VAGARIES OF SPEECH.
OUTSIDE the ranks of such words and phrases as are to be found in dictionaries, and are sanctioned by Academies —the " regulars " of speech, in fact—exist a great number of irregular and unacademic vocables which owe their origin to a variety of causes,—sometimes to an ingrained inaccuracy in the speaker, or, again, to efforts more or less successful to eke out the deficiencies of our native tongue by new coinages. Such of the latter as achieve a popularity beyond the limits of a family circle or set, by reason of their appropriateness or opportuneness, pass into the slang currency of the day, and for five or ten years enjoy an enormous circulation. But with few exceptions, such cant phrases and catchwords are singularly short-lived. M. Barrere, in his recently published "Dictionary of Argot and Slang," gives a list of twenty- four synonyms for "swell," which have been successively employed from the date of the Revolution down to the present day. The last on his list is becarre, which is probably already superseded by some neologism better suited to the needs of the situation. We do not propose, however, in the present paper to review the recent growths of slang proper, but rather to discourse on those excrescences of speech which are confined to individuals or small cliques, and, be it added, are none the less picturesque or appropriate on that account. Nearly every family has its own private lingo, in some cases of a very elaborate and expressive character, and some of these unwritten coinages deserve perpetuation. For example, we have never seen in print the word " prinjinketty," which has struck us as admirably suggestive of a fidgetty, captious, and fussy mind. A " prinjinketty " person is one who is always getting into a " fantigue," or fuss,—another expressive word, and, like the former, of Irish origin. Hibernian again, are " Blatherumskite," an excellent synonym for windy nonsense ; "to renaygue," i.e., to revoke at whist, or refuse, as a horse at a jump ; "to collogne ;" and a "glory-hole," = a lumber-room or general repository for useless objects. Irish, also, are the phrases, "of self" (= sponte end)," by her (or his) lone," when an English speaker would say "by herself," and" dear knows," or "the dear knows," though readers of Mrs. Ewing will remember that this is also to be found in the mouth of York- shire speakers. Unlike their English sisters, Irish ladies are often in the habit of using harmless and picturesque expletives in the domestic circle, occasionally borrowing them from the vocabulary of lower social strata. Such are "Glory be to goodness !" "Blessed hour !" and many others. Nemesis is propitiated by the phrase, "In a good hour be it spoken," which answers the purpose of the German unberufen. Apart from accent or brogue, Irish people betray their nationality by the peculiar meaning which they attach to certain words. A cupboard is seldom so called, " press " being its Irish repre- sentative; while the Celtic taste for floridity is evinced in a predilection for the term "avenue," as opposed to "drive."
Turning from the Anglo-Irish dialect, which even in its most polite form is full of individual turns of expression, to the con- sideration of the peculiarities of our native tongue as spoken by natives, we would here call attention in passing to a sub- ject already discussed in these columns,—that of family lingo. A domestic argot is full of charm and peril. It is the outward symbol of that intimate freemasonry which prevails between the members of a circle who measure things by the same standard. On the other hand, persons who employ it to any great extent are constantly in danger -of bewildering outsiders by using it in mixed society. In some cases it takes the form of intentional malaprops. Thus one family with whom the writer is acquainted constantly allude to the male or female "sect," and talk of a person with a " volumnious " figure.
" Snrreptuously " is another favourite word of the same circles. Again, some families are in the habit of Angli- cising French words to express shades of meaning not to be found in the language of the dictionary. To pro- nounce dogmatically on any point is, in one such family lingo, "to pontify "—an excellent coinage—to be puzzled is "to be intrigued," and an easy attitude is said to be " degaged." Another trick observable in quarters where this tendency to tamper with the Queen's English is strongly developed, is that of intentional mispronunciation,—also very dangerous and misleading in mixed society. This often grows out of some actual blunder, and the desire to perpetuate it. Thus, a member of the writer's family, on encountering for the first time the word " Chloe " in the pages of a book she was reading aloud, boldly pronounced it " Shaloo," to the great delight of all present. To this day we find it hard to conform to the ordinary method of pronouncing the word. "Jeopardy," again, If pronounced as it is spelt, is a much more impressive -word than in its three-syllabled form. Here the grotesque effect is arrived at, consciously or unconsciously, by the conscientious effort after accuracy. In other cases a contrary process produces the desired effect. The inability displayed by some persons to catch a sound correctly is perfectly astounding. As an American would say, they cannot get within a foot of the right word. It is hardly necessary to add that such persons do not make good linguists or musicians. But, on the other hand, excellent cooks and most intelligent gardeners are to be found amongst them. Only a few weeks ago, we heard some delightful instances of this word-torturing faculty as unconsciously practised by one of the former class. This good lady always spoke of " moustachio-nuts." Croquettes became "crocuses," and chervil "charcoal."
After all, the strangest forms of English are to be found in dictionaries, or, to be more explicit, in the English half of dictionaries compiled by assiduous foreigners. Polymeres' "English Modern Greek Lexicon" is a never-failing source of amusement to us. We cannot do better, in conclusion, than transcribe a few specimens of his skill. " Ghastful," " dortm.e," "doodle," "to conjobble," "to comperendinat,e," "to divell," " druggerman," "to geck," "to juke," "to loricate," " nitid," "pantofle," " papesc,ent," a " quoil," " snary," "to sneap," a "sorb," " woobub,"—all these and scores of similar outlandish forms will be found in the compilation of one who, as he puts it, received his education beneath the "brilliant and variegated sky" of America.
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