A Dictionary of Slang and its Analogues.
Reading edition

(vulgar)—[“ă” as in bat].—A common vulgarism in speaking for (1) “have,” (2) “I,” (3) “he,” (4) “at,” (5) “on,” etc. It occurs in these connections for more than 300 years; all were used by Shakspeare, as well as by Beaumont and Fletcher and other writers of the Elizabethan period.
A1 or A1 Copper-Bottomed, adj. phr. (popular).—Applied to men or things, A1 is synonymous with a high degree of praise. ‘He must be a first-rater,’ said Sam. ‘A1,’ replied Mr. Roker. [1837, Pickwick Papers.]
The derivation of this colloquialism from the symbols used in registering ships at Lloyd’s is pretty well known. Letters—A.A. (in black and red), Æ (in black), E, etc.—are employed to denote various degrees of excellence in the hulls of vessels, figures being added to show the quality of the equipments, such as masts and rigging in sailing vessels, or boilers and engines in steamers. When hull and fittings alike are of the best, a vessel is classed A1. Hence, in mercantile circles, the expression has become popularly current, in a figurative sense, to signify the highest commercial credit; and, by a process of expansion, excellence of quality in general, i.e., first-class; first-rate. The form varies, being rendered by first-class letter a; A1 copper-bottomed; and, in the U.S.A., A1 and no mistake. The earliest reference given in the New English Dictionary for the colloquially figurative usage bears date 1836, but it was employed at least two years previously in a quarter which seems definitely to fix, not only the period of its adoption, but the process of transition as well. A1 was a perfectly natural colloquialism in the hands of Captain Marryat, at once an experienced seaman and a practised writer.
1833. Marryat, Peter Simple, ch. xliii. ‘Broached molasses, cask No. 1, letter A.’
1876. C. Hindley, Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack, p. 229. ‘Here’s spoons for six, and tea and sugar for one. Sold again! and this time to my old sweetheart of all. She’s a prime girl, she is; she is a number one, copper-bottomed, and can sail as well in her stays as out of her stays; she is full rigged, and carries a lot of canvas. But I must not tell tales out of school.’
1882. Punch, lxxxii. 181, 1. In Vino (et cetera) Veritas. ‘What’s up, old man? You seem to be out of sorts!’ ‘Snappe’s been here. I begged him to give me his candid opinion about my pictures. He did!’ ‘Ah! I see! It differs from yours! Now when I want a fellow’s candid opinion about my pictures, I ask him to dinner, give him a first-rate bottle of claret, a cup of A1 coffee, a glass of old cognac, and the best cigar money can buy, and then I show him my pictures, and I always find that his candid opinion coincides with my own.’
Eng. Synonyms. All brandy; the pure quill; about East (American); about right; at par; the cheese; all there; bang up; a corker; up to Dick; downy; fizzing; that’s Bible; splash up; up to the nines; up to the knocker; down to the ground; slap up, etc.
French Synonyms. Abracadabrant, adj. (from Abracadabra); aux petits oignons (literally ‘like small onions.’ Cf., English, ‘like a thousand of bricks,’ and ‘like winkey’); bath (adj.: also bate. In Argot and Slang the origin of the term is thus stated:—Towards 1848 some Bath notepaper of superior quality was hawked about in the streets of Paris, and sold at a low price. Thus ‘papier bath’ became synonymous of (sic) excellent paper. In a short time the qualifying term alone remained and received a general application); arriver bon premier (literally ‘to arrive a good first’).
(Fenian).—Sometimes erroneously No. 1. In the copy of Hotten’s Slang Dictionary, annotated by H. J. Byron, the playwright, now in the British Museum, this is given as ‘a title for the commander of 900 men.’
Aaron, subs. (thieves’).—‘The Aaron,’ says H. O. Manton in Slangiana, ‘is the chief or captain of a gang or school of thieves. The title is invariably preceded by the prefix The—par excellence the first—similar to the eldest representatives of certain Irish and Scotch clans or families, such as The O’Connor Don, The Chisholm, etc. As Aaron was the first high priest … it is probably of Jewish origin in its slang application. An Aaron was an old cant term for one of a class of cadgers, who combined begging with acting as guide to the summits of mountains, chiefly to evade the laws against vagabondage, no doubt a play, in its slang sense, on its Hebrew equivalent, lofty.’ In this last connection a closer relationship probably exists than that just stated, inasmuch as Gesenius thinks that the Hebrew Aaron is a derivative of Hāron, a mountaineer. It is to be remarked that leaders of the church were also called Aarons.
A. B., or A. B. S. (commercial).—An able-bodied seaman.—See Bottle sucker.
1875. Chambers’ Journal, No. 627. Of all the European sailors by far the most reliable were five stalwart A.B’S.
Abaddon, subs. (old).—A thief who, to general nefarious practices, adds perfidy to his companions. Rarely, and perhaps only locally used. It is obviously derived from Abaddon, the destroyer or angel of the bottomless pit (Revelation ix., 11).
Abandannad, Abandannaad, subs. (thieves’).—1. A nearly obsolete term to designate primarily a pickpocket, whose chief quarry is pocket handkerchiefs or bandannas; and, hence
2. A petty thief, i.e., one whose depredations are regarded by the fraternity as not worth the risk incurred. Brewer writes down the word as a contraction of ‘a bandanna lad.’ With this derivation is connected the story of an incident said to have been a prime factor in the movement resulting in the passing of Sir Samuel Romilly’s Act for the abolition of capital punishment for highway robberies under 40s. value. Briefly told, it is that a footpad robbed a woman of a bandanna shawl, valued at 9d., an offence for which a notorious highwayman was hanged. Subsequently, however, he was proved to have been innocent, whereupon the fact of her mistaken accusation having done an innocent man to death so preyed upon the woman’s mind that she became raving mad. The incidents touched the public conscience, an agitation ensued, and the law was amended as stated.
Abandoned Habits, subs. phr. (popular).—The riding costumes of the ladies of the demi-monde in Hyde Park—(Slangiana). The punning and sufficiently obvious innuendo involved in the appellation hardly calls for further comment.—See Anonyma.
Abbess or Lady Abbess, subs. (old).—The keeper of a house of ill-fame; also a procuress. It has been suggested that the origin of this term for the mistress of a brothel, as also that of Abbot (q.v.), the name given to the male associate of the mistress, may be traced to the alleged illicit amours of Abelard and Héloïse. In this connection it is significant that, according to Francisque Michel’s Etudes Comparées sur l’Argot, a common woman was, in the old French cant, said to come from l’abbaye des s’offre à tous. The keeper of such an establishment was called l’abbesse, and her associate le sacristain. The analogy was carried still further, by the inmates being termed ‘nuns’ and ‘sisters of charity.’ This depravation in the meaning of words, usually applied only to the holders of sacred offices, may possibly, without undue license, be regarded as resulting from the mockery born of the degradation, in the popular mind, of the priestly office; or, it may naturally flow from the loose way in which the title of ‘abbot’ was often applied to the holders of non-monastic offices. Thus, the first step toward degeneration may have occurred in applying the term to the principal of a body of clergy, as an episcopal rector; or, as amongst the Genoese, to a chief magistrate. The second stage was reached when, in the middle ages, ‘abbot’ was applied ironically to the heads of various guilds and associations, and to the leaders in popular assemblages and disorderly festivities, e.g., the Abbot of Bell-ringers, the Abbot of Misrule, the Abbot of Unreason. Henceforward deterioration was both easy and rapid to the point when ‘abbot’ and its co-relative abbess, signified a steward and stewardess of the stews (q.v.). The terms are now obsolete on both sides of the Channel. In England the modern equivalent for abbess is mother (q.v.); and in France la maca, mère maca, la maquecée, or l’institutrice, do similar duty.
1782. Wolcot [P. Pindar], Odes to the Pope, Ode ii. in Works (Dublin, 1795), vol. II., p. 492.
So an old abbess, for the rattling rakes,
A tempting dish of human nature makes,
And dresses up a luscious maid.
1840. W. Kidd, London and all Its Dangers. The infernal wretches who traffic in the souls and bodies of their helpless victims are called lady abbesses.
Abbey Lubber, subs. phr. (old).—[From abbey + lubber.]
1. An old term of contempt for an able-bodied idler who grew sleek and fat upon the charity of religious houses; also sometimes, especially subsequent to the Reformation, applied to monks. In this sense it has long fallen into disuse.
1680. Dryden, Spanish Friar, III. 3. This is no huge, overgrown abbey lubber.
2. The term survives, however, and is still occasionally used by seafaring men, although ‘lubber’ is now more common amongst our Jack tars for a lazy, thriftless individual. If a sailor wishes to express the utmost scorn for laziness and meanness, he finds a very much more forcible expression in a ‘dirty dog and no sailor.’—See Lubbers’ hole.
Abbot, subs. (old).—The husband or ‘fancy man’ of an abbess (q.v.); now called a ponce (q.v.). In the old French argot these gentry were dignified by the title of sacristain. They were occasionally spoken of as croziered abbots, or abbots on the cross, in which case the establishments over which they mounted guard were not so much brothels as panel cribs (q.v.), where prostitution served mainly as a cloak for robbery.
Abbott’s Priory, subs. phr. (popular).—The King’s Bench Prison was formerly so-called; perhaps from Chief Justice Abbott.
Abbreviations.—These occasionally partake most clearly of the nature of slang. As illustrative examples may be mentioned:—K.D.Gs., the King’s, now the First Dragoon Guards.—O.K., all right; ‘orl krect.’—B.T.I., a big thing on ice.—Q.T., generally ‘on the strict Q.T.’, i.e., quiet.—T.T., too thin.—Cri., the Criterion (restaurant or theatre).—The Ox., the Oxford Music Hall.—Tec., detective.—B.P., British Public.—B. and S., brandy and soda.—P.D.Q., pretty d——d quick.
A. B. C.’s (London).—1. The Aërated Bread Co.’s establishments are, familiarly speaking, A. B. C.’s.
2. (Christ’s Hospital).—Ale, Bread and Cheese on ‘going home night.’
As easy as a. b. c., adv. phr. (popular).—Extremely facile; the acme of ease, i.e., from an adult’s point of view; children, however, probably view the matter in a different light. In this, as in much else, distance lends enchantment to the scene. This colloquialism is by no means of modern growth; Shakspeare speaks of answer ‘coming like A. B. C. book.’
A-Bear, v. (provincial and vulgar).—To suffer, or to tolerate. [From old English abearan, to bear or carry].—This term, though hoary with age, and long of honorable usage (from A.D. 885 downward), must now be classed with degenerate words, or at all events with non-literary English. Though still largely dialectical, its use amongst people of education is reckoned vulgar. It is now invariably employed in conjunction with ‘cannot’—‘I can’t abear furriners.’
Abelwhackets.—See Ablewhackets.
Aberdeen Cutlet, subs. phr. (familiar).—A dried haddock.—Cf., Billingsgate pheasant.
Abide, v. (vulgar).—To tolerate; to put up with. This, like abear (q.v.), has ancient sanction for its use. In the senses of to endure, suffer, bear, or sustain—meanings which are now obsolete—the word can be traced back as far as A.D. 1205; the modern vulgar usage, rarely employed affirmatively, dates from about A.D. 1526, when Tindale translated John viii. 43, by ‘He cannot abyde the hearyng of my words.’ Abide, therefore, may be classed amongst those words which, once respectable, have now fallen into disrepute. Shakspeare puts into the mouth of one of his characters a phrase which, to those acquainted with the speech of the uneducated classes, has a very modern appearance, ‘I cannot abide the smell of hot meat.’
Abigail, subs. (popular).—A lady’s maid. There can be little doubt that the familiar use of this name for the genus ‘waiting woman,’ was primarily an allusion to the title of handmaid assumed by Abigail, the wife of Nabal, in speaking to the servants of King David. ‘Behold, let thine handmaid be a servant to wash the feet of the servants of my Lord’ (1 Sam. xxv. 41). Other names recorded in the Bible, and for the matter of that elsewhere, have been used much in the same way as marking distinctive character. Abigail has thus become associated with the idea of a female servant; so, too, a giant is spoken of as a Goliath; a patient man as a Job; a shrew as a Jezebel; a coward as a Bob Acres, cum multis aliis. In Beaumont and Fletcher’s comedy of The Scornful Lady (1616), one of the characters, Mrs. Youngton, a ‘waiting gentlewoman,’ is named Abigail. This play, having a long run of public favour,—Pepys in his Diary [1666], iv. 195, specially mentions it,—possibly led to the popularization of the nickname. At all events it subsequently appeared on more than one occasion in the same connection in the plays of the period. There is no reason to suppose that the term was derived from the notorious Abigail Hill, better known as Mrs. Masham, a poor relative of the Duchess of Marlborough, by whom she was introduced to a subordinate place about the person of Queen Anne; nor will the contention that it was first established in public usage by Dean Swift, who employed it in a letter to Stella, hold good; although likely enough he caused it to take deeper root than before. The terms on which he was with the Mashams rendered him the last person in the world likely to have used such a term, unless it had been so long in familiar use as to be deprived of all appearance of personal allusion to them.
1663. T. Killigrew, Parson’s Wedding, II., vi. in Dodsley, O.P. (1780), xi., 425. [In this play, a waiting woman is termed an Abigail.]
1750. Fielding, Tom Jones, book XI., ch. ii. The mistress was no sooner in bed than the maid prepared to follow her example. She began to make many apologies to her sister Abigail for leaving her alone in so horrid a place as an inn.
1858. G. Eliot, Mr. Gilfil’s Love-Story, ch. iii. The next morning, Mrs. Sharp, then a blooming Abigail of three-and-thirty, entered her lady’s private room.
It has been stated that Old English writers used the word Abigail to signify a termagant woman, and also a female bigamist, but there is no evidence to support these views. It may be mentioned that the French use the word in the popular English sense. A waiting woman was also formerly called a comb-brush (q.v.).
Ablewhackets, also Abelwhackets, Abelwackets, subs. (nautical).—[From able (uncertain, perhaps alluding to able seaman) + whack]. A game of cards played by sailors, in which the loser receives a whack or blow with a knotted handkerchief for every game (or point) he loses. Smyth, in his Sailor’s Word Book [1867], says it is very popular with horny-fisted salts. It is quoted by Grose as far back as 1785, but Clark Russell, in Sailor’s Language [1883], refers to it as obsolete.
Abound, v. (American).—To be prominent; en évidence.
1873. Evening Standard, 28 January. When we are told of a professed wit more than usually abounding at an evening party, there is no temptation to recruit our dictionaries from the English manufactured in the United States.
About East, adv. phr. (American).—To the frontiersman or pioneer, the Eastern or New England States are typical of all that he cherishes most and loves best. The vicissitudes of his rough Western life, the toil and hardships he has undergone while battling with nature and building up a new habitation far from the old homestead, all predispose him to turn with longing eyes and undying, though quaintly exaggerated love to the East—the home of his fathers. A famous Yankee character (Major Jack Downing) makes use of the expression that he would ‘Go East of sunrise any day to see sich a place.’ Everybody and everything connected with the East, i.e., his native land, is commendable. To his mind they cannot be surpassed—hence the things he would hold up to admiration he says are about East, i.e., ‘about right.’ Indeed, it is surprising what a strong hold this idea has upon the minds of men. Many a familiar phrase recalls the old times and the old folks to memory, which, in this respect, is evergreen. They talk of going down East, that is, to New England, while the Down-Easter is neither more nor less than the pure and veritable Yankee.—Farmer’s Americanisms, Old and New.
About Right, adv. phr. (vulgar).—Correctly; to the purpose; properly—general satisfaction on the part of the speaker concerning a given thing or action. ’Arry sometimes varies the locution by ter rights (q.v.).
1850. F. E. Smedley, Frank Fairleigh, ch. iv. ‘You’re about right, there, Mr. Lawless; you’re down to every move, I see, as usual.’
1883. Hawley Smart, Hard Lines, ch. xxii. ‘I am afraid your schemes went a little awry yesterday,’ observed Mrs. Daventry.… ‘You’re about right; they did.’
About the Size of It, adv. phr. (American).—1. An expression covering a wide field—assent, general satisfaction, approval, etc. Synonymous with about right; o.k.; ter rights, etc.
2. Used also for ‘how’; ‘how much,’ etc.—a measure of quantity or quality.
1876 (?). James Greenwood, New ‘Roughs’ Guide’ in ‘Odd People in Odd Places.’ Got no home, no wittles, and never a ’a’penny to buy none with. That’s about the size of how destitoot we are, sir.
1881. Punch, May 14, p. 228. Sir G[orgius] M[idas] goes in for Culture. “Look ’ere, Clarke. ‘Appy thought! I’ll make this little room the libery, you know; ’ave a lot o’ books. Mind you order me some.’ ‘Yes, Sir Gorgius. What sort of books shall I order?’ ‘Oh, the best, of course, with binding and all that to match!’ ‘Yes, Sir Gorgius, how many shall I order?’ ‘Well,—let me see,—suppose we say a couple o’ ’undred yards of ’em, hay? That’s about the size of it, I think.”
Above Board, adv. phr. (common).—Without disguise or concealment; with an absence of artifice. Jamieson refers this to the language of the gaming table, the players when changing cards putting their hands on, i.e., above the table or board to ensure fair dealing. It appears, however, even in its figurative sense to be a colloquialism of long standing.—See Murray’s New English Dictionary.
Above One’s Bend, adv. phr. (American).—See Bend.
Above Par, adv. phr. (familiar).—Used figuratively in a multitude of senses, e.g. (1) in reference to one’s health or spirits, in good condition; (2) applied to a man in liquor it signifies a state of moderate drunkenness; or (3) used in regard to pecuniary matters it is synonymous with being ‘flush,’ having ‘the needful’—‘best bliss of earth,’ as Duncombe puts it. Derived from the technical, commercial meaning. Stocks are said to be at par when purchasable at their ‘face’ value; when at a premium they are above par; and when selling at a decline in value, i.e., at a discount, they are said to be below par; hence the colloquial usage. See example in quotation. Synonyms, up to, or above the mark.
1880. Punch, June 5, p. 253. Fred on Pretty Girls and Pictures.
Awful fellow that Ted at his letters!—he writes for the Scanmag, you know;
And his style never falls below ‘par.’ Not my joke, heard him putting it so——.
And the pars in the Scanmag—he does them—are proper, and chock full of ‘go.’
Only paper I care to grind through, never preachy, or gushing, or slow!
Abracadabra, subs. (scientific jargon).——1.—A cabalistic word used in incantations. When written in a manner similar to that shown in accompanying diagram, so as to be read in different directions, and worn as an amulet, it was supposed to cure certain ailments.
A B R A C A D A B R A A B R A C A D A B R A B R A C A D A B A B R A C A D A A B R A C A D A B R A C A A B R A C A B R A A B R A B A
Hence (2), any word-charm, empty jingle of words, gibberish, nonsense, or extravagant idea. Littré’s derivation from the Hebrew—ab father, mach spirit, and dabar word—is regarded by many authorities as fanciful; as also is T. A. G. Balfour’s reference of it to a composition of the first letters of the Hebrew words signifying ‘Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.’ Other authorities, though by no means in accord, generally agree that a Persian origin is the most likely. Mr. R. S. Charnock (Notes and Queries, 7 S., iii., 504) thinks it related to the cabalistic word abraxas composed of the Greek letters α, β, ρ, α, ξ, α, ς, making, according to the Greek numeration, the number 365.
Des auteurs beaucoup plus anciens n’ont vu dans le mot abraxas, qu’une réunion des lettres numériques, qui étant additionées donnent le nombre 365, ou l’année entière, en sorte qu’ abraxas serait le symbole du soleil ou de sa révolution annuelle presumée.—Depping.
In Persian, according to Grotenford, abraxas means the ‘Sun God’; if this be so its use as a talisman is easily understood. Yet another derivation is from a corrupt form of the Hebrew—dabar is verbū, and abraca is benedixit, i.e., verbum benedixit. If, however, the word is Semitic at all, and nothing more than an unintelligible jargon of letters, it could possibly be better explained than by Littré, by Abra(i) seda bra(i), ‘Out, bad spirit, out!’ as a magic formula for driving out the demon which causes the fever. It is interesting in this connection to compare Mark i. 25, ix. 25, and parallel passages.
1687. Aubrey’s Remaines of Gentilisme, p. 124 (1881). [In this work abracadabra is given arranged as a spell.]
1711. Spectator, No. 221. They [the signatures] are, perhaps, little amulets or charms to preserve the paper against the fascination and malice of evil eyes; for which reason I would not have my reader surprised, if hereafter he sees any of my papers marked with a Q, a Z, a Y, an &c., or with the word abracadabra.
1722. Defoe, Journal of the Plague (ed. Brayley, 1835, p. 56). ‘This mysterious word, which, written in the form of a triangle or a pyramid, was regarded as a talisman or charm of wonderful power, is said to have been the name of a Syrian god, whose aid was considered to be invoked by the wearers of the amulet. It originated in the superstitions of a very remote period, and was recommended as an antidote by Serenus Sammonicus, a Roman physician, who lived in the early part of the third century, in the reigns of the emperors Severus and Caracalla. Its efficacy was reputed to be most powerful in agues and other disorders of a febrile kind, and particularly against the fever called by the physicians Hemitritæus.’
1879. Literary World, 5 Dec., p. 358, col. 2 [m]. The new abracadabra of science, ‘organic evolution.’
Abraham, subs. (popular).—A clothier’s shop of the lowest description, where slop-made garments of shoddy cloth form the staple commodity together with second-hand clothes or hand-me-downs (q.v.). Chiefly localized in the East End of London, where these establishments are kept by Jews; hence probably the derivation of the term; adj. (old cant).—See Abram.
Abraham-Cove, Abraham-Man, Abram-Cove, Abram-Man, Tom of Bedlam’s Man, or Bedlam Beggar, subs. (old cant).—It is difficult now-a-days to trace with certainty the origin of these terms, notwithstanding a wealth of matter on the subject. Nares describes the fraternity as a set of vagabonds who wandered about the country soon after the dissolution of the religious houses: the provision for the poor in those places being cut off and no other substituted. Thus, primarily, an Abraham-man was a vagabond, a beggar—tattered, unwashed, unkempt—and a thief withal. ‘What an Abram!’ an exclamation for a naked fellow. Harman, the earliest authority, refers to them as feigning madness (see quot.), and as having been resident in Bethlehem Hospital. Wards in the ancient Bedlam bore distinctive names of some saint or patriarch; that named after Abraham was devoted to a class of mendicant lunatics, who on certain days were permitted to go out begging. It is an open question whether the ward gave the name to the men or vice versâ. In either case, however, the use of the term ‘Abraham’ is in this connection possibly an allusion to the beggar Lazarus in Luke xvii. These mendicants bore a badge, but many assumed the distinction without right, and begged feigning lunacy. Hence, it may be, the more popular signification of the term—
2. An impostor, wandering about the country pretending to be mad, begging in the streets, and laying hands upon all trifles ‘considered’ or ‘unconsidered’ in his way. Dekker, in his English Villanies [1632], has many curious particulars of the habits of this class of impostors who were said to sham Abraham. Shakspeare also, in King Lear [1605], Act ii., Scene 3, describes and puts into the mouth of one of these characters the following words:
… the basest and most poorest shape,
That ever penury in contempt of man,
Brought near to beast: my face I’ll grime with filth;
Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots;
And with presented nakedness outface
The winds, and persecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numb’d and mortified bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;
And with this horrible object, from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes and mills,
Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers,
Enforce their charity.
The term is now obsolete, though Scott used it as late as 1824, and from the Quarterly Review (1813), IX., p. 167, it seems to have then been in pretty general use. The modern prototype is called a tramp or cadger. To sham Abraham, i.e., to feign sickness or distress is, however, still in vogue. The French equivalent is Fagotin (m).—See also Abraham sham and Abram.
1573. Harman, Caveat (1814), p. 29. These Abraham men be those that fayn themselves to have bene mad, and have bene kept either in Bethlehem, or in some other pryson a good time, and not one amongst twenty that ever came in prison for any such cause.
1625. Massinger, New Way to Pay Old Debts, II., i. Are they padders or Abram-men that are your consorts?
1724. E. Coles, Eng. Dict. Abram cove, naked or poor man.
1825. Scott, St. Ronan’s Well, ch. xxi. ‘There is a trick for you to find an Abram-man, and save sixpence out when he begs of you as a disbanded seaman.’
Abraham Grains, subs. (thieves’).—A publican who brews his own beer.
Abraham Newland, subs. (popular).—A bank note. Abraham Newland was chief cashier to the Bank of England, from 1778 to 1807.
1829. Sir W. Scott, letter to Croker in Croker Papers, vol. II., p. 36. A bank note seems to terrify everybody out of their wits, and they will rather give up their constitution to Hunt and Cobbett than part with an Abraham Newland to preserve it.
Abraham’s Balsam, subs. (old).—Death by hanging.—See To die in one’s boots.
Abraham Sham, subs. (old cant).—1.—Feigned sickness or distress. See Abraham-man. Usually spoken of as to sham Abraham, or Abram (q.v.). From this primary meaning, joined with an allusion to the name of a once well-known chief cashier of the Bank of England, was derived the secondary meaning of the term shamming Abraham, to forge bank-notes. Abraham Newland was in office in the years 1778–1807, and a popular song of the period ran as follows:
‘I have heard people say that sham Abraham you may,
But you mustn’t sham Abraham Newland.’
Further point is added to this stanza by the fact that bank notes were themselves termed Abraham Newlands (q.v.), and that forgery was felony by statute.
1759. Goldsmith, Citizen of the World, cxix. “He swore that I understood my business perfectly well, but that I shammed Abraham merely to be idle.”
1849. C. Bronté, Shirley, ch. xxxiii. Matthew, sceptic and scoffer, had already failed to subscribe a prompt belief in that pain about the heart; he had muttered some words, amongst which the phrase shamming Abraham had been very distinctly audible.
Abraham Suit, subs. phr. (thieves’).—False pretences; fraudulent representations to excite sympathy. The term is applied to any trick or artifice calculated to extract money from the charitable, whether by means of begging letter, a faked-up appearance, or other contrivance. Those who resort to such practices are said to go on the Abraham suit. Cf., Abraham sham.
Abraham’s Willing, subs. phr. (rhyming slang).—A shilling.
Abraham Work, subs. phr. (popular).—Shams of all kinds are so designated, from a bubble company down to the most trumpery ‘city pen’orth.’
Abram, subs. (old and also modern sea slang).—1. The same as Abraham-man (q.v.).—2. A malingerer; one who gets put on the sick list to shirk work.
Adj. (old cant).—1. Mad.
1610. Rowlands, Martin Mark-all, p. 36 (H. Club’s Repr., 1874). Abram madde. He maunds Abram, he begs as a madde man.
2. Naked, ‘she’s all Abram.’
1671. R. Head, English Rogue, part I., ch. v., p. 47 (1874). Abram, naked.
3. Abram or Abram coloured (old).—Derivation uncertain, but supposed to be a corruption of ‘auburn.’ In this connection it may be remarked that it is to be found in Coriolanus, Act II., scene 3; but where the original reads Abram the folio has ‘auburn.’ To sham Abram, verb (old).—Also see Abraham sham.—The original signification of this word, to feign sickness, led to its use to describe pretence of any kind; this is specially the case amongst sailors, workmen, etc., who describe malingering as doing Abram, the defaulter also being called by the same name.
Abregoyns, Abergoins, Abrogans, subs. (American).—Vulgarisms for ‘aborigines.’
Abridgments, subs. (nonce word).—Knee breeches. This term for small clothes appears in Bulwer Lytton’s comedy, Money.
1840. Bulwer Lytton, Money, iv. 4. Frantz (producing a pair of small clothes, which Toke examines). Your master is von beggar, etc. Toke. I accept the abridgements, but you’ve forgotten to line the pockets.
Abroad, adv. (old).—1. Confused; staggered; perplexed. More generally retained in this sense in America than in England.
2. (popular).—Generally all abroad; i.e., wide of the mark; wrong; uncertain in one’s estimate; or, ‘all at sea.’ In this figurative sense the expression is much older than is popularly supposed.—See Bedoozled.
1821. The Fancy, vol. I., p. 255. In the fourth round he came in all abroad, and got a doubler in the bread-basket, which spoiled him for the remainder of the fight.
1840. Dickens, Old Curiosity Shop, ch. lxi. ‘My friend!’ repeated Kit, ‘You’re all abroad, seemingly,’ returned the other man. ‘There’s his letter, take hold.’
1846. Thackeray, V. Fair, ch. v. At the twelfth round the latter champion was all abroad, as the saying is, and had lost all presence of mind, and power of attack or defence.
3. To be transported. The French have a similar circumlution, aller en traverse, and the Italian Fourbesque has andar a traverso.
4. (Win. Coll.)—A boy returning to school work after being ill is said to come abroad. When on the sick list he is continent (q.v.) i.e., continens cameram, vel lectum, keeping his room or bed. When recovered he is allowed to go foris, out of doors, or more colloquially, abroad. Adams, in Wykehamica, remarks that the use of this term shows the antiquity of the school, dating as it does from the times of the ‘patrium sermonem fugito, Latinum exerceto, of the Tabula legum.’ To be furked abroad is a less complimentary term implying that a ‘man’ has been ‘shuffling’; it is specially applied to those who having ‘gone continent’ in the morning are sent back to school by the doctor at 9 a.m.
Abroaded (society).—See quotation, and compare with abroad.
1876. H. O. Manton, Slangiana, p. 11 (See Bibliography). Fashionable slang for a noble defaulter on the Continent (sic) to avoid creditors. It is the police official slang for convicts sent to a colonial or penal settlement, but it is applied by thieves to transportation either at home or in the Colonies.
Abs (Win. Coll.)—1. An abbreviation of ‘absent’ placed against the name of a boy when absent from the school.
2. v. tr., to take away. Formerly, circa, 1840, to abs a tolly (candle), meant to put it out; now it would mean to take it away whether lighted or unlighted, the modern ‘notion’ for putting it out being to ‘dump’ it.
3. v. n. To get away; generally used in the imperative, as, ‘abs!’ ‘Oh! do abs!’ Sometimes, however, a fellow is said to abs quickly, and mess things (q.v.) are absed (trans.), or put away.
4. To have one’s wind absed is to have it taken away by a violent blow in the stomach.
Abscotchalater, subs. (thieves’).—Quoted by H. O. Manton in Slangiana as ‘one who is hiding away from the police.’ Cf., Absquatulate.
Absence, subs. (Eton).—Names-calling, which takes place at 3 p.m. and 6 p.m. on half-holidays; and at 11.30 a.m., 3 p.m., and 6 p.m. on whole holidays; at 6 p.m. only in summer half.
Absent Without Leave, adv. phr. (thieves’).—Said of one who has broken prison; or (popular) absconded.
Absit, subs. (Cambridge).—See quotation.
1886. Dickens’s Dictionary of the University of Cambridge, p. 3. Every undergraduate wishing to leave Cambridge for a whole day, not including a night, must obtain an ‘absit’ from his tutor. Permission to go away for a longer period, either at the end of the term or in the middle, is called an ‘exeat,’ and no undergraduate should go down without obtaining his ‘exeat.’
Abskize, Abschize, v. (American).—To depart; go away. Said to be of Western origin, and to have been in use about 1883. Of rare and probably local usage. It has been derived from the Dutch afscheyden; Ger. abscheiden of similar meaning; a not unlikely origin, bearing in mind the large Dutch and German element in the U.S.A.
Absquatulate, also Absquotilate, v. (American).—To run away; to decamp; with the more or less forcible idea of absconding in disgrace. A factitious word, of American origin and jocular use, simulating a Latin form, perhaps from Latin ab and squat, i.e., to settle on land, especially public or new lands, without any title or right whether of purchase or permission, though in Australia the term is employed in a more restricted sense for a sub-lessee of the government at a nominal rent. It was first used by Mr. Hackett, as Nimrod Wildfire, a Kentucky character, in a play called ‘The Kentuckian,’ by Bernard, produced in 1833. It is now less often heard than formerly, having been replaced in some degree by the word skedaddle (q.v.). For synonyms, see Amputate one’s mahogany.
1835–1840. Haliburton, Clockmaker, 3 S., ch. xiv. ‘What’s the use of legs but to absquotilate with … when traps are sot for you.’
1879. Punch, Jan. 18, p. 23, col. 1. The Reward of Merit. Mrs. Lyon Hunter, ‘How do you do, Mr. Brown? Let me present you to the Duchess of Stilton! Your Grace, permit me to present to you Mr. Brown, the distinguished scholar!’ Her Grace (affably). ‘Charmed to make your acquaintance—er—Mr. Brown!’ Mr. Brown (with effusion). ‘Your Grace is really too kind. This is the ninth time I’ve enjoyed the distinction of being presented to your Grace within the last twelve months; but it’s a distinction I value so highly, that without trespassing too much on your Grace’s indulgence, I hope I may be occasionally permitted to enjoy it again.’ [Bows, and absquatulates.]
1884. Daily Telegraph, August 20, p. 6, col. 1. Yet who knows but that some day an accident may happen to the Aberdeenshire works of art … the sense of the cartoons be totally subverted—in Rabelaisian phrase, ‘absquashed and absquatulated.’
Academician, subs. (old).—The inmate of a brothel.
Academy, subs. (old).—1. A disorderly house; a brothel; a bagnio. Grose remarks that these establishments were also called pushing schools. The old brothels have of late years rapidly disappeared, their places being taken by what are known as bed houses (q.v.). These vary in character as regards style, equipment, and cost, but of whatever grade, rooms may be had for longer or shorter periods as required. The French call them maisons de societé; maisons de passe; foutoirs, and gros numéros, the last from the fact, that these semi-private brothels bear a number of large dimensions over the entrance. The French have also a somewhat analogous term for the mistress of an académie in l’institutrice, the teacher. In the finishing academy (q.v.) the inmates are young prostitutes, the next stage in whose downward career is taken on the streets.
2. According to the N.Y. Slang Dictionary, a penitentiary or prison for minor offences.
3. A thieves’ school; also a band of thieves. There are establishments of similar character bearing more distinctive names, e.g.:
4. Buzzing Academy (thieves’).—A school for thieves, chiefly boys. Fagan, the old Jew in Oliver Twist, will occur to mind, as also the devices by which he taught his gang to pick pockets and pilfer adroitly.
5. Canting Academy (vagrants’).—A house of call or common lodging house, frequented by the fraternity; a cadger’s dossing ken. The term is also applied to any house where application for food or money is likely to be successful. At the regular ‘beggar’s house’—establishments which abound more or less in every town—information can be obtained so that the district can be thoroughly and systematically ‘worked.’
6. Character Academy.—At these places false characters are drawn up, to say nothing of the concoction of schemes of robbery.
7. Floating Academy (thieves’).—The hulks or prison ships were formerly so-called. When the regulations as regards transportation were relaxed, convicts condemned to hard labour were sent on board these vessels.
8. Gammoning Academy.—A reformatory.
Acause, conj. (vulgar).—A corruption of ‘because.’
Accommodation House, subs. (popular).—A brothel. Also frequently applied to what in police court phraseology are known as disorderly houses, i.e., houses where rooms can be hired for shorter or longer periods as desired.—See Bed house.
According to Cocker.—See Cocker.
According to the Revised Statutes.—See Revised statutes.
Account. To go on the account, verb. phr. (old nautical).—To join in a fillibustering or buccaneering expedition; to turn pirate. Ogilvie says, probably from the parties sharing, as in a commercial venture.
1812. Scott, Letter to a Friend. I hope it is no new thing for gentlemen of fortune who are going on the account to change a captain now and then.
To account for (sporting).—To kill; literally to be answerable for bringing down one’s share of the shooting; to make away with.
1846–48. Thackeray, Vanity Fair, ch. xx. The persecuted animals [rats] bolted above ground: the terrier accounted for one, the keeper for another.
1858. Letter from Lahore, 28 September, in Times, 19 November. In the course of one week they were hunted up and accounted for; and you know that in Punjab phraseology accounting for means the extreme fate due to mutineers. [M.]
Accounts. To cast up one’s accounts, verb. phr. (old cant).—To vomit. Still common; quoted by Grose [1785]. The expression sometimes runs, amongst seafaring men, to audit one’s accounts at the Court of Neptune.
Eng. Synonyms. To shoot the cat; to cat.
French Synonyms. Semer des miettes (lit. to sow or scatter crumbs); piquer le renard (lit. to goad the fox). Cf. ‘to shoot the cat.’ The old French phrase was chasser or escorcher le renard, either because, says Cotgrave, ‘in spueing one makes a noise like a fox that barks, or because the flaying of so unsavory an animal will make any man spue’; renverser (lit. to overturn, to upset); faire restitution (lit. to make amends; to restore); revoir la carte (lit. to look at the bill of fare again).
(Thieves’).—To turn Queen’s evidence.
Accumulatives, subs. (American).—These journalistic sparring matches are essentially a ‘Yankee notion.’ In England they are called codicils (q.v.), under which see an amusing example which will illustrate their character, as also the length to which American editors sometimes go in heaping Ossa upon Pelion.
Accumulator, subs. (racing).—A bettor, who when successful with one horse, carries forward the stakes to another event.
Ace of Spades, subs. phr. (old).—A widow. Though obsolete in England, it is quoted by the New York Slang Dictionary (1881) as still current in America.
Ack, intj. (Christ’s Hospital).—No! refusal of a request, e.g., ‘Lend me your book.’ ‘Ack!’
Ackman, Ackpirate (old), Or Ackruff (American), subs.—A freshwater thief; a ruffian who in conjunction with watermen robs and sometimes murders on the water. [Ack (unknown derivation, unless a corrupted form of ark, a boat; or wherry) + man, etc.] Quoted by Grose [1785], and also by Clark Russell, in Sailor’s Language [1883].
Acknowledge the Corn, verb. phr. (American).—To make an admission of failure; to admit being outwitted. The various stories professing to account for derivation are discussed in detail in Americanisms, Old and New: the most circumstantial and certainly the best authenticated, runs as follows:—In 1828, the Hon. Andrew Stewart was in Congress discussing the principle of ‘Protection,’ and said in the course of his remarks, that Ohio, Indiana, and Kentucky sent their haystacks, cornfields, and fodder to New York and Philadelphia for sale. The Hon. Charles A. Wickliffe, from Kentucky, jumped up and said, ‘Why that is absurd; Mr. Speaker, I call the gentleman to order. He is stating an absurdity. We never send haystacks or cornfields to New York or Philadelphia.’ ‘Well, what do you send?’ ‘Why, horses, mules, cattle, hogs.’ ‘Well, what makes your horses, mules, cattle, hogs? You feed a hundred dollars’ worth of hay to a horse, you just animate and get upon the top of your haystack and ride off to market. How is it with your cattle? You make one of them carry fifty dollars’ worth of hay and grass to the Eastern market. Mr. Wickliffe, you send a hog worth ten dollars to an Eastern market; how much corn does it take at thirty-three cents per bushel to fatten it?’ ‘Why, thirty bushels!’ ‘Then you put that thirty bushels of corn into the shape of a hog, and make it walk off to the Eastern market.’ Mr. Wickliffe jumped up and said: ‘Mr. Speaker, I acknowledge the corn.’ [De Vere’s Americanisms [1872] p. 47.] Latterly the expression has been used in England in the sense of simply to make an admission.
1860. Haliburton (Sam Slick), The Season Ticket, No. 9. ‘He had a beard that wouldn’t acknowledge the corn to no man’s.’
1865. Bacon, Handbook of America, p. 361. Acknowledge the corn, to confess a charge or imputation.
1883. G. A. Sala, Living London, p. 97. Mr. Porter acknowledges the corn as regards his fourteen days’ imprisonment, and is forgiven by his loving consort.
Acorn. A horse foaled of an acorn, subs. phr. (old).—The gallows. Euphemisms for hanging, the ‘tree’ itself, and the victim of the law’s majesty were, at the time when the death penalty was a common punishment, both many and curious. A horse foaled of an acorn, is obviously an allusion to the timber of which the triple tree (q.v.) was constructed. The widows of those who had suffered the extreme penalty of the law were termed hempen widows (q.v.); the children of such, or those likely to meet with death by hanging, hempseed (q.v.); and hempen fever (q.v.) represented the dread malady itself.
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.