.</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Bit</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>By the Ever-Living Jumping Moses!</b> <i>intj. phr.</i>—An effective ejaculation and moral waste-pipe for interior passion or wrath is seen +in the exclamation, <span class="sc">by the ever-living jumping Moses!</span>—a harmless phrase, that for its length expends a considerable quantity of fiery anger.—<i>Hotten.</i> +</p> +<p class="main"><b>By the Living Jingo!</b> or <b>By Jingo!</b>—<i>See</i> <span class="sc">Jingo</span>. +</p> +<p class="main"><b>By the Wind</b>, <i>phr.</i> (nautical).—Hard up; in difficulties. [In reference to the wind being formerly the +most important element of success in a sailor’s calling.] +</p> +<p class="trailer center"><span class="sc">End of Vol. I.</span></p> +<p><span class="pageNum" id="pb406">[<a href="#pb406">406</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="back"> +<div class="div1 abbreviations"> +<div class="divHead"> +<h2 class="main">List of Abbreviations, Signs, etc.</h2> +<table class="splitListTable"> +<tr> +<td> +<ul> +<li><i>Adj.</i> = Adjective. </li> +<li><i>Adj. phr.</i> = Adjectival phrase. </li> +<li><i>Adv.</i> = Adverb. </li> +<li><i>Adv. phr.</i> = Adverbial phrase. </li> +<li><i>C. c.</i> = <i>Circa</i>, about. </li> +<li><i>Cf.</i> <i>cf.</i> = <i lang="la">Confer</i>, compare. </li> +<li><i>f.</i> = feminine. </li> +<li>F. or Fr. = French. </li> +<li>Heb. = Hebrew. </li> +<li><i>imp.</i> = imperative. </li> +<li><i>int.</i> = interjection. </li> +<li><i>intr.</i> = intransitive. </li> +<li>It. = Italian. </li> +<li>lit. = literally. </li> +<li>[<span class="asc">M.</span>] = Murray (quoted from <i>New English Dictionary</i>). </li> +</ul> +</td> +<td> +<ul> +<li><i>m.</i> = masculine. </li> +<li><span class="asc">M.E.</span> = Middle English. </li> +<li><span class="asc">M.H.G.</span> = Middle High German. </li> +<li>[<span class="asc">N.</span>] = Nares (quoted from). </li> +<li><span class="asc">O.E.</span> = Old English. </li> +<li><span class="asc">O.H.G.</span> = Old High German. </li> +<li><i>ppl.</i> = participial or participle. </li> +<li><i>phr.</i> = phrase. </li> +<li><i>pl.</i> = plural. </li> +<li>pop. = popular. </li> +<li><i>ppl. adj.</i> = participial adjective. </li> +<li>(<i>q.v.</i>) = <i lang="la">quod vide</i>, which see. </li> +<li><i>subs.</i> = substantive. </li> +<li><i>trans.</i> = transitive. </li> +<li><span class="asc">U.S.</span> or <span class="asc">U.S.A.</span> = United States of America. </li> +</ul> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p>When a word is printed in small capitals it should be referred to for further information. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div1 imprint"> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first center small">THOS. POULTER AND SONS, LIMITED, 6, ARTHUR STREET WEST, LONDON BRIDGE, E.C. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="transcriberNote"> +<h2 class="main">Colophon</h2> +<p>The new cover art included with this eBook is hereby granted to the public domain.</p> +<h3 class="main">Revision History</h3> +<ul> +<li>2026-02-08 Started. </li> +</ul> +<h3 class="main">Corrections</h3> +<p>The following 229 corrections have been applied to the text:</p> +<table class="correctionTable"> +<tr> +<th>Page</th> +<th>Source</th> +<th>Correction</th> +<th>Edit distance</th> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e268">x</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e293">x</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="de">Gaunerspräche</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="de">Gaunersprache</td> +<td class="bottom">1 / 0</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e303">x</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e2761">19</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e10665">69</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="pt">Calaõ</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="pt">Calão</td> +<td class="bottom">2 / 0</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e434">2</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">”</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">’</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e542">3</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Hélöise</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Héloïse</td> +<td class="bottom">2 / 0</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><i title="48 occurrences">Passim. +</i></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Not in source</i>] +</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">.</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e988">7</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e37927">226</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e72053">401</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e72774">404</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">’</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">”</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e1109">8</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Greeek</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Greek</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e1130">8</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Semetic</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Semitic</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e1426">10</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e3272">22</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e18383">116</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e24502">154</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e40442">240</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e47363">278</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">,</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">.</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e1496">11</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e1654">12</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e52200">303</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e54351">314</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">.</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Deleted</i>] +</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e1503">11</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">t oits</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">to its</td> +<td class="bottom">2</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e1807">13</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e5062">34</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e6299">43</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e9131">60</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e44477">264</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">’</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Deleted</i>] +</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><i title="38 occurrences">Passim. +</i></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Not in source</i>] +</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">’</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e1828">13</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e8422">56</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e26569">166</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e36741">220</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e37176">222</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e61070">348</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e61348">350</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e67213">376</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Not in source</i>] +</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">]</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e1977">14</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Not in source</i>] +</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">;</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e2030">14</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e11208">72</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e12947">82</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e19028">120</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Not in source</i>] +</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">)</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e2551">18</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">(</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Deleted</i>] +</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e2783">19</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e2843">19</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e3427">23</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e10313">67</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e12580">80</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e37025">221</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e43494">259</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e70410">393</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e70413">393</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Not in source</i>] +</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">,</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e3390">23</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e11092">71</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e12146">77</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e17742">113</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e38513">229</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e64049">362</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">.</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">,</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e3545">24</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Not in source</i>] +</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">[</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e4070">28</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Not in source</i>] +</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">(</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e4331">30</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">subst.</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">subs.</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e4586">31</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Not in source</i>] +</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">, subs.</td> +<td class="bottom">7</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e4831">32</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">synomyous</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">synonymous</td> +<td class="bottom">2</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e5065">34</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e6427">44</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e7545">50</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e11057">71</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e17474">111</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e18020">114</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e20918">133</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e43264">257</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e51334">299</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e61620">351</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e65060">367</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e70569">394</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Not in source</i>] +</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">‘</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e5767">39</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e44711">265</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e47170">277</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e57298">329</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e59560">341</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e59577">341</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e59594">341</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e59645">341</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e67698">379</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">.)</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">).</td> +<td class="bottom">2</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e5884">39</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">adaptibility</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">adaptability</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e6323">43</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">judical</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">judicial</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e6470">44</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Not in source</i>] +</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">’)</td> +<td class="bottom">2</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e7525">50</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">onself</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">oneself</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e7926">52</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">scintilation</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">scintillation</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e8427">56</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">’]</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">]’</td> +<td class="bottom">2</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e9105">60</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">refering</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">referring</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e9483">63</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Etymolygists</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Etymologists</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e10735">69</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e11545">73</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e53884">312</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e60022">343</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e66382">373</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">onamatopoetic</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">onomatopoetic</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e10772">70</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">philsopher</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">philosopher</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e12306">78</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Montkbarns</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Monkbarns</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e12930">82</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">,</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Deleted</i>] +</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e15434">98</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">1881</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">1818</td> +<td class="bottom">2</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e15630">99</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Viginians</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Virginians</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e16601">106</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">engagment</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">engagement</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e17012">109</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="fr">Etre</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="fr">Être</td> +<td class="bottom">1 / 0</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e17528">111</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">calle</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">called</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e18790">119</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Palœotheria</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Palæotheria</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e20163">128</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">spectales</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">spectacles</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e21995">140</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">?</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">.</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e23269">147</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">o hers</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">others</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e24579">154</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">’?</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">?’</td> +<td class="bottom">2</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e31321">191</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">n</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">in</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e31819">193</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">:</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">.</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e37924">226</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e59828">342</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e72048">401</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e72057">401</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e72769">404</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e72777">404</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">‘</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">“</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e38312">228</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Tristam</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Tristram</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e38609">229</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">deluyed</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">deluged</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e40974">245</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Andromicus</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Andronicus</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e42543">254</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> </td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">.</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e44681">265</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="nl">bloffen</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="nl">blaffen</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e44685">265</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="de">verlüffen</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="de">verblüffen</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e46004">271</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">hin</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">him</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e47756">280</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">S [<span class="sc">ala</span>]</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"><span class="sc">S[ala]</span></td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e48997">287</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">pretex</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">pretext</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e52723">306</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">.’</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">’.</td> +<td class="bottom">2</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e56069">323</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="nl">draagd’er</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="nl">draagt ’er</td> +<td class="bottom">2</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e56160">323</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">i</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">is</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e56687">326</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">absolulely</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">absolutely</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e56798">327</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="grc">οὶκοδομεἴυ</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="grc">οἰκοδομεῖν</td> +<td class="bottom">3 / 1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e58576">336</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">trag dy</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">tragedy</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e59207">339</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">bbown</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">brown</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e59834">342</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e72060">401</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd33e72781">404</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en"> +[<i>Not in source</i>] +</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">”</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e60855">346</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">hesat</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">he sat</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e64871">366</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">There</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">They</td> +<td class="bottom">2</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e65229">368</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">’ ”</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">” ’</td> +<td class="bottom">2</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e67792">380</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Arrogrant</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Arrogant</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e68273">382</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">Cotnty</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">County</td> +<td class="bottom">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd33e71102">396</a></td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">would’nt</td> +<td class="width40 bottom" lang="en">wouldn’t</td> +<td class="bottom">2</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +</div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78263 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |