Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Bigwig

You probably know the term bigwig. A bigwig is someone who is mighty important... or at least views himself (or herself) as such.

So, does this term have anything to do with actual wigs?
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No surprises here: It does!

According to the Online Etymological Dictionary, bigwig (or big-wig), meaning "great man, person of consequence," dates to 1781 and refers to the imposing wigs formerly worn by men of rank or authority.

The Grammarphobia Blog, in a post titled Wigs, Bigwigs, and big Whigs dives into this hairy topic with great enthusiasm, noting that the occasionally spotted big-whig is a misnomer. They track first use to 1703 in this passage spotted in a weekly journal called English Spy:

“Be unto him ever ready to promote his wishes … against dun or don—nob or big-wig—so may you never want a bumper of bishop.”

(Bumper of bishop? That's a new one on me! I think it has something to do with drinking some quantity of... something, but that's all I can determine. Anyone who has insight, please feel free to enlighten me. **)

Now this fellow is definitely a bigwig!
This image comes from Gallica Digital Library and is available under the digital ID btv1b8425660h, Public Domain, Link

** Update: And, someone did! Thank you, Liz, for ferreting out this definition of "bishop" from Green's Dictionary of Slang: a mixture of wine and water, topped off by a roasted orange, supposedly an episcopal favourite.

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Bobadil

Now here's one for the books: bobadil.

Any guesses as to what this word means?
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According to Merriam-Webster, calling someone a bobadil is not a compliment. The word means braggart, especially a "cowardly braggart." The Online Etymological Dictionary points to the esteemable Ben Johnson as the originator of this word, naming a boastful character Bobadil in "Every Man in his Humour" (1598). So yes, it has been around for quite a while. 

Some words never go out of style...

There he goes again...
The Fool Who Sells Wisdom by Carle (Antoine Charles Horace) Vernet, 1818

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: By the skin of one's teeth

When a character of mine managed to escape detection by the skin of her teeth, I stopped and thought about that a bit. Since when do teeth have skin? Maybe if they haven't been brushed in a long time? (eeeuw!) And where did that little phrase come from anyway?

Sooooo many distractions from focusing on plowing through Book #8!

But I don't want to use an anachronistic phrase if I can avoid it, so time to sink my teeth into by the skin of one's teeth.
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To my vast relief, this appears to be a very old phrase. In fact, thousands of years old, according to The Grammarist:

By the skin of one’s teeth means just barely, by a narrow margin, just in time. The phrase by the skin of one’s teeth is found in the book of Job in the Old Testament of the Bible. Job is a character in the Bible who undergoes an abundance of suffering due to a challenge that Satan has made to God. Satan tries to break Job’s righteousness by bringing suffering upon him. Job laments his status through much of the book, including the phrase, “My bone cleaveth to my skin and to my flesh, and I am escaped with the skin of my teeth.” What exactly the phrase “escaped with the skin of my teeth” meant in Ancient Hebrew is unknown. It is assumed that the skin referred to in the term skin of my teeth is the enamel, though this is only a guess.

World Wide Words notes the idiom appeared first in the Geneva Bible of 1560 and is a direct translation of the original Hebrew:

Since teeth don’t have skin, the phrase is hard to make sense of; Bible translators and commentators have struggled with it down the centuries. The Douay-Rheims Bible has instead “My bone hath cleaved to my skin, and nothing but lips are left about my teeth.” Other writers have suggested that the reference is to the gums.... 

One modern writer has concluded: "The explanations for the last metaphor are multiple and unconvincing. Its meaning eludes us."

I guess all we can conclude is: 'tis a mystery!

Meeting deadlines by the skin of my teeth (i.e., barely)
Image by Dmitry Abramov from Pixabay

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Saber-rattling

In these fraught times it seems there is a lot of saber-rattling going on. Which, of course, has me wondering about the when and why of this phrase. According to Merriam-Webster saber-rattling is "overtly and often exaggeratedly threatening actions or statements (such as verbal threats or ostentatious displays of military power) that are meant to intimidate an enemy by suggesting possible use of force."

Sabers have been around for a loooong time, so you might think this term dates back to when folks actually used these sharp-edged weapons to cause very real damage to their enemies.

At least, that's what I thought.
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The Online Etymology Dictionary notes that "saber-rattling 'militarism' is attested from 1922." An M-W post, The History of 'Saber-rattling,' is a little fuzzy on the first use as well as the origin of the phrase:

Some think that it comes from the practice of 18th-century Hungarian cavalry units had of brandishing their sabers at opponents prior to charging. Others have said that it comes from the habit that military officers had in the early 20th century of ominously shaking their scabbard when issuing orders to subordinates. Our records indicate that the two words began seeing use in fixed fashion around 1880, making it unlikely that it was directly related to either of the causes given above.

Whether 19th century or 20th century, it's clearly a term that still is relevant to today...

Those sabers look pretty serious to me.
Image by Gerhard Gellinger from Pixabay

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Zounderkite

Here is an vintage word that is perfect for our times: zounderkite.

Any ideas as to what it means?

Go ahead, guess! (No fair peeking on Google.) And then, keep reading to see if you are right...

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According to the Dictionary.com article Insults We Should Bring Back, zounderkite is a Victorian word meaning "idiot." It shows up in many lists of vintage curse words, including 22 Incredible Forgotten Curse Words from Way Back in the Day (which expands on the simple one-word definition with: "a complete idiot who constantly makes clumsy and awkward mistakes"), and BBC America's 10 Victorian Swears from the Real "Ripper Street" (which goes whole hog: "the kind of bumbling idiot that will end up making a disastrous mistake of the sort that beggars belief").

BBC America provided a source, which was a good thing, because this word did not appear in any of my hard copy dictionaries, including Webster's New Universal Unabridged Dictionary. However, their source—1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue—does not contain zounderkite.

What do they take me for, an idiot? That I would not check the source?

I turned to N-gram, thinking surely it would show up there. Nope. Nothing.

Determined, I delved a little further into Google Books, hoping to find a 19th century mention. I finally found it, I'm proud to say, in the 1876 A Glossary of Surrey Words (A Supplement to No. 12.) by Granville William Gresham Leveson Gower, in the Mid-Yorkshire section, where it appears between zookerins! and zounds! 

There it is! Proof, at last!

I think the scarcity of zounderkite in books in general might mean it was a word more spoken than written, at least in the past.

My thrashing about also turned up a Zounderkite family of fonts.
One just never knows what will turn up during Slang-o-rama research.

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Sail close to the wind

Those of you who are nautically inclined will no doubt know the origins and meaning of the phrase sail close to the wind, and why it has an air of danger about its definition. However, I do not, and since I'm mucking around with bits of maritime history as I trudge along drafting book #8 of the Silver Rush series, it seemed time to look this one up...
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The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms by Christine Ammer summarizes as follows:

sail close to the wind: Be on the verge of doing something illegal or improper, as in "She was sailing pretty close to the wind when she called him a liar." This term alludes to the danger incurred when literally sailing too close to (that is, in the direction of) the wind. Its figurative use dates from the first half of the 1800s.

Well, that's pretty cool! And I rather like the sample sentence. There are all kinds of folks my protagonist Inez could accuse of sailing close to the wind in my current work-in-progess. In fact, she could be probably be accused of the same.

There is a little more back'n forth about the phrase over at The Phrase Finder, to wit:

This is a true sailing expression. Sail boats have different characteristics, but all need wind. Some can harvest the wind better than others. If you sail close to the edge of direction that the wind is coming from you may well lose the wind altogether, but you may be able to make better progress than a boat that can't sail as well in such a difficult situation. Thus, if you can 'sail close to the wind' then you can benefit, but you enter a risky area and may lose all!

I looked around a bit more, but that was about all I could find that shed light on this particular phrase. At least, the timing gives me license to let my characters sail close to the wind—in some cases, with disastrous results.

Sailed too close to the wind? Or a reef?...
Shipwreck by Ivan Aivazovsky, 1854

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Pish-posh

Now here's a great expression I used in A DYING NOTE and that I'm itching to use again: pish-posh. Or, if you prefer: pish-tosh.

Nice eh? Of course, the expression isn't nice or complimentary.
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According to my copy of Green's Dictionary of Slang, pish-posh is an interjection that confers the same expression of disdain as saying (contemptuously), "Rubbish!" or "Nonsense!"

The Word Detective has a nice post about this alliterative exclamation, noting:

“Pish posh” actually appears to have two sources. “Pish” by itself has been used as an interjection of impatience or contempt since the 16th century, and, like “pshaw” and “pah,” it arose as an imitation of the sound of disgusted surprise (“‘Pish!’ I growled. ‘Someone has fooled you,'” 1894). The “posh” part of “pish posh” is what linguists call “reduplication,” the repetition of a word with slight variation as a means of emphasis or elaboration (as in “hoity-toity”).

I gulped a little seeing the date 1894. Surely pish-posh was used before then?

Down the rabbit hole I go...

Pish-posh. Don't pay him any mind.
Our time will come.
Image by Oberholster Venita from Pixabay

Votes for women? Pish-posh, that's what I say.
Image by Jo-B from Pixabay 

I found the phrase pish! posh! and pshaw! in a novel from 1862 titled Spurs and Skirts by Allet (a pseudonym). From the title, I thought this might be an adventure set in the American West. However the book opens in Edinburgh, Scotland, so I guess not!

In any case, pish-posh has a nice ring to it, and I'm sure I'll find the proper place for it to reappear in my current endeavor.

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Six ways to Sunday

Six ways to Sunday.

I can recall the first time I gave serious thought to this particular phrase. In What Gold Buys, the fifth book in my Silver Rush mystery series, a character (who shall remain nameless, to avoid any spoilers), says, "Mrs. Stannert, since I’ve come back I’ve explained myself six ways to Sunday."

I wrote this bit of dialogue, stopped and stared at it, and thought that although it certainly sounded "period" (i.e., 19th century), I wasn't entirely positive when it first came into common use. And thus began the journey....
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According to The Free Dictionary (and other such compendiums) six ways to Sunday is defined as "thoroughly or completely; in every possible way; from every conceivable angle."

The Grammarist takes us on a little journey through the various iterations, starting with six ways from Sunday:

Six ways from Sunday seems to have its origins in the middle eighteenth century as the phrases both ways from Sunday and two ways from Sunday. These earlier phrases referred to the eye condition known as strabismus, where someone’s eyes do not focus in unison, giving the appearance of looking in two different directions. From there, the terms both ways from Sunday and two ways from Sunday gained the figurative meaning of looking at something askew. By the mid-1800s the terms two ways from Sunday and nine ways from Sunday appeared, and the meaning evolved to mean to be at a loss. The phrase evolved once again in the late 1800s in America to mean every way possible. One still finds many varieties of the phrase, the number in question might be six, seven, nine or a thousand, the preposition might be from, to or for, but the day referred to in the idiom is always Sunday and the idiom carries the same meaning...

World Wide Words weighs in on this phrase as well. When a poster wonders if the idiom might refer to patterns of activity during a week, from one Sunday to the next, WWW responds:

You’re not alone in feeling unsure of the origin; you are in the company of almost everybody who has looked at it. Others have made this suggestion for its origin. One specific and quite certainly false tale lists punishments that were once meted out on the six days following a Sunday to a person who failed to attend church....

As to its origin, WWW points to the definition of squint-a-pipes (now there's an intriguing bit of argot!), which appears in the 1785 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue by Captain Francis Grose:

SQUINT-A-PIPES. A squinting man or woman; said to be born in the middle of the week, and looking both ways for Sunday; or born in a hackney coach, and looking out of both windows; fit for a cook, one eye in the pot, and the other up the chimney; looking nine ways at once.

WWW adds that Sunday was presumably chosen because it would have been regarded as the most significant day of the week.

I would never have guessed that six ways to Sunday owed its beginnings to crossed eyes! I wonder if squint-a-pipes was still in use in the 1880s...

Which way to Sunday?
Image by 272447 from Pixabay

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Mosey

These days when I go out for a walk, I perambulate through my neighborhood and mostly just mosey around, musing about... well... all kinds of things, including the where, when and why of the word mosey.

Mosey has a nice ring to it. Kind of casual and slow.
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According to Americanisms, Old and New by John Stephen Farmer, to mosey means to depart suddenly and involuntarily; to sneak away. Farmer continues:

This, with some degree of plausibility, is supposed to be a corruption of the Spanish vamose, an elision of the first syllable having occurred and the final vowel being sounded. To mosey is also often used in the primary simple sense of "to go," and to mosey along with any one is also employed idiomatically in the sense of to agree with.

All of this is rather fascinating, although I have to say I've never equated mosey with "sudden (involuntary) departure." The Online Etymological Dictionary puts first use at about 1829 and defines mosey as American English slang meaning "move off or away, get out." 

Even though it states mosey is of unknown origin, the OED can't help but offer a theory or two:

...perhaps related to British dialectal mose about "go around in a dull, stupid way." Or perhaps from some abbreviation of Spanish vamos (see vamoose). Related: Moseyed; moseying.

Well, at least I know that my Silver Rush characters can safely mosey through the 1880s without fear of anachronism. 

For a change of scenery, let's mosey with Seurat for a bit.
A Sunday on La Grande Jatte (1884) by Georges Seurat - twGyqq52R-lYpA at Google Cultural Institute maximum zoom level, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=22319969

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Stultiloquy

Let's go archaic this week and bring back a word that may actually be relevant to today's world: Stultiloquy

What, you are probably asking, does stultiloquy mean? Well, I could go on and on and on at great and tedious length...

Which is, more or less, the point.
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Webster's 1913 dictionary defines the noun stultiloquy as foolish talk; silly discourse; babbling. 

But O! Let us not stop here, for there's much more to learn about this wonderful word.

Dr. Goodword from Alphadictionary.com has an entry on stultiloquy that is full of explanations and examples (and even a little "Hear it!" button so you can hear how it is pronounced). He notes that the word is based on an obsolete adjective stulty, which means "foolish, stupid." Stulty is also the basis for the word stultify, which is defined as "to make stupid, render useless." Marching right alongside stultiloquy is the equally polysyllabic adjective stultiloquent and an alternative noun, stultiloquence.

World Wide Words notes that stultiloquy is from the Latin stultiloquus, speaking foolishly, which come in turn from stultus, foolish, plus loquus, that speaks.

Both Alphadictionary.com and World Wide Words make snarky comments about how this is the perfect word to apply to certain, unnamed political figures.

It does seem a pity it has fallen out of use. In a quest to discover when it was popular, I turned to Google's Ngram. Here are the results:

Stultiloquy appears to have peaked sometime around 1820, and was not very popular even then. I think this would be a most excellent word to reintroduce into the English language, don't you agree?

This pretty much says it all for stultiloquy.
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: An arm and a leg

Hello all! I hope you are all staying healthy in these uncertain times. And what kind of a crazy place is this where toilet paper (of all things) has become a commodity as scarce as hen's teeth, and when one does find a pack of the precious paper, it costs an arm and a leg??

And when did things that fetch a pretty penny come to demand various appendages in payment in addition to the coin of the realm?
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The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms by Christine Ammer says that the idiom arm and a leg became widely known from the 1930s on, and probably had its origins in the 19th-century American criminal slang phrase if it takes a leg (that is, even at the cost of a leg), to express desperate determination.

Phrase Finder offers a more detailed theory:

'It cost and arm and a leg' is one of those phrases that rank high in the 'I know where that comes from' stories told at the local pub.... It is in fact an American phrase, coined sometime after WWII. The earliest citation I can find is from The Long Beach Independent, December 1949:

Food Editor Beulah Karney has more than 10 ideas for the homemaker who wants to say "Merry Christmas" and not have it cost her an arm and a leg.

'Arm' and 'leg' are used as examples of items that no one would consider selling other than at an enormous price. It is a grim reality that, around that time, there were many US newspaper reports of servicemen who had lost an arm and a leg in the recent war. It is possible that the phrase originated in reference to the high cost paid by those who suffered such amputations. A more likely explanation is that the expression derived from two earlier phrases: 'I would give my right arm for...' and '[Even] if it takes a leg', which were both coined in the 19th century. The earliest example that I can find of the former in print is from an 1849 edition of Sharpe's London Journal:

He felt as if he could gladly give his right arm to be cut off if it would make him, at once, old enough to go and earn money instead of Lizzy.

The second phrase is American and an early example of it is given in this heartfelt story from the Iowa newspaper the Burlington Daily Hawk-Eye, July 1875:

A man who owes five years subscription to the Gazette is trying to stop his paper without paying up, and the editor is going to grab that back pay if it takes a leg.

Interesting!

In any case, I hope that, if you are on the search for toilet paper, buying such does not involve losing limbs or handing over great amounts of capital.

Stay healthy, stay sane, and share with others less fortunate and/or more desperate, if you can.

It does seem a bit like this lately...
Image by bbasilico0 from Pixabay

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Snookered!

Yes, I know I promised an arm and a leg for this week, but I've been snookered by a virus (not THIS virus, thank goodness. Just some run-of-the-mill seasonal virus). As a result, I had to bow out of attending one of my favorite mystery conventions, Left Coast Crime. And I am saaaaaad. 😢

So, while the ibuprofen is at maximum strength, let's take a look at the word snookered. Could my 19th century protagonist Inez cry out in anger that she'd been snookered and stomp around in a fury? I'd like to think so—at least, I can certainly envision it—but I've been wrong before... 
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My copy of Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary, Tenth Edition,  notes that the noun snooker (dating from 1889 and of unknown origin) is a variation of pool played with 15 red balls and 6 variously colored balls. It took until 1925, apparently, for it to gain traction as a verb meaning to make a dupe of or hoodwink.

Huh!

I'm not seeing how the noun and verb are even related. But then, I've never played snooker! Let's dig a little deeper.

The Online Etymological Dictionary offers a possible explanation of how the game came to be called such, and then gets right down to it, defining snooker as "to cheat" and providing this connection, straight from the rules of the game:

One of the great amusements of this game is, by accuracy in strength, to place the white ball so close behind a pool ball that the next player cannot hit a pyramid ball, he being "snookered" from all of them. If he fail to strike a pyramid ball, this failure counts one to the adversary. If, however, in attempting to strike a pyramid ball off a cushion, he strike a pool ball, his adversary is credited with as many points as the pool ball that is struck would count if pocketed by rule. [Maj.-Gen. A.W. Drayson, The Art of Practical Billiards for Amateurs, 1889]

Still, this sneaky setup isn't "cheating," per se. It just sounds like very skilled playing. So, I'm still not seeing the connection. Luckily, there's a very nice discussion on Stack Exchange about this very thing, and I invite you to check it out... you'll learn a lot more about snooker—the game and the possible connection to "cheating," than I can tell you here. 

My takeaway: I can be snookered, but Inez can't (at least, not in 1882!).

And just when you least expect it, snookered! (I could definitely see Inez doing this...)
From The Galaxy, An Illustrated Magazine of Entertaining Reading, Vol. VI), July 1868
Wood engraving, Winslow Homer

Addendum: In her comment below, Liz V mentioned the movie "The Hustler" starring Paul Newman and Jackie Gleason. I found a clip and just have to share. Thank you, Liz!

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: A pretty penny

If something costs a pretty penny, you can bet that you'll be paying more than just one shiny copper coin.

So, why (and when) did a pretty penny come to mean a large sum of money? A regular Slang-o-rama reader asked me about this phrase, and as I'm always happy to jump in on special requests and see what I can find, let's hop to it.
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Hop!

The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms by Christine Ammer provides the expected definition—"a considerable sum of money"—and dates it to early 1700s. The Phrase Finder gives us a little more background:

'A pretty penny' used to have the variants 'a fine penny', 'a fair penny' etc, but these have fallen by the wayside. All the forms of the expression came into the language in the 18th century and an early example is from a play by the popular playwright Susanna Centlivre, The Man's Bewitch'd, 1710: "Why here may be a pretty Penny towards, if the Devil don't cross it."

Intriguing, but I was hoping for an explanation as to why a "pretty" penny. Shiny or worn, a penny is worth the same, right? The Online Etymology Dictionary reminded me that, since the late 15th century, pretty has also been used to mean "not a few, considerable." Yes, I could see where that definition might (Dare I say it? Yes, I dare!) make sense(cents) in this context.

However, I think I will give the final word to the Wordwizard site, where this theory was posited:

The origin of this phrase is uncertain but it is often attributed to the special gold pennies, worth 20 silver pennies, that Henry III had coined in 1257. Since they were more valuable than the silver pennies, they became known as pretty pennies. (Picturesque Expressions by Urdang, American Heritage Dictionary, Facts on File Dictionary of Clichés)

So, there you go, inquiring reader. Pretty as in considerable or pretty as in gold? You choose! However, no matter how you look at it, if something costs a pretty penny, it'll probably also cost an arm and a leg. (More about that next week.)

More than one pretty penny in that pile...
Image by makingmilly from Pixabay

*Cents, because I cannot resist the possible pun...

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: From fiddle-faddle to fiddlesticks

Now here is an interjection that sounds like something my protagonist Inez Stannert might say (when she's trying to avoid saying something profane): Fiddle-faddle!

The term also has a bit of a musical air about it, and the "fiddle" has me thinking of old-time fiddle playing. So, just how old is this expression, and how did it evolve?

Let's find out!
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According to my copy of American Slang, 2nd Edition, edited by Robert L. Chapman, Ph.D., fiddle-faddle, which means nonsense or foolishness appeared as a noun by 1577 (!!) and by 1671 was being used as an exclamation of irritation, disapproval, or dismissal.

The Online Etymological Dictionary goes along with the 1570s origin date, adding that it is apparently a reduplication of the obsolete word faddle, which means "to trifle," or of fiddle in its contemptuous sense.

In a post titled 10 Interjections Your Vocabulary Has Been Missing, Merriam-Webster suggests the term evolved from fiddlesticks:

The word fiddle-faddle comes from a long tradition of words playfully coined by the process of reduplication: in this case, the word fiddlesticks got cut down and doubled with a vowel change.

Well, I couldn't leave it at that, so onward to fiddle, faddle, and fiddlesticks. The Online Etymological Dictionary has a fairly lengthy exploration of the origins of the word fiddle, noting that it seems to have morphed over time to the point where it carries a slightly contemptuous "air." For faddle, the Online Etymological Dictionary simply states:

faddle (v.) "to make much of a child," 1680s.

As for how/why fiddlesticks came to mean nonsense, World Wide Words comes to the rescue with this explanation:

At some point in Shakespeare’s lifetime, it seems fiddlestick began to be used for something insignificant or trivial. This may have been because a violin bow was regarded as inconsequential or perhaps simply because the word sounds intrinsically silly. It took on a humorous slant as a word one could use to replace another in a contemptuous response to a remark. George Farquhar used it in this way in his play Sir Henry Wildair of 1701: “Golden pleasures! golden fiddlesticks!”. From here it was a short step to using the word as a disparaging comment to mean that something just said was nonsense.

Whew. You are probably now thinking (as I am) "Fiddlesticks! Enough of this fiddle-faddle!"

Don't mind me, I'm just fiddling around with words...
Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

Addendum: Liz V. mentioned in her comment below the expression fiddle-de-dee, which certainly belongs to this lineup! According to The Online Etymology Dictionary, the contemptuous nonsense word fiddle-de-dee dates from 1784. However, it will always make me think of Gone With the Wind and Scarlett O'Hara (see snippet below, at about 12 seconds):

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: For a song

When you can obtain something for a song, you expect to get it inexpensively, right? In fact, The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms by Christine Ammer defines the phrase as meaning "very cheaply, for little money, especially for less than something is worth" and gives an example straight out of Shakespeare's All's Well That Ends Well:

I know a man... sold a goodly manor for a song.

So how long has this idiom been around, and why would it refer to buying on the cheap?

Any guesses?
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Ammer places its first appearance in the late 1500s (well, Shakespeare, after all) and notes:
"This idiom alludes to the pennies given to street singers or to the small cost of sheet music." The Free Dictionary says pretty much the same: "The ultimate origin of this phrase is probably the practice, in former times, of selling written copies of ballads very cheaply at fairs." According to this entry, the expression was in common use by the mid-17th century.

TheIdioms.com goes with a first appearance in the 1500s and agrees that the phrase probably refers to street singers, adding, "They would stand on the side of the street and people would give them pennies. Singing was not seen as a large accomplishment as it could be done by everyone. Therefore, you would not be paid much for it."

Singing... not a large accomplishment???

The idiom is probably related to street singers. They would stand on the side of the street and people would give them pennies. Singing was not seen as a large accomplishment as it could be done by everyone. Therefor, you would not be paid much for it. You would also have to pay for sheet music (1500s.) (Theidioms.com)

The idiom is probably related to street singers. They would stand on the side of the street and people would give them pennies. Singing was not seen as a large accomplishment as it could be done by everyone. Therefor, you would not be paid much for it. You would also have to pay for sheet music (1500s.) (Theidioms.com)

The idiom is probably related to street singers. They would stand on the side of the street and people would give them pennies. Singing was not seen as a large accomplishment as it could be done by everyone. Therefor, you would not be paid much for it. You would also have to pay for sheet music (1500s.) (Theidioms.com)

The idiom is probably related to street singers. They would stand on the side of the street and people would give them pennies. Singing was not seen as a large accomplishment as it could be done by everyone. Therefor, you would not be paid much for it. You would also have to pay for sheet music (1500s.) (Theidioms.com)

The idiom is probably related to street singers. They would stand on the side of the street and people would give them pennies. Singing was not seen as a large accomplishment as it could be done by everyone. Therefor, you would not be paid much for it. You would also have to pay for sheet music (1500s.) (Theidioms.com)

The idiom is probably related to street singers. They would stand on the side of the street and people would give them pennies. Singing was not seen as a large accomplishment as it could be done by everyone. Therefor, you would not be paid much for it. You would also have to pay for sheet music (1500s.) (Theidioms.com)

The idiom is probably related to street singers. They would stand on the side of the street and people would give them pennies. Singing was not seen as a large accomplishment as it could be done by everyone. Therefor, you would not be paid much for it. You would also have to pay for sheet music (1500s.) (Theidioms.com)

The idiom is probably related to street singers. They would stand on the side of the street and people would give them pennies. Singing was not seen as a large accomplishment as it could be done by everyone. Therefor, you would not be paid much for it. You would also have to pay for sheet music (1500s.) (Theidioms.com)

Theia Carrington Drake, my fictional prima donna who takes center stage in my newest Silver Rush historical mystery, MORTAL MUSIC, would vehemently disagree.

You won't get this kind of singing for a song.
By Thomas Rowlandson - JwFP_imNhhV_iw at Google Cultural Institute maximum zoom level, Public Domain, Link

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Chin music

As promised, here's another musical idiom to herald the upcoming release of the seventh book in my Silver Rush series, MORTAL MUSIC:

 Chin music.

I'll confess, this is a new one to me. Not that it's "new." In fact, it apparently first appeared almost two centuries ago...

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According to American Slang, Second Edition, edited by Robert L. Chapman Ph.D., chin music has several definitions, depending on the context. It can mean:

1. talk, especially inconsequential chatter or chitchat (first appeared in 1830s)
2. various kinds of raucous shouting at a baseball game, from the crowd, from the players to each other, from the players or manager to the umpires, etc. (by 1880s)
3. a pitched ball that passes close to the batter's face; a beanball (by the 1980s)

I checked this one on Google's ngram, and sure enough, there it is, going waaaay back.



I dug a little deeper and found several 19th-century examples, including the one below from Potter's American Monthly: An Illustrated Magazine of History, Literature, Science and Art, Volumes 10–11 (1878).

Chin music would fit right in with my Silver Rush series. So is this idiom new to you as well? Or is it just me?

A chin-music ensemble? (Cue the accompanist, entering the room.)
By Eugene de Blaas - Art Renewal Center, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=7753932

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Blow one's own horn

With the newest of my Silver Rush historical mysteries, MORTAL MUSIC, officially releasing on January 27, I thought I'd spend this month exploring some not-so-random musical idioms and bits of slang. After all, as an author, I should blow my own horn or alternatively (or more specifically) blow my trumpet.
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According to The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms by Christine Ammer, these phrases, which mean to "brag about oneself," have been out and about since the late 1500s.

I was having a hard time finding out much else about this phrase until I stumbled on an archived Writer's Block post by S. D. Liddiard (from the year 2000!) titled "Instruments of Expression: Bells, Drums, and a Horn," which notes:

To blow your own horn is to be a braggart or "blowhard." This expression, arising in the American West about the middle of the 19th century, derives from an earlier expression, blow your own trumpet, dating back to at least 1576 and probably originating in medieval times, when heralds blew trumpets to announce the arrival of the king. Of course, any merchant or other commoner who wanted to announce his arrival had to blow his own horn.

And if that strikes a chord with you, feel free to check out this Slang-o-rama post from July 2019 that delves into that particular expression.

Now here is a man who knows how to blow his own horn! Might he be an author with an upcoming book release??
The actual title of this 1818 cartoon by G. Cruikshank is "A German mountebank blowing his own trumpet at a Dutch concert of 500 piano fortes!!" (From the Library of Congress)

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Mafficking

How was your New Year's Eve? Did you go mafficking about when the clock struck midnight? I'll wager that many folks did (although I am long past that point and was more intent on sleeping the night through).

Now, let us dive into the mysterious word: mafficking...
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Mafficking is a most excellent bit of Victorian slang that, according to the Mental Floss blog post "56 Delightful Victorian Slang Terms You Should Be Using," means getting rowdy in the streets.

The origin of this word is fascinating as well. According to Merriam Webster:

 Maffick is an alteration of Mafeking Night, the British celebration of the lifting of the siege of a British military outpost during the South African War at the town of Mafikeng (also spelled Mafeking) on May 17, 1900. The South African War was fought between the British and the Afrikaners, who were Dutch and Huguenot settlers originally called Boers, over the right to govern frontier territories. Though the war did not end until 1902, the lifting of the siege of Mafikeng was a significant victory for the British because they held out against a larger Afrikaner force for 217 days until reinforcements could arrive. The rejoicing in British cities on news of the rescue produced maffick, a word that was popular for a while, especially in journalistic writing, but is now relatively uncommon.

I think it's a word that should be revived, don't you? 

Here's to a new year, a new decade, and a renewal of mafficking!

Here's to more mafficking in 2020!
Image by ktphotography from Pixabay

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Catch a weasel asleep

This time of year, trying to hide presents from prying eyes and fingers is like trying to catch a weasel asleep. 
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Now there's a phrase you don't hear every day...
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... But according to Google's ngram search engine, such was not always the case:

The Dictionary of Americanisms, 2nd ed. enlarged, by John Russell Bartlett (published in 1859) has this to say about the phrase:

It is supposed that this little animal is never caught napping, for the obvious reason that he sleeps in his hole beyond the reach of man. The expression is applied to persons who are watchful and always on the alert, or who cannot be surprised; as, "You cannot deceive me, any sooner than you can catch a weasel asleep," or, "You can't catch a weasel asleep." The expressions are common.

They might have been common in the mid-19th century, but not so much now. So whether you are trying to wrap a gift on the sly or trying to sneak out early from work to do some last-minute shopping this coming week, I wish you luck in catching the weasel asleep!

Is that present for me??Awww, you shouldn't have!
Image by Trond Giæver Myhre from Pixabay