Showing posts with label WIP. Show all posts
Showing posts with label WIP. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 15, 2020

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Hat in hand


I wrote the phrase hat in hand in my Silver Rush WIP, then had to stop and look it up. (Of course!)
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According to Merriam-Webster, hat in hand, a phrase that indicates something is done "in an attitude of respectful humility," dates from 1821, putting it comfortably in the earlier part of the 19th century. The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms by Christine Ammer includes cap in hand with a definition of "in a humble manner." Ammer places first use of the phrase circa 1700 and adds:
This expression alludes to removing one's headgear as a sign of respect and has survived the era of doffing one's hat.
[ASIDE: Doffing... love that word! Will have to find a place for it...]

In any case, doing something hat in hand is perfectly reasonable for my 1882-era characters, whether they proceed literally or figuratively.

This guy does not look like the "hat in hand" type.
General Étienne-Maurice Gérard (1816) by Jacques Louis David
The Metropolitan Museum

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

Wednesday's Random Not-Quite-Slang O-rama: 1800s telephone etiquette


Taking a little different tack on today's posting with a peek into recent research and my findings and frustrations.

What do you say when you greet someone over the phone? It's probably some version of "Hello." I'm betting it's not "Ahoy!" However, if Alexander Graham Bell had had his way, that might indeed be what you'd holler down the (wireless) line....

Ring-a-ding-ding, 19th century-style.
Image by Momentmal from Pixabay

One recent night as the midnight hour struck, I became a little over-obsessed over how phone calls were handled in the 19th century. (Late at night is never a good time for me to get obsessed.) I stumbled upon an NPR article explaining that whereas Bell preferred the term Ahoy! as a telephonic greeting, Thomas Edison preferred Hello! (We know who won that tug-of-war.) This passage also caught my late-night attention:
... [T]he first phone book ever published, by the District Telephone Company of New Haven, Connecticut, in 1878 (with 50 subscribers listed) told users to begin their conversations with "a firm and cheery 'hulloa.'"
I knew there was a telephone exchange in Leadville, Colorado, in 1879, thanks to Leadville silver baron Horace Tabor. (In fact, there's a wonderful article in Colorado Magazine, dated 1928, talking about the early years of telephone, right here.) And San Francisco apparently had its first telephone directory in 1878. 

Wouldn't it be wonderful, thinks I, if I could find a digital copy of that early San Francisco phone book and read their instructions on telephone etiquette and how to use a telephone??

The minutes ticked by as I buzzed around the internet, looking for such a directory. Alas, all I could dig up was a version that had been typed up from the original in 1952. This transcribed version only included names and addresses and the cryptic note: 
Names preceded by stars are connected with the CENTRAL OFFICE SYSTEM and can be switched into private connection with each other.
I finally uncovered a text version of the 1893 San Francisco Telephone Directory, which although much later in time than my 1882 setting, includes this fascinating information on page 2:
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REMARKS FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE SERVICE. 
"HERE'S 64."  
At least half the time consumed in every telephone connection, is used in ascertaining who is talking at each end. If subscribers will adopt the following style, they will be surprised at the saving of time and annoyance to themselves 
Suppose Smith's Telephone number is 741 and he desires to converse with Jones, whose telephone number is 64. 
FIRST: Smith calls Central Office and says: "741 wants 64" and waits, with telephone at his ear. SECOND: Central Office rings Jones' Bell.
THIRD: Jones rings his bell once in reply and without waiting further, says, "here's 64, Mr. Jones;"
FOURTH: Smith then says, "this is Mr. Smith," and proceeds with his conversation.
 
"SUNSET" 
The lines connecting San Francisco with the interior towns are owned by the SUNSET TELEPHONE AND TELEGRAPH CO. If subscribers will kindly observe the following Instructions, they will receive quicker and more satisfying service:
1.--When you wish to connect with any interior town, call the local Exchange as usual.

2.--Operator: "What is it, please?"

2.--Subscriber: "Sunset room."
(Central office then connects the Sunset room and--)
3.--Operator: "Here's the Sunset;"

3.--Subscriber: "Give me No. 42 Oakland;"

4.--Operator: "Who is talking, please?"

4.--Subscriber: "Mr. Jones."

5.--Operator: "Whom shall we ask for, please?'

5.--Subscriber: (The subscriber will now name the person with whom he particularly desires to converse, or tell the operator to call up "Anybody".)

Then hang up your telephone: your order is now fully understood and when we ring your bell again, we will have Mr. Brown at Oakland, he will know it is Mr. Jones at telephone No. 46, San Francisco wants him, and both will be saved a lot of preliminary "hello,"  "Is that Mr. Jones," "Who are you," etc., etc.
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There it is, in the very last paragraph: the word "hello."

Of course, this is from 1893, and since my current work-in-progress has a bit of a nautical flavor, you can bet your bottom dollar I'm going to find a way to slip in an "Ahoy!" here and there.

I also have a little more direction as to what might be said and heard as my protagonist Inez  Stannert attempts to eavesdrop on a telephone conversation in the next room in 1882 San Francisco....
"Ahoy there, sailor...."
Les bienfaits du téléphone Abeillé, Jack , Dessinateur Entre 1904 et 1912 20e siècle Petit Palais, musée des Beaux-arts de la Ville de Paris PPD4790 CC0








Wednesday, April 10, 2019

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Before you can say Jack Robinson


Before you can say Jack Robinson. This phrase recently popped out of a character's mouth as I was writing dialogue for my current work-in-progress, causing me to screech to a halt.

I knew what this expression meant: very quickly, or suddenly

But did this expression exist in 1881 (the timeframe I'm writing about), or was I being (horrors!) anachronistic? And who is/was Jack Robinson anyway?

Well, you can guess what I did next. (Hint: I didn't plunge back into the draft.)
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According to my handy-dandy American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms by Christine Ammer, the expression before you can say Jack Robinson (or quicker than you can say Jack Robinson) originated in the 1700s. (Yay! I can use it!) However, according to Ammer, Jack Robinson himself remains a mystery:
... the identity of Jack Robinson has been lost. Grose's Classical Dictionary (1785) said he was a man who paid such brief visits to acquaintances that there was scarcely time to announce his arrival before he had departed, but it gives no further documentation.
The online Phrase Finder is also left scratching its head over this Jack fellow, suggesting one more possible derivation, but then quickly discounting it:
...Sir John Robinson was the Constable of the Tower of London for several years from 1660 onward. Some have suggested that he was the source of the phrase and have bequeathed him a reputation for hastily chopping off people's heads. There's no evidence to link the phrase with Sir John, or that he was in any way unusually quick in dispatching the Tower's inmates....
The Word Detective has fun tackling this phrase by way of musing into the many uses of the name "Jack." Once we've danced round and about that tree, the detective concedes that no one knows for certain who this Jack Robinson was.

Wikipedia lines up all the theories about this (mythical) Jack Robinson and adds a few more, right here.

Enjoy!

As for me, it's back to the draft, faster than you can say...
Well. You know.

Off and running! No time to linger!
From More Celtic Fairy Tales, Jacobs, J., New York: G. P. Putnam's sons; London: D Nutt (1894), illustration by John Dickson Batten? [Public domain]

Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Card sharp / Card shark


I was describing a card sharp in my current WIP (work-in-progress, aka Book 7 of the Silver Rush series), when I stopped, wondering if I had ever addressed the term card sharp or its alternative card shark in my slang-o-rama postings.

After a quick search, I discovered I hadn't! An oversight on my part. 

Soooooo here we go.
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The Phrase Finder has a nice post about card sharp and card shark, offering the following definition:
Someone who is skillful at playing or manipulating cards, or one who makes a living by cheating at cards.
(You can see why I am surprised that I haven't addressed this bit of slang before.)

Phrase Finder goes on to say that both terms appeared first in the U.S., and offers up the following:
...the earliest known citations of 'card-sharp' and 'card-shark' come from the USA. The first of these is in the New York Correspondence column of the Kansas newspaper Freedom’s Champion, from September 1859:
"Few of your men of the ‘Far West’ have any idea of the ups and downs of a stock speculator. It is true you may occasionally have the example of a card sharp who yesterday drove his tandem and only to-day is obliged to go afoot…"
'Card-shark' comes a few years later as in this example from Wisconsin newspaper The Daily Northwestern, October 1893:
"A few days ago Charles Petrie opened a gambling house, which was promptly raided by the city police. Then Petrie got angry and swore out warrants for all the other keepers until every card shark in the city was taken in."
Online Etymology notes that, in this general context, the term sharp or sharper comes from older stock, to wit:
sharp (n.) "a cheat at games," 1797, short for sharper (1680s) in this sense. This leaves me scratching my head re: the Caravaggio painting below, which dates from 1595...
 But in any case, to be true to my fictional times (the 1880s), I suppose I'd better go with the sharp(er) image.

Clearly he's not scratching an itch on his back!
The Cardsharps, circa 1595, by Caravaggio [Public domain]

Wednesday, February 6, 2019

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Topsy-turvy


Well, I just did something I haven't done before: Wrote the VERY LAST CHAPTER of the next book in my Silver Rush series, even though I'm only a tad over halfway through the draft.

I'm into experimenting with different approaches to writing, because... why not?... but still.

After writing THE END (in nice big capital letters), I thought to myself, "This is sure a topsy-turvy way to go about it."

Of course, my second thought was (you can guess, I'm sure):

"Topsy-turvy. Hmmmm. How (and when) did that arrive on the slang scene? It sounds oooold."
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The Barnhart Concise Dictionary of Etymology: The Origins of American English Words by Robert K. Barnhart has this to say (and yep, topsy-turvy dates back quite a bit):
topsy-turvy adverb. (1528) topsy-tervy in utter confusion; (1530) topsy-tirvy upside down; probably formed from tops (plural of TOP, highest point) + obsolete terve, tirve turn upside down, topple over, from Middle English terven (about 1400), from Proto-Germanic terbanan
The Online Etymology Dictionary also gets into the act (with an earlier date and additional information in bold):
1520s, "but prob. in popular use from an earlier period" [OED]; compare top over terve "to fall over" (mid-15c.); likely from tops, plural of top "highest point" + obsolete terve "turn upside down, topple over," from Old English tearflian "to roll over, overturn," from Proto-Germanic terbanan (source also of Old High German zerben "to turn round"). Century Dictionary calls it "A word which, owing to its popular nature, its alliterative type, and to ignorance of its origin, leading to various perversions made to suggest some plausible origin, has undergone, besides the usual variations of spelling, extraordinary modifications of form." It lists 31 variations. As an adjective from 1610s.

Ah-HA! What is this Century Dictionary whereof they speak? I go a-looking around and... oh goody! It's another 19th-century dictionary free to download from Google! So, if you want to go all agog at the page-plus information on topsy-turvy (from topsy-terve to topsytervyfy), be my guest. As for me, I better get back to drafting the muddle in the middle of my next Silver Rush story...


Something's not quite right here...
Strobridge & Co. Lith. [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons