Chapter I: Part 1

SLANG AND CANT
IN
JEROME K. JEROME’S WORKS

A STUDY

BY
OLOF E. BOSSON

CAMBRIDGE
W. HEFFER & SONS, LTD.
1911

LUND 1911
PRINTED BY HÅKAN OHLSSON

Contents.

Preface 5

Bibliography: Chronological list of Jerome K. Jerome’s Works 8

Introduction 9

A Grammatical Survey 17

I. Phonetic Notes 19

II. Accidence 22

III. Syntax 26

Slang 31

Slang > Colloquial English 37

Vulgarism or Cant 45

Vulgarism > Colloquial English 67

Index 79

Preface.

The object of this essay is to examine _vulgarism_ and _slang_ in the works of JEROME K. JEROME (b. 1859).

JEROME gives us very good specimens of the ordinary language of the Victorian era. His style is not surprisingly original, but he shows a remarkable talent in rendering with perfect accuracy the characteristic talk of different classes of society. The persons he introduces to us need only utter a few words, before we are able to form a conception of their social position, their degree of culture, etc.; very often we get in this manner a clue also to their character. The author has led an exceptionally varied life—in his early years he was at different times a clerk, a teacher, an actor, a journalist. He had, accordingly, frequent opportunities of communicating with individuals of different social position and different culture, and of studying their language. He does not aim at grammatical peculiarities, elaborate phrases, or rare expressions; his language is the average language of his own time, acutely observed and faithfully rendered. Giving us thus a true and varied image of the talk of different classes and trades, his writings are specially suited to form the material for a study of _slang_ and _cant_.

Concerning a subject so changeable as cant and slang, it is evidently of importance to know the acceptation of every expression at every period of the development of the language. As a matter of course, therefore, I have tried to discover, in the language of our author, the exact shade of sense of the different slang and cant-expressions, especially in cases where it does not coincide with the common usage, or where it concerns rare expressions.

In order to contribute to the knowledge of the prevalence of the cant and slang-expressions, I have tried to indicate the social position, the sex, the degree of culture, etc., of the persons speaking; and, as far as possible, I have ascertained the history and etymology of my expressions, though, in this respect, my efforts have often been without success.

A rather difficult point has been the classification of the expressions. The question whether a term may be regarded as vulgar or slang, or merely colloquial, is, in many cases, very debateable, as the opinions even of qualified judges concerning this matter are often divergent. In such cases, I have endeavoured to find a medium, founding my statements on the authority of cultivated Englishmen.

A number of original cant and slang-expressions have, _to a certain degree_, penetrated into the colloquial speech of the cultivated, holding thus an intermediate position between cant or slang on one side, and colloquial language on the other: these terms have been treated as special groups _vulgar_ > _colloquial_ and _slang_ > _colloquial_.

I take the opportunity to express my sincere thanks to the University-Lecturer, Mr. CHARLES SCOTT FEARENSIDE, whose valuable assistance has been of great use to me throughout the course of my researches.

I also beg to express my gratitude to Mr. SIDNEY CHARLESTON, University-Lecturer in Upsala, and to Mrs. GERTRUDE FAHLSTRÖM, née PICKERING.

Lund, October 6th, 1910.

_Olof Bosson._

Bibliography.

In the following list of Jerome’s books, T. E. means «Tauchnitz Edition», E. L. «The English Library».

_Year of
first
publication._
1885. On The Stage And Off (Field & T.)
1886. Idle Thoughts Of An Idle Fellow (Field & T.)
1889. Stage Land (Chatto & Windus.)
1889. Three Men In A Boat (E. L.)
1890. Told After Supper (Field & T.)
1891. Diary Of A Pilgrimage (T. E.)
1893. John Ingerfield (McLure.)
1893. Novel Notes (T. E.)
1897. Sketches In Lavender, Blue And Green (T. E.)
1897. Humours Of Cycling (Chatto.)
1898. Second Thoughts Of An Idle Fellow (Hurst.)
1900. Three Men On The Bummel (T. E.)
1902. Paul Kelver. I, II. (T. E.)
1903. Tea Table Talk and the Observations of Henry (T. E.)
[Here Cited As T. T. T.]
1904. Tommy And Co. (T. E.)
1905. Idle Ideas In 1905 (Hurst.)
1907. The Passing Of The Third Floor Back (T. E.)
1908. The Angel And The Author (Hurst & Co.)
1909. They And I (T. E.)

_Plays_

Miss Hobbs (Messrs. Samuel French, Ltd.)
Woodbarrow Farm ( » » » » )
Prude’s Progress (French’s Acting Ed.)
Barbara ( » » )
Sunset ( » » )
Fennel ( » » )

Introduction.

During the last years, a conspicuous interest—not only on the part of philologists—has been devoted to that strange outgrowth of language which prospers and develops, unrestricted by all literary traditions, in the easy, natural talk of uncultivated people and of certain groups and trades. This special language is, indeed, of real interest, and its study is of importance, not only as a matter of curiosity.

The philologist has here ample scope for observations of different kinds.

In the language of the uneducated ‘vulgus’, he will often meet with the first traces of an evolution which the literary and cultivated language will have to pass through in the future; on the other hand, he will recognize old forms and obsolete constructions which have passed out of use in the language of the cultivated. Concerning the development of the sense of words, as well as phonetic development, he will be able to make observations of great interest.

In this special language _literature_ has at its disposal an ever-flowing source of renewal.

It is supplied with an abundance of picturesque, amusing, and characteristic words, of surprising and original expressions, of terms constituting a spontaneous and striking manifestation of the speaker’s thought at a certain moment. Every individual being allowed to speak his own natural language, character-drawing gains in veracity, literary description in freshness and variety.

In one of Jerome’s books (Paul Kelver, Vol. II. p. 208. l. 14), we come across the following little dialogue:

»The wonderful songs that nobody ever sings, the wonderful pictures that nobody ever paints, and all the rest of it. It’s _Tommy rot_!»

»I wish you wouldn’t use _slang_.»

»Well, you know what I mean. What is the proper word? Give it me.»

»I suppose you mean ‘cant’», I suggested. »No, I don’t. Cant is something that you don’t believe in yourself. It’s ‘_Tommy rot_’; there isn’t any other word.»

The young lady who makes the above remark is quite right. There are many words in the English language that say _about_ the same, but there is not a single word in the ‘normal’, literary language, that tells us exactly what she wants to get said; not another word forming a concise expression of her thought, and giving us at the same time a clue to her character.

Quite naturally, modern literature has made ample use of this »vulgar» language, and, at the same time, the philologists have striven to investigate its resources. Thus, France possesses about half a dozen _Dictionnaires d’Argot_, and the English-speaking world has at its disposal about the same number of modern _Slang_ and _Cant Dictionaries_. Linguistic studies and essays treating this subject are as yet rather few, but no doubt they will appear in greater number in the future.

No other literature has been influenced by this language to such an extent as the English. In Great Britain, there have been no _Academy_, no »_salons littéraires_», fettering and regulating the literary language. Being allowed to develop itself in perfect liberty, it has gathered its method of expression from different ranges of language and society. Ever since the days of Shakespeare, English authors have made ample use of the easy every-day language of the lower classes; and, from the beginning of the 15th century, a rich, independent literature of slang and vulgar tongue has been developing[1]. Modern English realists have attained a real virtuosity in rendering with almost photographic, or rather phonographic, accuracy the talk of different classes and individuals. It may be truly said that it is impossible to acquire a thorough knowledge of English without being familiar with slang and vulgarism. Whoever is uninitiated into this special language will be at a loss to understand many of the masterpieces of English literature. Nay, without any knowledge of it, he will scarcely be able even to understand an English paper.

»If you will allow me the use of slang» is a phrase often heard in English conversation; but in reality a considerable number of original slang and cant expressions are used without any special permission—often without the speaker’s knowing it. There is—as in all languages, and in English much more than in any other—a constant flow from »low class» into »high class» language. A word or an expression, having been long in use exclusively among the working classes, or in the easy talk of certain trades, gradually penetrates into the colloquial speech of the cultivated—sometimes with a slight change of the sense—and suddenly appears one day in refined literary language. In actual English, there are many such expressions, originating partly from cant, partly from slang[2].

Now, what is _slang_, and what is _cant_?

When the average Englishman employs the word »slang», he usually means all that he does not regard as »correct» English, all that sounds to his ears more or less vulgar. In reality, a certain confusion seems to have been long prevailing in English conception and English literature concerning »flash» and »cant» (vulgarism) on one side, and »slang» on the other[3].

By =slang=, I mean _the easy, natural, semi-technical language of special classes of society_.

In English, as well as in most other languages, there are a great many terms and expressions which are chiefly used in certain trades and professions, and which are often unintelligible to outsiders. Such terms, for instance, are _pater_, _mater_ (father, mother), to be _plucked_ or _ploughed_ (to be rejected in an examination), _tuck_ (sweetstuff), _swot_ (study hard), _slack_ (the contrary of the last-named), _coach_ (private tutor), etc., all in common use among schoolboys. Many of them, such as _chum_, _chummy_, _cheek_, _jaw_ (chatter), _spoon_ (make love), _bunk_ (run away, escape), etc., have exceeded their original sphere and encroached upon common, colloquial language. Among the most important categories of slang, the following may be mentioned: _student-_, _schoolboy-_, _military-_, _commercial-_ and _sporting-slang_. The political world, Parliament, the printing-offices, the stage, nay, even the Church, give their tributes to the vocabulary of slang. The slang-terms are mostly common to all individuals of the same class, but occasionally they differ. Thus, two universities, or even two neighbouring schools, sometimes use different semi-technical terms to express the same idea.

By =cant= or =vulgarism= (low-slang) I mean _the easy, natural language of the uneducated people_.

Originally, _cant_ signified the _secret language_, used by the vagrant classes, the »Canting Crew»—gipsies, thieves, beggars, highwaymen, etc. But, in the course of time, the word has become a general, half-contemptuous name for the special phraseology and vocabulary of the lower classes. _Cant_ is the native tongue of _Seven Dials_ and _Whitechapel_, of _Wapping_ and _St. Giles_, of _Clare Market_ and _East India Docks_, generally speaking, of the suburbs and slums of English towns—of all places where »the Rough», the uncultivated individual of the lower classes, has his whereabouts. The labourer generally intermingles his talk more or less with _cant_. It is the jargon of the _Street Arabs_ (the London street-boys), the _Costers_, the _Bookmakers_, the _Hooligans_ (the »Apaches» of London), the _Cheap Jacks_, the _Newspaper Boys_, the _Shoeblack Brigade_, etc., etc. The colloquial language of the cultivated is mixed up with cant-expressions, the amount depending on the individual’s social position, his sex, his age, etc. Even literary language now and then borrows a term or a phrase from _cant_. Words such as _cad_, _pal_, _rum_, _row_, _cove_, etc., are nowadays understood in refined society, and are generally used in colloquial language.

The centre and starting-point of _cant_ has always been London—»Rom Vile», the marvellous city—and the vagrant people, assembled thither from all parts of the Empire and of the world, have joined in creating its vocabulary.

Its cosmopolitan character makes it a very difficult task to search into its etymological sources, all the more so, as the words and phrases have regularly become more or less altered on their being transplanted into English soil. The cleverest etymologists are here often non-plussed, and, in most cases, we must content ourselves with conjectures. Quite naturally, the main part of its vocabulary consists of _Anglo-Saxon_ words, usually badly maimed. The mysterious Gipsy language, _Romany_, as yet but imperfectly investigated, has furnished a considerable number of old cant-terms. Such words are, for instance, _pal_, _row_, _cove_, _rum_ or _rom_, _shindy_, all original cant-terms, but now partly colloquial[4]. In _French_ originate, e. g., the old cant-word _vile_ (town), _cropoh_ (= crapaud, nick-name for a Frenchman), _savey_ (to know), _bean_ (a generic term for money; bien), _quandary_ (qu’en dirai-je? embarrassment), _dace_ or _duce_ (deux: a twopenny-piece); in _German_: _frow_ (Frau), _kinchen_ (Kindchen), _nix_ (nichts), _gilt_ (old cant for money), _finuf_ (a five-pound-note: fünf); in _Italian_: _case_ (house); _nantee_ (niente: nothing), _letty_ (letto: bedstead), _bene_ (as in _bene darkmans_: good night!); in _Dutch_: _booze_ (buysen: to drink), _bloke_ (blok?: man); in _Latin_: _max_ (maximum?: gin), _panum_ or _panam_ (old cant for _bread_), _nincom_ or _ninny_ (non compos mentis: simpleton), _quid_ (sovereign); in _Hebrew_: _shickster_ (girl; Hebr. chackets?), _schofel_ (name for a hansom-cab), etc.[5].

Especially during the last decades, America has strongly influenced the development of the English language. _Americanisms_ are to be found in great number both in colloquial English, and also in slang and cant.

The _grammar_, as well as the _phonology_, of _cant_ differs in many respects from that of the literary language.

Analogy plays an important rôle, and the anomalisms and divergencies are often of the same nature as those found in the language of children. The inflection is, accordingly, very much simplified, but, on the other hand, vulgar language has preserved several old forms which do not exist in the speech of the cultivated.

The best way to study Cant and Slang is, of course, to listen to the speaking individual himself. But, for several reasons, this must, as a rule, be left to natural-born Englishmen. Another way is to study literature, especially the English and American humorists.

Whoever has tried to make himself at home in this special branch of English literature has undoubtedly had some reason to complain of the insufficiency of the philological aids within his reach. He will often search in vain for the information he wants in the most detailed grammars; the dictionaries of slang and cant may stand him in good stead, but they are all insufficient, and they do not always agree with one another; in particular, their classification is very inconsistent and often erroneous. On the whole, it may be truly stated that this important part of the English language is, as yet, but imperfectly investigated.

A GRAMMATICAL SURVEY

I. A Few Phonetic Notes.

As regards phonetics, Jerome’s language shows us the usual characteristic alterations and abbreviations of vulgar speech.

The uncultivated individual instantly and invariably unmasks himself by dropping his »_h_’s», however he may struggle to avoid it. On the other hand, an _h_ not existing in ordinary pronunciation, is sometimes heard _before a vowel_, especially in _pathetic_ speech.

_Heven_ money on the Purple _Hemperor_! (Three Men On The
Bummel, 74. 10.)

The lean girl said she had »erd on me». The fat girl remarked
genteelly that she too had »heard _h_of me». with _emphasis_
upon the »hof». (P. Kelver II. 68. 6.)

A man’s wife orter be to ’im a gawdess, a _h_angel, a — —.
(Novel Notes 212. 31.)

Mar is quite _h_anxious to see you. (P. Kelver II. 64. 30.)

Thank you, I don’t _h_eat cocoanuts that have been shied at by
anybody. (P. Kelver II. 64. 16.)

Another characteristic of non-culture, often ridiculed in comic papers, is the pronunciation of _u_:

_dooty_ instead of duty. (Novel Notes 52. 10.)
_amatoor_ » » amateur. (Tea Table Talk 163. 9.)
_dook_ » » duke. ( » » » 136. 18.)
_menoo_ » » menu. ( » » » 126. 12.)
_soot_ » » suit. (Tommy and Co. 38. 26.)
_literatoor_ » » literature. (T. T. T. 158. 22.)
Etc.

An _r_, consisting of a scarcely perceptible vibration of the tip of the tongue (named _vanish-r_ by ELLIS), is often heard in words and combinations where it does not exist in ordinary pronunciation. In some cases, it seems to be used to avoid a hiatus, in others, it is evidently the effect of an exaggerated palatal pronunciation of the vowel.

_droaring-room_: drawing-room (P. Kelver II. 65. 30.)
_oughter ave_: ought to have (Sketches 195. 12.)
_arter_: after (Novel Notes 205. 7.)
_arf_: half ( » » 204. 4.)
_arst_: asked ( » » 212. 6.)
_follered_: followed ( » » 213. 5.)
_carn’t_: can’t ( » » 204. 3.)

A long vowel is often abbreviated: _weskit_ for ‘waistcoat’, _gal_, _gel_ for ‘girl’, _dunno_ for ‘don’t know’, _agin_ for ‘again’, etc.; while, on the other hand, a short vowel (esp. o) is sometimes lengthened: _dawg_ for ‘dog’, _gawd_ for ‘god’ (Novel Notes 212).

(The same pron. of short _o_ exists in the Essex dialect.)

In vulgar London speech, _w_ is sometimes heard instead of _v_. Jerome’s language offers, however, but one sample: _wiolets_ (T. T. T. 137. 5.)

(The pronunciation of _w_ as _v_, Veller for Weller, etc. is said to be extinct in modern vulgar English.)

The _g_ in words ending with _-ing_, esp. the _present participle_, is mostly _mute_ in vulgar pronunciation.

_bloomin’_ (Novel Notes 203. 9).
_mornin’_ ( » » 204. 20).
_sendin’_ } (P. Kelver 65. 19).
_thinkin’_ }
_cracklin’_ ( » » II. 71. 4).
_sellin’_ ( » » II. 58. 9).
Etc.

This pronunciation of the participle is, however, rather an _archaism_. _Sendin’_. etc., is the ancient, dialectic pronunciation, and is not exclusively characteristic of vulgar language. Our author tells us that it has been—and is perhaps at present—_the fashion_ among certain circles of the capital: «He suppressed a yawn, and replied, _‘Mornin’_ dropping the g. The custom was just coming into _fashion_; he was always correct». (Sketches 51. 9.)

_Blasé Billy._

Other anomalisms are: _sich_ for such, _hisself_ for himself, _forarther_ for further (T. T. T. 247. 12), _allus_ for always, _mar_ for mother (P. Kelver II. 64. 30), _oss_ for horse (Sketches 195. 20).

II. Accidence.

Anomalisms in the Conjugation of the Verbs.

The effect of analogy is obvious in the following examples.

I suggests (T. T. T. 159).
I answers ( » 170).
They sits ( » 125).
I comes ( » 126).
You comes ( » 125).
I says ( » 133).
I asks ( » 143).
I likes (Sketches 194).
I thinks ( » 201).
I does (Sketches 194).
She don’t ( » 194).
’E don’t ( » 199).
Things as gets lost (T. T. T. 195).
They wasn’t ( » 136).
There’s no wages ( » 228).
It don’t ( » 251).
One don’t ( » 218).
It aren’t (Novel Notes 163).

_Past._

I see = I saw (T. T. T. 197).
» » (Three Men In A Boat 81).

(The common anomalous form _I seed_ is not to be found in Jerome.)

I give = I gave (Sketches 201).
I gived = » (Novel Notes 155).
I win = I won (Tommy And Co. 99).
I comed = I came (Woodb. Farm 56).

_Perfect Participle._

Took = taken (T. T. T. 197 + 201 + 140).
writ = written ( » 158).

_Present Participle._

The Present Participles preceded by a pleonastic _-a_ are very numerous.

a-coming (T. T. T. 133).
a-pecking ( » 141).
a-siffing ( » » ).
a-going (Sketches 196).
a-collecting ( » 200).
a-blowing (Three Men On The Bummel 18). Etc., etc.

_To Be._

_It wur_ instead of _it was_ is _dialectic_ or _vulgar_. The samples I have found in Jerome (Three Men in a Boat 221, Woodb. Farm 8 + 10 + 56) are obviously all dialectic.

The uncommon form _warn’t_ instead of _wasn’t_ occurs in Woodb. Farm (p. 8, 1), but is evidently also dialectic.

Of the common anomalous form _they’s_ instead of _they are_ there is no example in Jerome.

_To Have._

_Have not_ and _has not_ are regularly transformed into _ain’t_.

I _ain’t_ got a bloomin’ sixpence on me. (Sketches 128. 12.)

_’E ain’t_ never been his old self since then. (Sketches 201.
3.) Etc.

(_Ain’t_ = am not, are not, is not, is _colloquial_.)

_Pronouns._

The abbreviated form _’em_ (for _them_, Middle-Engl. _hem_) is very common in Jerome, as in ordinary easy conversation among all classes.

The ordinary confusion of _I_ and _me_ appears in a few instances.

Just as you or _me_ would swear at the missus. (T. T. T. 128.
17.)

In another twenty minutes _me_ and young M. were in the
carriage. (T. T. T. 195. 7.)

_Me_ instead of _myself_ is _archaic_, but occurs in vulgar language also.

It is no use fixing _me_ down to any quiet calling. (T. T. T.
172. 12.)

_Uncultivated young man._

_You_ is very often corrupted into _yer_ or _ye_.

I do the tips, _yer_ know. (T. T. T. 131. 20.)

Any man could look at _ye_ and hate _ye_. (P. Kelver 32. 11.)
Etc.

_Them_ is sometimes confused with _those_:

She fetched ’im round to one of _them_ revivalist chaps.
(Sketches 201. 2.)

_A waiter._

I wouldn’t ’ave ’em know as ’ow I was one o’ _them_ college
blokes. (Novel Notes 203. 90.)

_Uncultivated young man._

With _them_ little hands. (Woodb. Farm 19. 20.)

_A farmer._

Enclitic _here_ (always written _’ere_: _this ’ere_, _that ’ere_, etc.) is very common. Of enclitic _there_ I have found no example in Jerome.

The assimilation of _m_ in himself (hisself) is regular.

_Nouns._

The vulgar tongue has a strong liking for _diminutive forms_ ending in _-y_, _-ey_. I have found in Jerome the following instances.

_matey_ (dim. of mate): term of address.
_cockey_ ( » » cock) » » »
_sonny_ ( » » son) » » »
_baccy_ (dim. of tobacco > bacco).
_ninny_ ( » » nincompoop); non compos mentis = simpleton.

Cf. _milky_ = milkman; _dusty_ = dustman; _bricky_ = bricklayer; _posty_ = postman (Baumann).

Sometimes, the tendency to form words ending in _-y_ seems to extend also to _the Participle_.

_humpy_ (humped?) = dull, miserable (T. T. T. 156. 20).
_dotty_ (dotted?) = dizzy, idiotic (Tommy And Co. 61. 28).

(Cf. _dreaming_ > _dreamy_; _chatting_ > _chatty_, etc.)

An instance of _double-possessive_ appears in Sketches p. 201. 8.

They told him as ’ow it was _folks’s_ own fault that they were
poor.

(Cf. Swed. »_hanses_ rock», etc.)

III. Syntactical Remarks.

Constructions with _To be_ and _the Present Participle_ are used colloquially, with the intention of vividness, in many cases where there is no particular reason to stress the fact that a thought is just a going on, a tendency especially characteristic of the Celtic-speaking Englishman. The uneducated vulgus have a strong predilection for these constructions and overdo them, as in the following examples, where there is not any reason at all for using them:

I’d ’ave ’ad to wait a long time, _I’m thinking_, if I ’adn’t
come across this one ’ere. (T. T. T. 148. 18.)

_Uncultivated Londoner._

You don’t see many fish that size about here now, _I’m
thinking_. (Three Men In A Boat 221. 24.)

_A farmer._

_I am hoping_ it will be some sensible, pleasant woman. (Tommy
And Co. 164. 12.)

_A London gentleman with a strong liking for
vulgarism._

Adjectives, adverbs, and other words are often accompanied by a pleonastic _-like_.

I stands respectful-like (T. T. T. 141. 9.)
I see him sitting up like (P. Kelver II. 236. 28.)
I was talking sarcastic-like ( » 250. 14.)
... he answers sulky-like (T. T. T. 157. 7.)
... says she, after considering-like (T. T. T. 127. 2.)
more cheerful-like (Sketches 201. 22.)
They met accidental-like (T. T. T. 144. 4.)
«Pity», she says, musing-like (T. T. T. 143. 3.)
Etc. Etc.

(_Such-like_ is quite normal. In fact, when the word is not attributive, »such» would now be colloquial, e.g. »thieves and such» for »such-like», »the like».)

_Adverbs_ are often substituted for _adjectives_.

It was _awful_ gloomy before. (Three Men In A Boat 63. 30.)

Not a _particular_ nice class as you meet there. (Tommy And Co.
17. 1.)

_Uncultivated Londoner._

She’d come in _regular_ with her young man. (T. T. T. 130. 3.)

_A waiter._

I snapped him up _shortish_. (T. T. T. 196. 2.)

_The same._

I’m _fair_ sick of ’er. (Novel Notes 212. 12.)

_Uncultivated young man._

He _fair_ settled ’im. (Sketches 201. 2.)

_Uncultivated old woman._

They met _accidental_-like. (T. T. T. 144. 4.)

_A waiter._

This tendency extends, however, to the colloquial language of the cultivated. »_Precious_», for instance, is almost regularly substituted for _very_ by many persons of some education.

(The inverse construction—_adverb_ instead of _adjective_—may be heard now and then: the child looked very _nicely_, etc.)

_Adjectives turned into a Plural Noun to express a State of Mind._

I used to get the fair _dismals_ watching it. (T. T. T. 129.
21.)

_A Waiter._

It gave me the _blues_ for a day or two—that bit of news. (T.
T. T. 146. 20.)

_The same._

_As_ stands very often for _Relative Pronouns_ without a preceding _such_.

It’s the world _as_ I’m complaining of. (T. T. T. 157. 12.)

The sort _as_ likes it and the sort _as_ don’t. (T. T. T. 205.
5.)

’E don’t cotton much to them _as_ ain’t found grace. (Sketches
199. 28.) Etc. Etc.

Nearly as often, _as_ or _as how_ is substituted for subordinate _that_.

I don’t think _as_ I can. (T. T. T. 127. 2.)

They shan’t say _as_ I have disgraced them. (T. T. T. 145. 8.)

They told him _as ’ow_ it was folks’s own fault that they was
poor. (Sketches 201. 8.)

The papers always said _as how_ she was charming. (T. T. T.
137. 14.)

It was evidently his turn to think _as how_ I was mad. (T. T.
T. 188. 25.)

Constructions with _so_ ... _that_ are contracted in the following manner.

She was _that_ clean you might have eaten your dinner out of
her hand. (T. T. T. 133. 16.)

_A waiter._

I wur _that_ taken aback I couldn’t tell ’ee what it wur.
(Woodb. Farm 56. 35.)

_A farmer._

Double _Negative Particle_ is rather common—as in German and other languages also.

She don’t get no better. (Sketches 194. 10.)

’E ain’t never been his old self since then. (Sketches 201. 3.)

I ain’t no bloomin’ Smythe. (Novel Notes 203. 7.) Etc.

The ordinary confusion of _on_ and _of_ occurs in one instance, admirably illustrating the difficulties the uneducated meet with as often as they try to disguise the fatal dropping of the _h_’s:

The lean girl said she had »erd on me». The fat girl, seizing
the chance afforded her, remarked genteelly that she too had
»heard hof me», with emphasis upon the »hof». (P. Kelver 68. 6.)

The following sequence of words—with _stress upon the pronoun_—is in high favour with the uncultivated Englishman (Cf. Swed. sa _han_, sa _jag_. etc.):

»What’s the good of Africa?» _replies he_. (T. T. T. 159. 18.)

»Australia!» _retorts he_; »what would I do there?» (T. T. T.
159. 10.)

»A man like that deserves what he gets,» _answers he_. (T. T.
T. 169. 9.)

»She was a bit of a fool herself,» _adds she_. (T. T. T. 258.
7.)

»There’s no wages attached», _continues she_. (T. T. T. 228.
14.)

»Go for a soldier», _says I_. (T. T. T. 160. 12.)

SLANG

Avast!

»_Avast!_» (Stage-Land 82. 8.)

_A sailor._

_Sailor slang_ = _Hold! Stop!_

The term is much used by landlubbers who desire to get local colour cheap.

Little-go

»Perhaps you’d get through your _Little-go_ in the course of the next few years.» (They And I. 7. 21.)

_Conversation between a young lady and her brother, who is a
student._

At _Cambridge_, _Little-go_ is the common name for the public examination which candidates for an »ordinary degree» have to pass in the second year of residence.

Cf. _Great-go_: the final examination for the B. A.

nurse

»I had been ‘_nursing_’ her, as we say in the political world, for years.» (The Prude’s Progress 67. 20.)

_A young author._

_Political slang_: used of a candidate for Parliament who seeks to ingratiate himself with the electors by paying them attentions and giving them things they like with a view to securing their votes when the election takes place. Here used of trying to prepare a young lady’s mind to accept a proposal of marriage when the moment comes to make it.

pater, mater

»I say to myself I’ll do a thing, but _the mater_ talks and talks, and——.» (Sketches 41. 12.)

_A young gentleman._

»I promised _the Mater_ I would, and I did.» (Sketches 80. 30.)

_The same._

»_The Mater_ gave me half-a-crown a week for pocket-money.» (Sketches 81. 9.)

_The same._

»_The pater_ came to the conclusion that it was time he laid down a dog.» (Novel Notes 48. 18.)

_The same._

The commonest familiar names for the parents on the lips of the average public schoolboy.

plough

«You have been _ploughed_ then?» (Prude’s Progress).

_Schoolboy slang_ for _to be rejected in an examination_.

Cf. the synonymous _to be plucked_ and _to be spun_.

ratty

»Against one such [a portraiture to the living original], evidently an attempt to help Dick see himself in his true colours, I find this marginal note in pencil: ‘Better not’. _Might make him ratty._» (They And I. 258. 1.)

_A schoolgirl._

The expression is, I think, _schoolboy slang_ for _waxy_, _annoyed_.

(Cf. Swed. «gnafven».)

shoot

»They’re all of ’em in the parlour, the whole blooming _shoot_.» (P. Kelver II. 66. 2.)

_Uneducated young man._

_Carters’ slang_ for _mob_, _medley_, _rabble_, _miscellaneous horde_. The exact meaning is probably: the whole mass of them as «_shot_» in one indiscriminate «_shoot_» from a tipping-cart or waggon into a place marked «Rubbish may be shot here» (afstjälpningsplats).

(Cf. Swed.: «hela skoffan».)

slack, swot

»To ‘_slack_’ in this term, with the full determination of ‘_swotting_’ in the next.» (Tommy And Co. 94. 14.)

_The author._

To _sweat_ or _swot_ is _schoolboy slang_ for _drudge_, _study hard_. _To slack_ means the contrary.

The term «_swot_» originated at the Royal Military College, Sandhurst, in the broad Scotch pronunciation of Dr. Wallace, one of the Professors, of the word _sweat_.

Cf. »He used to despise _a swot_, as we used to call a lad with a taste for literature». (PERCY WHITE: Mr. Bailey-Martin. I.) »That’s the worst of clever little _swots_» (RUDYARD KIPLING, Stalky & Co.)

spin

»You have been ploughed then?»

»Oh, come, you mustn’t despair. You’ve only been »_spun_», as you fellows call it, for a few months.» (The Prude’s Progr. 52. 15. 35.)

_To be spun_: to be rejected in an examination = _to be plucked_ and _to be ploughed_.

BAUMANN and FARMER-HENLEY call it military slang (Royal Military Academy), but here it occurs during a conversation between two medical students and their civil friends.

swag

»His ‘_swag_’ generally consists of an overcoat and a pair of boots.» (Novel Notes 176. 15.)

_The author._

»A policeman found them afterwards, sitting on a doorstep, the ‘_swag_’ behind them in a carpet bag.» (Sketches 147. 22.)

_A gentleman._

_Thieves’ slang_ for _booty_, _stolen things_; not used outside thieves’ language—except, of course, as a conscious quotation.

SLANG > COLLOQUIAL ENGLISH

baccy

»Man works, as he thinks, for beer and _baccy_.» (T. T. T. 59. 20.)

_A »minor poet.» Conversation between ladies and gentlemen._

»You had to walk ten miles to get your _baccy_.» (Three Men In A Boat 8. 8.)

»He sent them out to buy his _baccy_,» (Novel Notes 80. 16.)

_A young gentleman._

_Baccy_ is a vulgar form of _tobacco_, more vulgar than _bacco_. The formation of the word, with a gradual weakening of the last, unaccented syllable, is characteristic of vulgar language: _baccoᵘ_ > _baccŏ_ (or _backer_) > baccy.

bally

»I call the whole thing _bally_ foolishness.» (Three Men In A Boat 14. 7.)

A comparatively recent coinage, it is said, of _The Sporting Times_ from the Irish _bally-hooly_.

The word is used in the same manner as _blooming_ and _bloody_, i. e. as a meaningless intensive expression. _Bloody_ is an adj. used on every possible occasion by Eng. workmen, but without meaning. Schoolboys and grown-up persons of the better classes use _bally_.

chip in

»She took ‘the liberty _of chipping in_’, to use her own expression.» (They And I. 226. 6.)

_An actress._

= _of joining in the conversation_.

_To chip in_ is _sport-slang_ (Cards) for »to put a chip (or counter) in the pool»; hence, by extension, to make a contribution to, or take part in, anything—e. g. a conversation or an enterprise.

coach

»The shy, backward boy I had _coached_ and bullied.» (Sketches 83. 10.)

_A cultivated man._

»For a fortnight past the O’Kelly had been _coaching_ me.» (P. Kelver II. 80. 7.)

_The same._

= _to prepare for an examination_.

Also: to train in physical acquirements, e. g. in (= _tutor_ or _traince_ in Standard English) cricket or rowing.

_A coach_: a person who trains another (but more disparaging); analogous terms are _crammer_, _feeder_, _grinder_.

The word is originally _schoolboy_ and _academical_ slang, but now in general use among all classes.

crib

»’Ow could ’e get a _crib_? no character, no references.» (P. Kelver II. 56. 12.)

_A young clerk._

= _situation, place_.

Originally _commercial slang_, like _berth_ in the same sense.

do

»He will only let us have them (the rooms) on the understanding that we ‘_do for_’ ourselves.» (P. Kelver II. 110. 26.)

_A gentleman._

= _to attend on_ (as landladies on lodgers). Probably _servants’ slang_.

jaw

»Go to hell with your snivelling _jaw_.» (Novel Notes 179. 10.)

_A convict._

_Schoolboy slang_ for _lengthy talk_—esp. in the nature of a reproof.

Cf. None of your jaw, you swab! (SMOLLETT, Roderick Random.) Shut up your jaw! = Hold your tongue!

land

»He killed three of them before Harris could _land_ him with the frying-pan.» (Three Men In A Boat 46. 22.)

»By-the-by, he _landed_ you pretty heavily, didn’t he?» (The Prude’s Progress. 16. 20.)

_A gentleman._

_To land, boxers’ slang = to hit, to beat._

mash

»One day he fell in love; or to put it in the words of Teddy Tidmarsh, who brought the news to us, ‘got _mashed on_ Gerty Lowell’.» (Sketches 55. 28.)

»It’s like ’aving an Alcock’s porous plaster _mashed on_ yer.» (Novel Notes 212. 15.)

_Uncultivated young man._

_To be mashed on_ and _to be spoony on_ are rather common expressions for _to be in love with_. (Cf. _to be nuts on_.)

According to _Leland_, the term _mashed_ originates from the Gipsy-word _mash_ = _masher-ava_: allure; according to others, it is a variation of _smash_[6]. (_Smite_, _smitten_ is used in the same sense.)

In the eighties, it came to England from America, where it was used especially among actors.

Cf. _mash_: sweetheart. _to mash_, _to be on the mash_: to flirt. _masher_: (1) a species of Don Juan, esp. among choristers and actresses; (2) a dandy and, as adj., smart.

The term is, I suppose, originally _actors’ slang_.

slippy

»You make her marry the Prince; and _be slippy about it_.» (They And I. 75. 14.)

_A schoolboy._

_Schoolboy slang_ for _be quick_:

(Cf. expressions as »the ship slipped through the water».)

spoon, spoony

»_spooning_ smutty-faced servant-gals across area railings.» (T. T. T. 157. 3.)

_Uneducated young man._

»_Spoony_ couples.» (T. T. T. 129. 24.)

_A waiter._

_To spoon_, originally _student-slang_ = _flirt_, _make love_. _Spoony_ = _enamoured_.

(A spoon, originally = a simpleton, esp. an absurd whole-hearted lover.)

stodgy

»I often feel sorry for you, having nobody but grown-up people to talk to.»—

»They do get a bit _stodgy_ after a certain age,» agreed the Babe. (Tommy And Co. 164. 16.)

_A young gentleman._

_Stodgy_, probably _schoolboy slang_, is something heavy, unappetizing, or difficult to digest, lying heavily on the stomach, literally or figuratively: e. g. ill-cooked potatoes, a man whose conversation is all facts and no wit, etc.

Cf. _stodge_: food, a heavy meal. _stodger_: a glutton.

tuck

»Waste not your substance upon tops and marbles, nor yet upon _tuck_ (Do ye still call it »tuck»?).» (P. Kelver I. 111. 6.)

_The author._

_Schoolboy slang_ for _pastry_, _sweetstuff_, and the like.

Cf. _tuck-shop_ = a pastrycook’s.

The term is also used as a generic for _edibles_ and _appetite._

twig

»Too terribly true. She’d _twig_ it.» (They And I. 258. 4.)

_A schoolgirl._

»It being a foggy night, nobody _twigged_ me.» (Tommy And Co. 42. 21.)

_A London brat._

_Schoolboy slang_ for _notice_.

Cf. »Glad you are not _twigged_, gen’lemen.» (F. W. FARRAR, Eric or Little By Little. III.)

_Twiggez-vous?_ = Do you see?

VULGARISM OR CANT

buck up

»What he wants is _bucking up_; somebody to say to him, ‘Bravo! why, this is splendid’.» (They And I. 239. 3.)

_The author._

_To buck up_ is _schoolboy slang_ (Winchester College) for _to be glad_, _pleased_, _to cheer up_.

The usual expression is: _Oh, buck up!_—a phrase which at Westminster School would have a different meaning, namely _exert yourself_; at Uppingham, _to be bucked_ is _to be tired_. (Farmer & Henley.)

bunk

»Don’t see anything for it, but for him _to do a bunk_.»—»Not a bad idea that, only where’s ’e to _bunk_ to?» (P. Kelver II. 56. 8.)

_A young clerk._

_To bunk_, probably originally _schoolboy slang_, means _to escape_, _run away_, _take to flight_ (because of ‘funk’, or to avoid punishment).

_To do a bunk_: colloquial use of _do_ with a verb stem used as a noun = achieve, perform, the action denoted by the verb. Cf. _to do a drink_.

bloke

»This _bloke_ I have fallen on looks a bit sick.» (P. Kelver II. 237. 2.)

_A plumber._

»I wouldn’t have them know as ’ow I was one of them college _blokes_.» (Novel Notes 203. 23.)

_Uneducated young Londoner._

_Bloke_ (or _bloak_) is _London-cant_ for _man_, _fellow_. (Possibly, the word is derived from the Dutch _blok_, Germ. _Block_, though, if this is the case, it is difficult to account for the long vowel.)

blooming

»Not a _blooming_ shadow, assured me J.,» so far as she’s concerned. (P. Kelver II. 53. 16.)

_A young City clerk._

»I will drift into being a _blooming_ milkman.» (T. T. T. 157. 2.)

_Uneducated Londoner._

»I ain’t got a _blooming_ sixpence on me.» (Sketches 128. 11.)

_The same._

»Underneath my sneering phiz I’m a _blooming_ ’Arry.» (Novel Notes 204. 10.)

_The same._

»D’ye think I am a _bloomin’_ kid?» (Tommy And Co. 16. 20.)

_The same._

»She gives me the _blooming_ ’ump.» (Novel Notes 202. 25.)

_A workman._

»I ain’t no _blooming_ Smythe.» (Novel Notes 203. 8.)

_The same._

_Blooming_ (bloomin’) is a term in high favour among the ‘vulgus’.

It is a euphemism, similar to _blessed_, _blamed_, _blarmed_, etc., and is frequently used by the lower classes to emphasize words.

to blue

Mrs. D. »What have you done—_blued the lot_?»

Mr. D. »Belinda, your _vulgar_ expressions pain me.» (The Prude’s Progr. 37. 2.)

_To blue_ means here: to spend, to get rid of money quickly.

_Have you blued the lot?_ = have you spent all the money?

Cf. _to be blued_ = to be robbed.

boss-eyed

»You _boss-eyed_ old cow, you.» (Stage-Land. 58. 22.)

_Uneducated young man._

_Boss-eyed_ means _squint-eyed_ or _with one eye injured_. Here it is probably the former, the expression alluding to a woman.

The term may be connected with the schoolboy slang word »boss» as in »boss a shot» = make a bad shot—in which case it would refer to imperfection of the vision, rather than to obliquity in the position of the eye.

bullyrag

»They turn round and _bully-rag_ me for being argumentative.» (They And I. 164. 14.)

_A cultivated man._

»It ain’t no use my taking her now, I’ll only get _bullyragged_ for disturbing ’em.» (P. Kelver I. 242. 30.)

_Old woman of the working class._

_Bullyrag_ (or _Ballyrag_) = _to abuse_, _to scold vehemently_. (Swedish: skälla ut.)

clout

»I do not blame the dog (contenting myself with merely _clouting_ his head or throwing stones at him).» (Three Men In A Boat 162. 30.)

= _to strike_.

The word is originally a _provincialism_, but is used in vulgar language also.

cockey

»Yer won’t tell?—Say, ‘I swear’.»

»I swear-»

»Good-bye, _cockey_.» (P. Kelver I. 75. 30.)

_Dialogue between two »street Arabs»._

The term has probably nothing to do with _cock-eye_ (squinting eye), but is a vulgar mode of address and diminutive of _cock_ (cf. _sonny_, _matey_, _slavey_, _chummy_ etc.), as in »a fine old cock», where the word indicates a certain superiority.

cop, copper

»It’s only the fools as gets _copped_.» (T. T. T. 162. 15.)

_Uncultivated Londoner._

»I nearly got _copped_.» (Miss Hobbs 42. 18.)

_Easy conversation between gentlemen._

»I have seen her fling her petticoats about, when the _copper_ wasn’t by.» (T. T. T. 132. 16.)

_A waiter._

= _to seize_, _to catch_.

The word is probably originally _thieves’ cant_, and has here the sense of _arrest_.

A _cop_ or _copper_: a policeman.

The etymology of _cop_ is doubtful. It has been associated with the Gipsy _kap_ or _cop_ = to take, with the root of the Latin _cap-io_, and with the Hebrew _cop_ = a hand or palm. FARMER-HENLEY (Dict. of Slang and Coll. Engl.) observes that low-class Jews employ the term, and understand it to refer to the act of snatching.

cove

»I’m not cut for a respectable _cove_.» (T. T. T. 161. 20.)

_Uneducated young man._

»Her master seems to have been an odd sort of a _cove_.» (T. T. T. 172. 20.)

_A waiter._

»This _cove_ looks young.» (The Passing 12. 12.)

_A constable._

_Cove_ (also _covey_, _cofe_, _cuffing_, and, in the feminine, _covess_) is a common vulgarism for _man_, _person_. The term is no doubt derived from the old Gipsy word _cova_ = man.

It is, I should think, not quite as vulgar as the synonymous _bloke_.

curse

Neither child appeared to _care a curse_ for anybody. (T. T. T. 182. 11.)

_A waiter._

_I don’t care a curse_ = I don’t care in the slightest degree. (Ich frage keinen Pfifferling danach; Je m’en fiche comme d’une guigne.)

The equivalent _I don’t care a hang_ is rather colloquial.

_Some euphemisms for_ damn, damned

»Why, _bless_ us, where’s your eyes.» (Three Men In A Boat 171. 13.)

_A lockkeeper._

»What’s the difference _blessed if_ I can see.» (Three Men In A Boat 201. 5.)

_An old woman of the lower classes._

»Though I’d been sitting in the shop the whole _blessed_ time.» (Tommy And Co. 55. 20.)

_The same._

»An afternoon! _Bless_ the man, I want them for a month.» (The Prude’s Progress 19. 6.)

_A jovial ex-actress._

»_Blowed_ if I don’t think they’ll be a chirpier lot in t’other place.» (Sketches 201. 25.)

_Uncultivated Londoner._

»_Blow_ me if it ain’t me as ’as been cheated out of the fourpence.» (Sketches 128. 6.)

_An omnibus conductor._

»_Blow me tight_ if ’ere ain’t a gentleman been looking for Wallingford lock.» (Three Men In A Boat 115. 4.)

_A provincial »Arry»._

»_Blimy_ if I don’t believe ’e’s taking ’ome ’is washing up his back.» (The Passing 10. 11.)

_Uncultivated young woman._

»Oh, _drat_ the man!» (Three Men In A Boat 233. 28.)

_A young lady._

»_Drat_ the boy!» (The Prude’s Progress 48. 4.)

_An elderly lady._

»I don’t see the _darned_ good of this part of the trick.» (Woodb. Farm 24. 30.)

_Young peasant girl._

»I always see his face when I look on the _darned_ things.» (Woodb. Farm 25. 38.)

_The same._

»The _blarmed_ tent is not up yet.» (Three Men In A Boat 19. 15.)

»That _blasted_ dog of yours.» (Novel Notes 52. 15.)

_A burglar._

»No, _dash it_, I can’t think of that line.» (Three Men In A Boat 92. 16.)

»_Danged_ if I see so much fun in it.» (Woodb. Farm. 57. 40.)

_Young peasant._

»The dog ought to know a _durned_ sight more about them.» (Novel Notes 152. 26.)

_A sailor._

All these expressions are, of course, vulgar, but not equally so.

_Darn_ and, to a less extent, _bless_ are euphemisms in common use in polite circles. _Blow_ is a little coarser, but still usable by a lady in quite private life. _Blast_ (Cockney _brast_) is a distinctly profane word, generally implying ill-temper. _Drat_ is the usual word in the language of the domestic servant. _Blime_ or _blimey_ (= blind me!) as well as _blarmed_ (probably a corruption of _blamed_) is distinctly vulgar. _Dang_ (esp. dang it!) is a mild form of _damn_; might be used even by a clergyman.

the dismals

»I used to get _the fair dismals_ watching it.» (T. T. T. 129. 21.)

_A waiter._

= _to feel wretched, dejected._

The phrase is doubly vulgar: »fair» to express »complete», as in »a fair (regular) swindle», »a fair old brute», »a fair knock out» (a fair fight); »dismals»—adjective turned into a plural noun to express a state of mind.

Cf. _rheumatics_ (rheumatism); _to have (to get) the blues_ = to feel melancholy.

doorstep

»_Slices of bread and butter_—»_doorsteps_», as we used to call them.» (T. T. T. 126. 14.)

_A waiter._

»_Door-steps_» at two a penny.» (Sketches 55. 5.)

_The author._

= _a thick slice of bread and butter._

fair

»I thought it only right to give it (the bicycle) a fair trial.»—»You gave your family a _fair trial_ also; if you will allow me the use of _slang_.» (Three Men On The Bummel. 47. 10.)

_A cultivated young man._

= _regular_, _real_, _thorough-going_.

Cf. a fair swindle, a fair old brute, a fair devil, etc.

fake

A ’alf-brother, who’s always got to be spry with some _fake_ about ’is lineage. (T. T. T. 138. 22.)

_Uneducated Londoner._

»I ain’t the talent for the Don Juan _fake_.» (T. T. T. 143. 13.)

_The same._

_Fake_ (originally thieves’ cant?) is a proceeding or an affair of any kind irrespective of morals or legality. In America: _a swindler_. As verb: to do anything, to fabricate, cheat, steal, forge, etc.—a general verb-of-all-work. _To fake up_: to paint one’s face, make up a character.

The etymology is very doubtful. Some authors have associated the word with _feage_ (whiff away), derived perhaps from the German _fegen_. This seems, however, to be rather a questionable construction.

fizzing

»Go to your lamented master, the _fizzing_ count.» (Woodb. Farm 55. 9.)

_A young farmer._

= _excellent_, _ripping_, _crack_.

fly

»I did help a chap to sell papers once: he said I was _fly_ at it.» (Tommy And Co. 36. 22.)

_A London brat of the working class._

»I don’t take ’er on while I’m myself. I’m too jolly _fly_.» (Novel Notes 212. 20.)

_Uneducated young man._

= _knowing_, _cute_.

(Cf. DICKENS, _Bleak House_: »Do what I want, and I will pay you well»—»I’m _fly_».)

In the 16th and 17th centuries it was held that familiar spirits, in the guise of flies, fleas, etc., attended on witches, who for a price professed to dispose of the Power for evil thus imparted. Thence a _fly_ meant _a familiar_ (spiritus familiaris). That is, I presume, the origin of the above expression.

funk

»I’m in _a blue funk_ that one of these days she will oversleep herself.» (They And I. 194. 6.)

_A student._

= _to be anxious, nervous about something_.

(_funk_: a state of fear; generally with an intensifying word, e. g. a bloody, mortal, or blue funk.)

Garn

»_Garn!_ They’d run out of ’eads when they was making you.» (P. Kelver I. 93. 9.)

_A London gutter child._

_Garn_, a corruption of _go on_, is vulgar London language. It is used in the same way as the French _Va! Allez!_

governor

A man, slouching under the trees, paused as I overtook him.

»You couldn’t oblige me with a light, could you, _guv’nor_?» he said. (Novel Notes 110. 16.)

_Governor_ stands here as a vulgar mode of address, quite corresponding to the French _bourgeois_. In Swedish we should say simply: _han_ or _Herrn_.

In the sense of _father_ or _master_, _employer_ (The governor: »gubben»), the word is now in everyday colloquial use.

grub

»You give me my _grub_ and a shake-down, and I’ll grumble less than’ most of ’em». (Tommy and Co. 15. 15.)

_Uneducated Young man._

One of the commonest of the numerous vulgar paraphrases of _food_ (Farmer-Henley’s Dict. of Slang and Coll. Engl. mentions about a score of them.)

to lam

»The Lord will help us. Hold him fast, and—_Lam into him_». (Novel Notes 163. 9.)

_A tract-distributor._

»She _lammed in tracts at him_ full of the most awful language». (Sketches 200. 25.)

_Old woman of the working class._

_Lamb_ (vulgarized: _lam_) is sometimes ironically used to indicate a rough, cruel, or merciless person, and thence specifically applied to bludgeon men at elections. To this word we must refer, I suppose, the vulgar verb _to lamb_ or _to lam_ = to beat, to strike frequently. (Figurally or literally.)

The sense of the two above expressions is:

(1) _go at him_ (figurally);

(2) _she aimed mental blows at him by means of tracts._

let on

»Don’t _let on_ to any of the chaps that I am a member of that blessed waxwork show». (Novel Notes 203. 20.)

_Uncultivated young man._

_Let on_: vulgar for _confess_, _inform_, _reveal the secret_.

matey

»You must have forgot yourself, _matey_.» (Sketches 193. 20.)

_A workman._

A vulgar diminutive form of _mate_.

mug

»Do you take me for a _mug_?» (Tommy And Co. 46. 20.)

_A London brat of the working class._

He »took to» me, he said, because I was »so jolly green»—»such a rummy little _mug_.»

_A schoolboy._

»Are you the rich _mug_ Vane’s been representing you to be?» (P. Kelver II. 224. 28.)

_An actress._

»Keep your _mug_ shut about Oxford.» (Novel Notes 203. 26.)

_Uncultivated young man._

_Mug_ in the first three quotations is a _vulgarism_ and means _simpleton_, _greenhorn_; in the last, it is another word (_thieves’ cant_) for _mouth_ or _face_.

nab

»The chap who _was nabbed_ at B. last week.» (T. T. T. 163. 7.)

_A waiter._

= _caught_, _arrested_.

Originally _thieves’ cant_. Cf. the Swed. _nappa_: to grasp.

nob

»The _nobs_ should be made to acknowledge it»! (P. Kelver II. 259 7.)

_A businessman, former Whitechapel butcher._

_Nob_, abbreviation of _nobility_, as _mob_ of _mobility_, stands on the same level as _toff_, both of them meaning _person of distinction_.

office

»I give her _the office_ the next time I see her.» (T. T. T. 144. 3.)

_A waiter._

= _the hint_, _the signal_.

_To give_ or _tip the office_: to give a hint, a private information.

_To take the office_ is to understand and profit by the hint given.

peg out

»The little beggar, at the end of the time mentioned, ‘pegged out’, to use Jimmy’s word». (Novel Notes 85. 25.)

_Young Londoner of the working class._

= _to die_.

Vulgar synonyms: _to hop off_, _to hop the twig_, _to kick the bucket_.

phiz

»Underneath my sneering _phiz_ I’m a blooming ’Arry.» (Novel Notes 204. 4.)

_Uneducated Londoner._

_Phiz_, probably an abbreviation of _physiognomy_, is a vulgarism for _face_, _countenance_.

put away

»You don’t often see anybody _put it away_ like that girl did.» (T. T. T. 126. 9.)

_An elderly waiter._

= _to dispose of by eating_.

Compare W. S. Gilbert, Bab Ballads:

»And when, as cads would say,
He had _put it_ all _away_.»

Cf. _stow away_.

to queer a pitch

»Business is business; and I ain’t going _to queer ’er pitch_ for ’er.» (T. T. T. 137. 7.)

_Uneducated young Londoner._

_To queer a pitch_ is to spoil a chance of business.

_Pitch_ (vulgar) is a place of sale or entertainment. »He had fixed his _pitch_ outside.» (T. T. T. 124. 10.) Germ. _Stand_, _Bude_.

Cf. _To queer_ = to spoil, to outwit.

_To queer the stifler_: to cheat the hangman; _to queer fate_: to get the better of the inevitable.

rocky

»She is a bit _rocky_.»—

»A bit rocky?»—

»_Upset_, ma’am, _excited_.» (Miss Hobbs 4. 8.)

_A servant._

In this sense the expression is vulgar, whereas, in the sense of _broken_ (by drink, illness, poverty, etc.) or _difficult_, _dubious_, it may be considered as verging towards colloquial.

(The term is, of course, derived from the verb _rock_.)

rorty

He entreated me to hold »Smith», the _rorty_ ’Arry, a secret from the acquaintance of »Smythe», the superior person. (Novel Notes 203. 26.)

_Young Londoner._

The phrase means: _he was an ’Arry out and out_.

_Rorty_ (or _Raughty_) = of the very best.

Cf. _rorty-toff_: an out and out swell; _rorty-dasher_: a fine fellow; _rorty-boys_: jolly chaps.

The etymology is doubtful; possibly a corruption of _right_ > _righty_?

savey

»When I comes into your shop to order refreshments, I’m boss. _Savey?_» (T. T. T. 126. 3.)

_Uneducated Londoner._

»Me out of it—everything’s simple. _Savey?_» (T. T. T. 54. 13.)

_The same._

»_Upon my sivvy_, blessed if I see ’ow to do it.» (P. Kelver II. 54. 13.)

_Young London clerk._

_Savey_ (_savvy_) is a common vulgarism for _knowing_, _knowledge_; as verb: _to know_, _to understand_.

_Do you savey?_ = Do you know, do you understand? _He had plenty of savey_ = of savoir faire, or savoir vivre.

»_Upon my sivvy_» stands probably for »upon my affy», a common vulgarized form of »upon my solemn affidavit» (upon my sworn testimony.)