Chapter II: Part 2

1760–61. Smollett, Sir L. Greaves, ch. viii. I believe as how ’tis
no horse, but a devil incarnate; and yet I’ve been worse mounted,
that I have—I’d like to have rid a horse that was foaled of an
acorn (i.e., he had nearly met with the fate of Absalom).

1827. Lytton, Pelham, ch. lxxxii. ‘The cove ... is as pretty a
Tyburn blossom as ever was brought up to ride a horse foaled by an
acorn.’

1839. Harrison Ainsworth, Jack Sheppard [1889], p. 8. Tom Sheppard
was always a close file, and would never tell whom he married. Of
this I’m certain, however, she was much too good for him.... As to
this little fellow ... he shall never mount a horse foaled by an
acorn, if I can help it.

Acquaintance. To scrape acquaintance, verb. phr. (common).—To make acquaintance. Probably from ‘bowing and scraping’ to a person, in order to curry favor.

1698. Farquhar, Love and a Bottle [ed. 1711], p. 5, Lucinda. Pray
good Cæsar, keep off your paws; no scraping acquaintance for
Heaven’s sake.

This phrase has a classical origin, an account of which from the pen of Dr. Doran, F.S.A., appears in the Gentleman’s Magazine [N.S. xxxix. 230] in an article on ‘The Masters of the Roman World during the Happiest Years of the Human Race.’

There is an anecdote connected with Hadrian and the custom of
bathing, from which is derived the proverbial saying of scraping an
acquaintance. The Emperor, entering a bath, saw an old soldier
scraping himself with a tile. He recognised the man as a former
comrade—his memory on such points never failed him—and, pitying his
condition that he had nothing better than a tile for a flesh-brush,
he ordered the veteran to be presented with a considerable sum of
money, and a costly set of bathing garments. Thereupon all the old
soldiers of the Imperial Army became as anxious to claim fellowship
with the Emperor as the Kirkpatricks of Great Britain and Ireland
are proudly eager to establish kinship with the Empress of the
French. As Hadrian entered the bath the day after that on which he
had rewarded his former comrade, he observed dozens of old soldiers
scraping themselves with tiles. He understood the intent, but
wittily evaded it. ‘Scrape one another, gentlemen,’ said he, ‘you
will not scrape acquaintance with me!’

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

Acreocracy, subs. (common).—The landed interest. Possibly of American coinage [of simulated Greek formation, from English acre + Greek κρατέω, to hold sway or to govern]. Compare with democracy, mobocracy, aristocracy, etc.

1878. Hallberger’s Illustrated Magazine, p. 622. The introduction
of a plutocracy among the aristocracy and the acreocracy though it
has tended somewhat to vulgarize our social institutions, etc.

Acres, subs. (theatrical).—A coward. From Bob Acres, in Sheridan’s Rivals [1775]; here the character part is of a blusterer, one who talks big, but when put to the push, to use his own words, ‘his courage always oozed out of his finger ends.’ Cf., Abigail for a waiting maid; Samson for a strong man; Job for a monument of patience, and others.

Across Lots. To go across lots, verb. phr.—To proceed by the shortest route; similarly to do anything in the most expeditious manner. The phrase had its rise in the natural tendency of settlers, in thinly-populated districts, to shorten the distance from point to point by leaving the road and striking across vacant lots. Brigham Young familiarized its idiomatic use in the now notoriously historic saying attributed to that ‘Saint,’—‘We’ll send them (the Gentiles) to hell across lots.’

1848. Lowell, Biglow Papers.

Past noontime they went trampin’ round
An’ nary thing to pop at found,
Till, fairly tired o’ their spree,
They leaned their guns agin a tree,
An’ jest ez they wuz settin’ down
To take their noonin’, Joe looked roun’
And see (acrost lots in a pond
That warn’t mor’n twenty rod beyond),
A goose that on the water sot
Ez ef awaitin’ to be shot.

1854. J. C. Neal, Charcoal Sketches, i., p. 35 [to a
grumbler]:—‘You would cut across the lot, like a streak of
lightning, if you had a chance.’

1887. Scribner’s Magazine. ‘I didn’t see Crossby go by, did you?’
‘He’d have had to foot it by the path cross-lots, replied Ezra,
gravely, from the doorstep.’

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

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

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

Act of Parliament, subs. (old).—A military term for small beer, five pints of which, by an Act of Parliament, a landlord was formerly obliged to give gratis to each soldier billetted upon him. For synonyms, see Cold blood.

Actual. The actual, subs. (popular).—Money, when spoken of collectively. The fact of the existence of innumerable synonyms for the ‘modern staff of life’ goes far to bear out the latter-day contention that it is not the ‘evil’ itself [‘money is the root of all evil’—Old Saw] but the lack of it that is to be deplored. The central idea enshrined in many of these terms will well repay comparative study, a vein of subtle, and sometimes grim humor and pathos running through not a few of them. This applies equally to English slang, and to the French, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese argots. Compare for example the English ‘feathers’ with the Spanish amigos (friends), the Italian agresto (sour grapes), and the French du foin (hay), or de l’os (bone), and obviously many a new side-light upon national habits and modes of thought may be obtained therefrom. The English and French, the two nations whose slang vocabularies are by far the most copious extant, have respectively upwards of 130 and 50 synonymous terms for money. The generic names are as follows:—

Eng. Synonyms. Ballast; beans; blunt (i.e., specie,—not soft, or rags, i.e., bank-notes); brads; brass; bustle; coal; coppers (copper money, or mixed pence); chink; chinkers; chips; corks; dibs; dimmock; dinarly; dirt; dooteroomus (or doot); dumps; dust; dye stuffs; feathers; family plate (silver); dollars; gent (silver,—from argent); gilt; haddock (a purse of money); hard stuff (or hard); horse nails; huckster; John; John Davis; loaver; lour (the oldest cant term for money); mopusses; muck; needful; nothings (money collected in a hat by street-performers); ochre (gold); oof; ooftish; pewter; palm oil; pieces; posh; queen’s pictures; quids; rags (bank-notes); ready; ready gilt; ready John; redge (gold); rhino; rowdy; shadscales (or scales); shot; shekels; sinews of war; shiners (sovereigns); shin plasters (or plasters); skin (a purse of money); Spanish; spondulics; stamps; stiff (cheques, or bills of acceptance); stuff; stumpy; tin (silver); tow; wad; wedge (silver); wherewith; and yellow-boys (sovereigns). In the 17th century money was often called ‘shells’—is this the origin of ‘to shell out’?—and ‘Oil of Angels’ (q.v.).

French Argot. De l’artiche (thieves’: retirer de l’artiche, is to pick the pockets of a drunkard); du morningue; du foin (lit. hay); du plâtre (thieves’: lit. plaster); du poussier (thieves’: lit. coal-dust; Cf., English ‘coal’ and ‘dust’); des soldats (thieves’: Falstaff, in Merry Wives of Windsor, ii., 2, says ‘money is a good soldier’); de la mornifle (this thieves’ term for money, whether good or counterfeit, originally signified false money only; there is a grim suggestiveness between the orthodox meaning of the word, ‘a slap on the face,’ and its slang signification); de la sauvette (also a basket used by rag-pickers and collectors of street refuse); de l’huile (lit. oil); du beurre (pop.: lit. butter); de la braise (pop.: ma braise is a term of endearment among the Lyonnais, and is equivalent to mon trésor, my treasure); du bath (thieves’: the tip-top; the excellent. From a superior kind of Bath note paper, which, in 1848, was hawked about the streets of Paris, and sold at a low price. Thus papier bath became synonymous with excellent paper. In a short time the qualifying term alone remained, and received a general application.—Argot and Slang); du graissage (pop.: lit. grease, Cf., ‘palm oil,’ and ‘greasing the palm’ in English slang); de la thune (thieves’: in old French cant the Roi de la Thune was the king of the beggars, and the old prison of Bicêtre, where free board and lodging was provided for many of the fraternity, was called La Thune. It is easy to see why the name of a place, where beggars congregated in considerable numbers and received relief, should pass into use to signify pecuniary alms); de la miche de profonde (pop. and thieves’: this exactly corresponds to the English ‘loaver’); de l’oignon pèse (pop.: lit. heavy onion. Cf., Fourbesque argume); du sable (pop.: lit. sand); des pimpions (thieves’: Qy., from pimpant, fine, spruce, smart); de l’os (familiar: lit. bone); du nerf (lit. sinew. Cf., English ‘sinews of war’); des pepettes (pop.: pepette, a coin of the value of fifty centimes); des achetoires (pop.: from acheter, to buy); de la galette (pop.: lit. sea biscuit); des picaillons (pop.: probably a corruption of picaron, a Spanish coin); de ce qui se pousse (pop.: that which pushes itself forward. Cf., English proverb, ‘It’s money makes the mare to go’); de quoi (pop.: the wherewithal. Cf., English ‘the needful,’ the ‘ready’), de l’oignon (pop.: lit. onion. Fourbesque has also argume, lit. in Italian, an onion); de l’oseille (pop.: lit. sorrel); de la douille (thieves’ and pop.: from a kind of large fig much esteemed in Paris); des jaunets (lit. buttercups. Cf., English ‘yellow-boys’); des sous (lit. pence); de la graisse (pop. and thieves’: lit. ‘grease.’ Cf., palm oil); de l’affare (a thieves’ term, probably from the argotic verb affurer, to cheat, steal, or deceive); du metal (lit. metal); du zinc (lit. zinc); du pèze (from the Italian pezzo, a piece; Spanish peso, a silver coin, weighing an ounce); du pedzale; des noyaux (popular); des sonnettes plombes (plomb = lead); des sonnettes (lit. bells. Cf., English ‘chinkers’); du quantum (from the Latin); du gras (lit. fat); de l’atout (lit. trumps in cards); de l’huile de main (lit. hand oil, the English ‘palm grease’); des patards (obsolete copper coins, value ¼d.; now applied particularly to a two-sous piece, and to money generally); de la vaisselle de poche (lit. pocket plate: vaisselle = gold and silver plate); du carme (from the game of Trictrac); de la pécune (lit. cash); des ronds (lit. circles; from the shape of coins); de la bille (from billon); du “sine quâ non” (from the Latin; meaning obvious); du sit nomen (from the Latin); quibus (an abbreviation of quibus fiunt omnia).

Italian Fourbesque. Agresto (lit. sour grapes); albume (lit. white of egg), argume (lit. onions); asta, asti (from Ital. asta, a staff); contramaglia (silver money); brunotti (lit. brownish); penne (lit. feathers); smilzi (from Ital. smilzi = menu); squame (lit. chips or scales).

Spanish Germania. Amigos (lit. friends); florin (here can be traced the Spanish connection with the Netherlands); sangre (lit. blood).

Portuguese Calão.—Parne.

German Synonyms (Gaunersprache).—See Gilt.

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

1854. Dickens, Household Words, xiii., 9. The really interesting
ads are in the body of the paper.

1888. New York Times, Ap. 6.

[The country editor’s wife—] ... reads the ads with the editor,
Just to find what each has paid.
‘But the column ad of the jeweller, there,’
So he says, ‘and the harness, and human hair,
Must be taken out in trade!’
She wears the corsets he gets for ads,
And rattles his sewing machine;
She uses the butter, and cups, and things,
The country subscriber so faithfully brings,
With a cheerfulness seldom seen.

Adam, subs. (old).—A sergeant or bailiff; a master man or foreman. Now used by thieves in the sense of an accomplice. Explained by commentators as a reference to the fact that the buff worn by a bailiff resembled the native buff worn by our first parent, or from his keeping the garden.

1598. Shakspeare, Comedy of Errors, iv., 3. Ant. S.... What Adam
dost thou mean? Dro. S. Not that Adam that kept the Paradise, but
that Adam that keeps the prison: he that goes into the calf-skin
that was killed for the prodigal.

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

Adam’s Ale, or sometimes simply Adam, and in Scotland Adam’s Wine.—A colloquialism of long standing for water, humorously suggesting that anything stronger was unknown to our first parents. Duncombe wittily adds a comment that our first father’s drink is best with brandy. This also would appear to be the view taken in most of the French and German equivalents.

Eng. Synonyms. Fish broth; aqua pompaginis.

French. Anisette de barbillon (a popular term); essence de parapluie (popular: lit. essence of umbrella); l’Adam’s ale (a literal translation of the English term); limonade (popular: a caustic comment surely upon the virtues of lemonade); lance (popular and thieves’: this term also does duty for ‘rain’; properly written l’ance, derived from the Spanish Germania ansia, itself an abbreviation of angustia, an allusion to the employment of water as a means of torture); sirop or ratafia de grenouilles (popular: lit. syrup of frogs); sirop de l’aiguière (popular: lit. pitcher syrup); sirop de baromètre (popular, barometer syrup).

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

Italian Fourbesque. Lenza (the remarks on French lance quoted above, apply equally here).

1643. Prynne, Sov. Power of Parl., II., 32. They have been shut up
in prisons and dungeons ... allowed onely a poore pittance of
Adam’s ale, and scarce a penny bread a day to support their lives.
[M.]

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

Old Adam’s beverage flows with pride,
From wide-mouth’d pitchers, in a plenteous tide.

1884. Daily Telegraph, April 1, p. 5, col. 2. The spectral banquet
graced now only by Adam’s ale, or the sick-room toast and water.

1886. John Coleman, Elfie, pt. I., ch. ii. For my part, I stuck to
Adam’s ale, which Elfie brought from the spring.

Adam Tiler, subs. (old slang).—A pickpocket’s associate; one who receives stolen goods, and then runs off with them. [From Adam, an accomplice + tiler, a watchman. Cf., Masonic term.] For synonyms, see Fence.

Added to the List (racing).—An abbreviation of ‘added to the list of geldings in training.’ Among French thieves, désatiller is the term employed to signify castration; or, where the operation is performed upon a man, abélardiser, i.e., to mutilate a man, as Chanoine Fulbert mutilated Abélard, the lover of his daughter or niece, Héloise.

Addition, subs. (old).—A term for various toilet requisites, used by women; such as paint, rouge, powder, etc.

1704. Centlivre, Platonick Love, Act iii., Scene 1. Milliner. Be
pleased to put on the addition madam. Mrs. Dowdy. What does she
mean now? to pull my skin off, mehap, next. Ha, Peeper, are these
your London fashions? Peeper. No, no, addition is only paint,
madam.

Addition, Division, and Silence! phr. (American).—A Philadelphia expression, which, for a time, had a vogue as a catch phrase. It is properly rendered multiplication, division, and silence! William M. Tweed, or as he is more familiarly known ‘Boss’ Tweed, is generally credited with this expression. Being asked what in his view was the proper qualification for a member of a ring or trust, in which all play into each other’s hands for mutual advantages, he replied multiplication, division, and silence!

Addle Cove, subs. (common).—A foolish man; an easy dupe; literally, a rank sucker (q.v.), and equivalent to addle-head, addle-pate, addle-plot, all of which are common dictionary words. Why Barrère and Hotten have followed the lead of Grose in classing these words as slang is hardly clear. Dialectical they may have been, but all English was similarly placed prior to the 15th century, and the first reference given by Murray, bears the date of A.D. 1250.

Adept, subs. (thieves’).—An expert amongst the light-fingered gentry. It is quite an open question whether adept, even in a thief’s sense, can fairly be classed as slang, the meaning being obviously identical with that commonly attached to the word.

Adjective Jerker, subs. phr. (literary).—A term of derision applied, like ink-slinger (q.v.), to those who write for the press. The special allusion in the present case is doubtless to the want of discrimination which young writers, and reporters on low-class papers, often exhibit in the use of a plethora of adjectives to qualify a simple statement of fact.

1888. St. Louis Globe Democrat, April 29. Genevieve spent four
hours last night in constructing a three-line letter, which she
sent to an adjective jerker on a society weekly, and in which she
said she would spend the summer months in the Rocky Mountains.

Adjutant’s Gig, subs. phr. (military).—The barrack roller. Men under punishment are generally put to the task of drawing this machine.

Admiral. To tap the Admiral, verb phr. (nautical).—A practice otherwise known as ‘sucking the monkey.’ Explained in Peter Simple as having originally been used amongst sailors for drinking rum out of cocoa nuts from which the milk had been extracted and replaced by spirits, an evasion of the regulation prohibiting the purchase of ardent liquors when on shore in the tropics. The Germans have an analogous expression Den affen saugen, to ‘suck the monkey,’ with the same signification.

Nowadays it is applied to drinking on the sly from a cask by inserting a straw through a gimlet hole, and to drinking generally.

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

What the vulgar call sucking the monkey,
Has much less effect on a man when he’s funky.

Admiral of the Blue, subs. phr. (old).—A publican or tapster; from the colour of his apron; now obsolete. Cf., Admiral of the red.

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

As soon as customers begin to stir,
The admiral of the blue, cries, ‘Coming, sir!’
Or if grown fat, the mate his place supplies;
And says, ’tis not my master’s time to rise.
Of all our trades, the tapster is the best,
He has more men at work than all the rest.

Admiral of the Narrow Seas, subs. phr. (nautical).—A man who, under drink, vomits into the lap of his neighbour or vis-à-vis.

Admiral of the Red, subs. phr. (popular).—A wine-bibber; one whose face by its redness bears evidence of a fondness for the bottle. Formerly the highest rank of naval officers was divided into three grades or classes denominated from the colours hoisted by them, Admirals of the Red, White, or Blue squadron. Now there are four grades; Admiral of the Fleet, Admiral, Vice-admiral, and Rear-admiral. The French call the bottle or copper-nose possessed by admirals of the red betterave (lit. a beetroot); also un piton passé à l’encaustique; and un piffard. Cf., Admiral of the blue.

Admiral of the White, subs. phr. (familiar).—Quoted as ‘a white-faced person; a coward; a woman in a faint.’ Rarely heard, and at best but an extremely weak imitation of kindred phrases, to wit, admiral of the blue, and admiral of the red.

Admirals of the Red, White, and Blue, subs. phr. (familiar).—Beadles; hall-porters; and such-like functionaries when sporting their gorgeous liveries of office.

Adonize, verb. (rare). [French adoniser; from adonis + ize].—To make beautiful or attractive; to adorn oneself with a view of attracting admiration; said only of men.

1818. S. E. Ferrier, Marriage, ch. ix. ‘Venus and the Graces, by
Jove!’ exclaimed Sir Sampson, bowing with an air of gallantry; ‘and
now I must go and adonize a little myself.’ The company then
separated to perform the important offices of the toilette.

1850. F. E. Smedley, Frank Fairleigh, ch. xl. ‘He positively
refused to face the ladies till he had changed his shooting
costume, so I left him up at the hall to adonize.’

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

1855. Thackeray, The Newcomes, p. 774. ‘At the usual evening hour
the chapel bell began to toll, and Thomas Newcome’s hands outside
the bed feebly beat time. And just as the last bell struck, a
peculiar sweet smile shone over his face and he lifted up his head
a little, and quickly said, ‘adsum,’ and fell back. It was the word
we used at school when names were called; and lo, he whose heart
was as that of a little child had answered to his name, and stood
in the presence of the Master.’

Adullamites, subs. (parliamentary).—A nickname, in the first instance, for a party of seceding Liberals, namely, Messrs. Horsman, Lowe, Earl Grosvenor, Lord Elcho, etc., who in 1866 voted with the Tories, when Earl Russell and Mr. Gladstone introduced a measure for the extension of the Franchise. In the debate on the 30th March John Bright said they had agreed to draw back into a political cave of adullam. The reference is to those who, with King David, took refuge in the cave of adullam (1 Sam. xxii., 1). The political party in question were also known collectively as ‘The Cave.’

1878–80. Justin McCarthy, History of Our Own Times, p. 142. The
little third party were at once christened the adullamites, and the
name still survives and is likely long to survive its old political
history. Ibid., p. 143. The wild cheers of the Conservatives and
the adullamites showed on which ‘sword sat laurel victory.’ Ibid.,
p. 152. [Lord Derby] had at once invited the leading members of the
adullamite party to accept places in his Administration.

The primary usage has been extended as explained in the following quotations.

1870. Notes and Queries, March 5, p. 241. The Scriptural ‘cave of
adullam’ has become an adopted byword for a small clique who unite
to obstruct the party with which they usually associate.

1884. New York Times, July 19. The Conservative party then
presented a tolerably solid front against the extension of the
franchise, and received besides a large reinforcement of
adullamites from the Liberal side.

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

1888. Chicago Inter-Ocean, Jan. 23. The advice given to his company
by a raw Yankee captain to advance backward, seems paralleled in
the Chicago Tribune of the 18th inst.

Advantage (Californian).—See Pocket advantage.

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

1870. Chambers’ Journal, June 18, p. 395. Dick laughed. ‘I’ll get
the receipt from him. I often want a good thing for an Æger.’

1888. H. Smart, in Temple Bar, February, p. 213. ‘Instead of
applying for leave to my tutor, I had resorted to the old device of
pricking Æger.’

Ægrotat, subs. (Univ.).—[L. he is sick, 3rd pers. sing. pres. ind. of ægrotare, to be sick from ægrotus, sick, from æger, sick]. In English universities a medical certificate given to a student, showing that he has been prevented by sickness from attending to his duties, or his examination; also used for the degree taken by those so excused. Also called Æger (q.v.).

1794. Gent. Mag., p. 1085. They [at Cambridge] sported an Ægrotat,
and they sported a new coat!

1864. Babbage, Passages from the Life of a Philosopher, 37. I sent
my servant to the apothecary for a thing called an Ægrotat, which I
understood ... meant a certificate that I was indisposed.

Reading ægrotat.—In some universities leave taken, commonly in December, in order to get time to read for one’s degree.

Affair of Honour, subs. (old).—Killing an innocent man in a duel. This euphemism was largely in vogue during the Regency days.

Affidavit Men, sub. phr. (old slang), or, as they also used to be called, Knights of the Post.—False witnesses who attended Westminster Hall and other Courts of Justice, ready to swear anything for hire; they were distinguished by having straws stuck in the heels of their shoes.—See Straw bail under Bail.

Affinity, subs. (American).—A cant term in frequent use amongst so-called free-lovers. One’s affinity is supposed to be a person of the opposite sex, for whom an attachment so strong is felt that even if already married, as more often than not is the case, the husband will abandon his legitimate wife, and vice versâ, in favour of the new attraction, or affinity as he or she is called. The argument is generally only an excuse for unbridled sexual license; indeed, it is inconceivable that it could be otherwise, except in a society of seraphs and archangels.

Afflicke, subs. (old).—See quotation.

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

Afflictions, subs. (drapers’).—Mourning goods, half-mourning being designated mitigated afflictions (q.v.).

Affygraphy, subs. (common).—‘It fits to an affygraphy,’ i.e., to a nicety—to a T; also of time—‘in an affygraphy.’

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

To have one’s back-teeth well afloat, is to be well-primed with liquor; in short, to be in one of the many degrees of intoxication.

1888. Missouri Republican, Jan. 25. When sober on the bench Judge
Noonan is a model of all the virtues. On Friday night, however, in
company with Dr. Munford, of Kansas City, ex-Speaker Wood, Mr.
Charles Mead, and several other gentlemen, his honor once more
drank until, as an onlooker put it, his back teeth were well
afloat.

A-Fly, adv. (vulgar).—See Fly.

Afterclap, subs. (American).—An attempt to unjustly extort more in a bargain or agreement than at first settled upon. [Derived from after + clap, a blow or shock.] Current in England since the beginning of the fifteenth century, signifying an unexpected subsequent event; something happening after an affair is supposed to be at an end.

After-Dinner Man; Afternoon’s Man.—Generally read to mean a tippler; one given to long potations after the mid-day meal, formerly the most substantial taken during the twenty-four hours. Smythe Palmer, however, appears to throw a different gloss upon the term, for he says [N. and Q., 5 S., viii., 112], Afternoones men—equivalent to after-dinner men. It was the custom, formerly, to dine in the halls of our Inns of Court about noon, and those who returned after dinner to work must have been much devoted to business, or obliged to work at unusual hours by an excess of it.—See quot. from Earle.

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

1621. Burton, Anat. Mel. Democr. to Reader (1657), 44. Bervaldus
will have drunkards, afternoon men, and such as more than
ordinarily delight in drink, to be mad.

1628. Earle, Microcosmography (A Player). Your Innes of Court men
were undone but for him, hee is their chiefe guest and employment,
and the sole businesse that makes them afternoones men.

1830. Dublin Sketch Book. The good Baronet (Sir Francis Burdett)
was not only a foxhunter, but a celebrated after-dinner man. It
must have been a good bout indeed in which he was worsted.

After Four, subs. phr. (Eton).—From 3 to 6 p.m. on half-holidays; 4 to 5 on whole schoolday.

Afternoon Farmer, subs. phr. (popular).—This expression for one who procrastinates, or who misses an opportunity is, in reality, a provincialism. It is quoted in more than one of the English Dialect Society’s Glossaries as a very common phrase for one who is always behind, i.e., late in preparing his land, in sowing or harvesting his crops. It is only slang when used figuratively apart from agricultural pursuits.

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

1861. Whyte Melville, Good for Nothing, p. 39. I used to visit him
regularly in the dear old college from the after twelve.

Against Collar. To work against collar, verb. phr. (popular).—To battle or cope with difficulties; ‘to kick against the pricks’; ‘to pull against the tide.’

1876. C. Hindley, Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack, p. 114. ‘It
is always thought to be a bad plan to let journeymen Cheap Johns
get into debt with their employers. It is bad in two ways, for if
they owe their governors a few pounds, they are working an uphill
game, or against collar, and that don’t suit their book, and it
destroys the independence which is, and always should be, between
the master and the man.’

Against the Grain, adv. phr. (popular).—Against the fibres of the wood; hence, in opposition to the wish; unwillingly; unpleasantly; reluctantly. ‘It went against the grain to do it, but I knew I must,’ is a common expression.

1673. Dryden, Amboyna, Act i. Seizing their factories I like well
enough, it has some savour in’t; but for this whoresome cutting of
throats, it goes a little against the grain.

1693. Dryden, Juvenal, i., 202. Though much against the grain
forc’d to retire.

1709. Steele, Tatler, No. 2. Nothing in nature is so ungrateful as
story-telling against the grain, therefore take it as the author
has given it you.

1868. Wilkie Collins, The Moonstone, 1st Period., ch. xi. As I had
promised for them, the other servants followed my lead, sorely
against the grain, of course, but all taking the view that I took.

1884. W. C. Russell, Jack’s Courtship, ch. xxiii. It went against
my grain to leave the poor chap alone.

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

Aggerawator, subs. (common); also Haggerawator, both forms being corruptions of ‘aggravator.’—A lock of hair brought down from the forehead, well greased, and then twisted in spiral form upon the temple, either toward the ear, or conversely toward the outer corner of the eye. This style of dressing the hair was formerly much affected by costermongers, male and female, and other street folk, but the ‘ornament’ is now rarely seen. It appears to be known among certain classes in France, especially prostitutes’ bullies.

Eng. Synonyms. Kiss-curls; cobbler’s knots; cow-licks; Newgate knockers (from a supposed resemblance to the knocker on the prisoner’s door at Newgate); number sixes; bellropes (being wherewith to draw the belles); bow-catchers; spit-curls; lovelocks, etc.

French Argot. Des guiches; des rouflaquettes (from being sported by prostitutes’ bullies), des accroche-cœeurs (lit. heart-hooks).

1836. Dickens, Sketches by Boz, p. 132. His hair carefully twisted
into the outer corner of each eye, till it formed a variety of that
description of semi-curls, usually known as ‘aggerawators.’

From the following they would appear at one time to have formed part of the personal adornment of women in Australia.

1859. Frank Fowler, Southern Lights and Shadows, p. 38. The ladies
are addicted to ... straw-coloured gloves, and strained hair,
embellished with two or three c’s—aggravators they call
them—running over the temple.

Agility, subs. (low).—A woman who, in mounting a stile, or, when being swung, exposes more of her person than is usually counted decent, is said to show her agility. The story told is an absurdly vulgar play upon words.

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

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

Agogare, intj. (American thieves’).—Be quick! a warning signal [from agog].—New York Slang Dictionary.

Agony. To pile up the agony. verbal phr. (popular).—To intensify a statement or relation by exaggerated or blood-curdling details. Newspapers pile on the agony when ‘writing up’ murder, divorce, and other sensations.

1857. C. Bronté, in Mrs. Gaskell’s Life, ch. xxv. What climax there
is does not come on till near the conclusion; and even then, I
doubt whether the regular novel-reader will consider the ‘agony
piled sufficiently high’ (as the Americans say), or the colours
dashed on to the canvas with the proper amount of daring.

1881. W. Black, Beautiful Wretch, ch. vi. ‘Sooner or later that
organ will shake the Cathedral to bits; the vibrations were
fearful. I thought there was a great deal too much noise. You lose
effect when you pile up the agony like that.’

Agony column, subs. phr. (popular).—The second column of the Times; originally so-called from the fact of its being devoted to advertisements for missing friends, and private communications, many of which are of a harrowing character. Most London newspapers, for the phrase is chiefly local, have now a similar column. Subjoined are a few examples of these advertisements:—

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

My darling, how often do I say from my heart come and let us reason
together that we may be happy here and live and love for ever. God
bless and spare us to meet again.

Satisfied.—Meet Friday outside Farringdon Street Station, Three
p.m. Have slip paper in coat button-hole.—J. T.

HERBERT WILLIAM BONNETT, who left Bristol on Thursday, Sept. 5, is REQUESTED to COMMUNICATE at once with his uncle at Keynsham. If any shipping agent is aware of his taking passage in any boat leaving England, either London, Liverpool, or elsewhere, please write at once to Mr. J. D. Coates, Keynsham, near Bristol. All expenses will be paid.

The earliest mention in Murray’s Dictionary is dated 1880, but from the following quotation it will be seen that the term has been in use for at least twenty years.

1870. L. Oliphant, Piccadilly, part II., p. 78. The advertisement
of the committee, which appeared in the agony column of the Times,
who wanted to know how I wished the money applied.

1881. W. Black, Beautiful Wretch, ch. xxiii. There were anonymous
appeals to the runaways in agony columns.

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

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

Ain’t, sometimes A’N’T, verb. phr. (vulgar).—A corruption for (1) ‘am not’; (2) ‘are not’; (3) ‘is not.’ This vulgarism appears to be of much older standing than set down in the New English Dictionary, where the earliest example is dated 1778.

1710. Swift, Journal to Stella, 24 Nov., Letter ix. I ain’t vexed
at this puppy business of the bishops, although I was a little at
first.

1800. Coleridge, Piccolomini, II., xiii. Ter. Where’s the hurry?
Come, one other composing draught.... Goetz. Excuse me—ain’t able.
Ter. A thimble-full! Goetz. Excuse me.

1835. Dickens, Sketches by Boz, p. 275. ‘You are a clever fellow,
Tottle, ain’t you?’

Air and Exercise, subs. phr. (old).—To have had air and exercise, signified that one had undergone a whipping at the cart’s tail. About the beginning of the present century the same operation was termed shoving the tumbler (q.v.). Among thieves at the present time, air and exercise means penal servitude; in America it is only applied to a short term of imprisonment.

Airing, subs. (racing).—When it is not intended that a horse shall win a race for which it is brought to the starting post, it is said to be out for an airing.

1889. Evening Standard, June 25 (Sir Chas. Russell’s speech in
Durham-Chetwynd case).—What he (Sir C. Russell) meant was that Sir
G. Chetwynd never did anything so gross and vulgar as that [tell
the jockey to ‘pull’ horses], and that if horses were pulled, that
was not the way in which in any class of turf society instructions
were given. A wink was as good as a nod, and trainers and jockeys,
from various trivial circumstances, very easily gathered whether a
particular horse was only out for an airing, or whether it was on
the job.

Air Line, or Air Line Road (American).—To take the air line; to go direct, and by the shortest route; idiomatically, to avoid circumlocution. The origin of this expression is to be found in the straight lines of railway, without expensive detours and grades, which in the New World are rendered possible by the vast expanses of unbroken level. These lines of railway are called air line roads, or straight shoots (q.v.). De Vere remarks that since the number of such roads has increased in the more thickly settled parts of the Union, the advantages of direct lines between two great centres over others which meander from town to town have become very manifest, and for a few years a tendency to build such air lines has agitated Legislatures, from whom and from financial circles in the States and abroad help is asked. These lines not unfrequently run for long distances by the side of older lines.

1888. St. Louis Globe Democrat, Jan. 24. The obese style once
admired is now disliked. Many old English authors had too much
rhetoric for our age. Of one thing we are profoundly convicted,
that we have no time to spare for superfluities. An author must
take the air line or we will not travel.

1888. Florida Times Union Advertisement, Feb. 11. Ask for tickets
viâ Augusta or Atlanta and the Piedmont air line.

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

Air One’s Vocabulary, verb. phr. (old).—To talk for talking’s sake; to show off by one’s talk; ‘to flash the gab.’ One of the wits of the time of George IV., when asked what was going on in the House of Commons answered that Lord Castlereagh was airing his vocabulary. The term is now rarely heard, but the practice is with us always.

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

A-Jakes.—See Ajax.

Ajax, subs. (old). (Pronounced with both ‘a’s’ long).—The name of this hero furnished many unsavoury puns to our ancestors, from its similarity in sound to the two English words, a jakes. In some of the passages the allusion is rather obscure, as in this:

1609. Ben Jonson, Epicœne, or The Silent Woman, iv., 5. A stool
were better, sir, of Sir Ajax, his invention.

It is plainer in Shakspeare:

1594. Love’s Labour Lost, v., 2. Your lion, that holds his poll-ax,
sitting on a close stool, will be given to Ajax.

The cause of all this vein of low wit was, perhaps, Sir John Harrington, who in 1596 published his celebrated tract called The Metamorphosis of Ajax, by which he meant the improvement of a jakes, or necessary, by forming it into what we now call a water-closet, of which Sir John was clearly the inventor. For this offence to her delicacy, Queen Elizabeth kept him for some time in disgrace. Used directly for a necessary house.

1611. Cotgrave, Eng. Treasury, p. 16. Which (like the glorious Ajax
of Lincoln’s Inne, I saw in London) laps up naught but filth and
excrements.

1720. Hosp. of Incurab. Fooles, p. 6. Adoring Sterculio for a god,
no lesse unworthily then shamfully constituting him a patron and
protector of Ajax and his commodities.

To the above work of Sir J. Harrington, Ben Jonson seems to allude, as a masterpiece in its way, when, at the conclusion of a dirty poem, he says,

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

And I could wish for their eterniz’d sakes,
My muse had plough’d with his that sung A-jax.

The rhyme here proves that the pronunciation of the time was suited to the English meaning. Even Camden condescends to play upon this word. Speaking of the French word pet, he says,

1605. Remains, p. 117. Inquire, if you understand it not, of
Cloacina’s Chaplains, or such as are well read in Ajax.—See Jakes.

Akerman’s Hotel, subs. (obsolete).—Newgate prison was once so called. The governor’s name was Akerman.—See Cage.

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

A-la-Mort.—See Amort.

Albany Beef, subs. phr. (American).—The popular name of the flesh of the sturgeon. This, in color and taste, has some resemblance to beef, especially when cut in steaks and grilled. Albany is a town on the Hudson River as high as which the fish in question is or was to be caught in large numbers, and as a matter of course, it consequently formed a not inconsiderable factor in the food supply of the inhabitants—hence the term Albany beef.

Albertopolis, subs. (popular).—A nickname formerly given by Londoners to the Kensington Gore district, out of compliment to the late Prince Consort. The Albert Hall and the Exhibition buildings of 1862, with which Prince Albert was so closely identified, are situated within the radius; and the Albert Memorial is hard by.

1864. E. Yates, Broken to Harness, ch. xxxiii., p. 366 (1877). Mr.
Cauthar tripped out of the house, and devoted the remainder of the
evening to working out a composition for the nutriment of the hair,
which, under the name of Cauthar’s Crinibus, has an enormous
circulation over the infant heads of albertopolis.

Albonized, ppl. adj. (pugilistic).—Whitened. [From L. albus, white.]

Alderman, subs. (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.

1857. Snowden, Mag. Assistant, 3 ed., p. 444. Two shillings and
sixpence—alderman.

2. A long pipe; also called a churchwarden (q.v.); in both instances the name is probably an allusion to the penchant these personages had at one time for the long clay.

1859. Fairholt, Tobacco (1876), 173. Such long pipes were
reverently termed alderman in the last age, and irreverently yards
of clay in the present one.

3. A turkey; a variant is an alderman in chains; i.e., 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?

1782. George Parker, Humorous Sketches, p. 31. Nick often eat a
roast fowl and sausage with me, which in cant is called an
alderman, double slang’d.

4. (thieves’).—A jemmy (q.v.); sometimes alderman jemmy. 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.

1883. Daily Telegraph, May 14, p. 3, col. 7. A complete set of
safe-breaking tools had been used and left behind, including
wedges, an alderman jemmy, a hammer weighing 14 lbs.

1888. Saturday Review, 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
‘alderman,’ adding, ‘it would never do to be talking about crowbars
in the street.’

5. Blood and guts alderman, subs. phr. (popular).—A pompous man; one with a ‘corporation.’ The allusion is to the alleged or real over-eating and drinking of aldermen as a class.

Alderman Lushington, subs. (Australian).—Intoxicating beverages.

Alderman’s Pace.—A slow and stately gait, like that of a burly man as aldermen are generally represented. The French have an equivalent phrase, pas d’abbé.

Aldgate. A draught on the pump at Aldgate, subs. phr. (commercial).—A bad bill of exchange. A play on the word ‘draught.’

Alecampane.—See Allacompain.

Alecie, Alecy, subs. (old nonce words) [from ale + suffix cie or cy, as in ‘lunacy’].—The state of being under the influence of ale; drunkenness; also balmyness.

1594. J. Lyly, Mother Bombie, 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
alecie.

Ale-Draper, subs. (old) [from ale + draper 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 rum-cull, and squirt-quester (q.v.).

1593. Henry Chettle, Kinde-Harts Dreame. Two milch maydens that had
set up a shoppe of ale-drapery.

1747. In Parish Register of Scotter, Linc. [Buried], July 8th,
Thomas Broughton, Farmer and Ale Draper.

Ale-Knight, subs. phr. (old) [from ale + knight, used derisively].—A tippler; a boon companion.

1575. Eccl. Proc., Chester. [The Vicar of Whalley, Lanc., is
charged with being a common dronker and ale knight.]

1654. Witt’s Recreations.

Come all you brave wights,
That are dubbed ale-knights
Now set out youselves in fight:
And let them that crack
In the praises of sack,
Know malt is of mickle might.

1863–64. Chambers’ Bk. of Days, ii., 597. This man was a regularly
dubbed ale-knight, loved barley wine to the full.

Ales, subs. (Stock Exchange).—The shares in the brewery business of S. Allsopp and Sons, Limited, are thus known.

Ale Spinner, subs. phr. (old) [from ale + spinner, a manufacturer or producer].—A brewer or publican.

Alexandra Limp, subs. (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 (circa 1860–70) of a crowd of limping petticoated toadies. The craze passed away as suddenly as it came. Cf., Grecian bend.

1876. Chambers’ Journal, No. 629. Your own advocacy of the Grecian
bend and the Alexandra limp—both positive and practical imitations
of physical affliction. [h.]

Alfred David, subs. (common).—An affidavit—obviously a humorous corruption in pronunciation; also affidavy; and, by an extended process of curtailment, davy. All are common colloquialisms among the uneducated classes. After-davy is likewise occasionally heard, generally in connection with a person in extremis.

Algerine, subs. (theat.).—A member of a company who, when ‘the ghost’ cannot be induced to walk, i.e., when the exchequer is low, and salaries are not paid, ‘remonstrates’ with the manager. The term is also used to designate the hard-up borrower of petty sums.

Alive and Kicking, adv. phr. (popular).—An intensive form of ‘alive’ in its most colloquial sense of being alert and full of action. In the days of Pierce Egan’s Tom and Jerry, alive partook far more of the nature of slang than now. Sometimes all alive and kicking is varied by all alivo; knowing; all fly. The allusion is to a child in the womb after quickening.

1889. Globe, 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.’

Allacompain, subs. (rhyming slang).—Forms: alacompain, alicumpane, elecampain, etc. 1. In the so-called rhyming slang this is the equivalent of rain.

2. (common).—Candy supposed to be made from the root of inula helenium or bellwort; it contains, however, little else than colored sugar.

All A-Float, subs. (rhyming slang).—A coat.

All Alive, adv. and adj. (tailors’).—Ill-made garments, and ‘misfits,’ are said to be all alive.

All Along Of (vulgarism).—On account of; by reason of, etc.

All-a-Mort.—See Amort.

All Around Sports, sub. (American).—Obviously a corruption of ‘all round sportsmen,’ i.e., men whose interest in sport is catholic, and all embracing.

All at Sea, adv. phr. (popular).—In an uncertain, vague condition. Of nautical origin, and perhaps more colloquial than slang; equivalent to all abroad (q.v.).

All Brandy, adv. phr. (common).—When it is desired to commend or speak well of anything it is said to be all brandy. The use of such a term suggests curious reflections upon the drinking habits of those who employ it.

Synonyms. A1; the pure quill; about east; about right; at par; the cheese.

All Dickey.—See Dickey.

Alleviator, subs. (common).—A drink; refreshment.

1846. Mark Lemon, Golden Fetters. If any of you feel thirsty after
this exciting interview, I shall be happy to stand an alleviator.

Synonyms. Gargle; smile; Alderman Lushington; long sleeved ’un (Australian, when taken from a long glass); shout; etc.—See Gargle.

Alley, Ally, Alay, subs. (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. Alley is the name given to the medium sizes, smaller ones being called mivvies (q.v.), and the largest bonces (q.v.). The word sometimes appears as alley tor, or alley taw. De Foe, in ‘Duncan Campbell,’ as early as 1720, speaks of a large bag of marbles and alleys, and at that time the term was considered vulgar. It is interesting to note that the supposed derivation of alley from alabaster is borne out by the fact, that among school-boys stone marbles are called stoneys (q.v.), and clay ones commoneys (q.v.). Additional weight is also given to the accuracy of this derivation, when it is remembered that what are known as ‘Dutch alleys’ (q.v.), are only stoneys enamelled or glazed different colours. In old Berlin slang, alley tors were known as Kalbacher.

All-Fired, adj. All-Firedly, adv. (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 [all + fire + ed.], an intensitive of the merely rhetorical fire. Common now on both sides of the Atlantic.

1755. The World, 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 hell-fire cold, of devilish handsome, and the
like.

1835. Haliburton, Clockmaker, 1 S., ch. xxiv. ‘Look at that ’ere
Dives,’ they say, ‘what an all-fired scrape he got into by his
avarice with Lazarus.’

1861. Hughes, Tom Brown at Oxford, ch. xl. ‘I knows I be so
all-fired jealous; I can’t abear to hear o’ her talkin’, let alone
writin’ to——’

1883. James Payn, Thicker than Water, ch. xvii. ‘Well,’ he said ...
‘you’ve been an all-fired time you have in selling those jars.’

All Fly.—See Fly.

All Fours. To go or be on all fours, verb. phr. (popular).—From the four legs of a quadruped, or the two legs and two arms of a child or man. Hence to go on all fours 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 synonymous with ‘as like as two peas’ (the French say, comme deux gouttes d’eau, 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.

All Gammon! phr. (common).—All nonsense; rubbish!—See All my eye.

All Gay, adv. (thieves’).—All serene; all right; the coast is clear. The French voleur says, c’est franco!

All-Get-Out, phr. (American).—That beats all-get-out, 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.

All Hands to the Pump, verb. phr. (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.

All Holiday at Peckham, proverbial phr. (popular).—No work to do; and, as a concomitant, nothing to eat. A play upon words.—See Peckish.

1811. Lexicon Balatronicum. All holiday at Peckham ... a saying
signifying that it is all over with the business or person spoken
of or alluded to.

1848. Forster, Oliver Goldsmith, bk. I., ch. vi., p. 55 (5ed.) ‘Oh,
that is all a holiday at peckham,’ said an old friend very
innocently one day, is a common proverbial phrase.

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. 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.

All Hollow, adv. (popular).—To beat, or carry all hollow, i.e., utterly; completely.

All Hot! subs. (common).—A hot potato. A cry used by peripatetic street vendors.

All In, phr. (Stock Exchange).—When the market is depressed and a disposition to sell prevails, it is said to be all in. Conversely, all out signifies that the market is improving.

All in a Pucker.—See Pucker.

All in Fits, adv. phr. (tailors’).—Badly made clothes are said to be all in fits, or to have a paralytic stroke. Such garments are also said to fit where they touch, i.e., nowhere. Now common.

All jaw. All jaw like a sheep’s head, adv. phr. (common).—Said of one who is a great talker; or, who has the gift of the gab.

1876. C. Hindley, Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack, p. 41. ‘Look
at the man! hear him; why, he’s all jaw like a sheep’s head. He was
drummed out of the regiment he was in for eating his comrades’
knapsacks.’

A synonym is all mouth.—See Jaw.

All Lombard Street to a China Orange, phr. (old); sometimes all Lombard Street to ninepence.—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.

1819. Thomas Moore, Tom Cribb’s Memorial to Congress, p. 38.

A pause ensued—’till crie of ‘Gregson,’
Brought Bob, the poet, on his legs soon,—
My eyes, how prettily Bob writes!
Talk of your camels, hogs and crabs,
And twenty more such Pidcock frights—
Bob’s worth a hundred of these dabs,
All Lombard Street to ninepence on it.