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3394074Studies in Lowland Scots1909James Colville

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​

STUDIES IN LOWLAND SCOTS

​

printed by
william green and sons
edinburgh

August 1909

​

Facsimile of Gothic Codex Argenteus.

MATT. VI. 13–15.

​

STUDIES

IN

LOWLAND SCOTS

BY

JAMES COLVILLE
M. A., D. Sc., in Comp. Phil. (Edin.)

AUTHOR OF
"By-ways of History." Edin.: Douglas
"Some Old-fashioned Educationists." Edin.: Green

EDITOR OF
"Cockburn Letters" and "Ochtertyre House Book" (Scott. Hist. Soc., Vols. 45 and 55)

CONTRIBUTOR OF
Art. "Scotland" to "Social England," 6 Vols. Cassells

WITH FOUR PLATES

EDINBURGH AND LONDON
WILLIAM GREEN AND SONS
1909

​

INTRODUCTION

These "Studies," as the title indicates, lay no claim to be a final or exhaustive treatment of the Scots vernacular in respect of its origin, character, and contents. They are the outcome of an early and sustained predilection for the subject, and testify to an interest in it not alone on its linguistic side, but also as illuminating the track of racial culture. The bulk of the matter has, from time to time, appeared in contributions to the Royal Philosophical Society of Glasgow and to the "Glasgow Herald," to both of which I shall ever owe a debt of gratitude. Its appearance in its present form is due to the support and countenance of the Carnegie Trust, which is doing so much for original research that would otherwise remain little more than a personal hobby.

It would be a scholarly and patriotic task to trace the historical development and decline of the Scots vernacular, and to base, on an analysis of its literary remains on the one hand and of its living usages on the other, a scientific statement of its morphology and phonology, and of its affinities and characteristics. But I have contented myself with opening up, in independent fashion, suggestive lines of investigation, and with the recording of words and features now fast passing out of recognition. Within the peculiarly debatable sphere of the history of the words referred to, the interpretations offered are tentative and in no sense final. The text was first completed from my own point of view and resources, but I have taken the opportunity in the "Glossary" of checking all such statements, and frankly indicating any divergence these present from the conclusions of recognised authorities. It is hoped that the text will be read in the light of this annotated "Glossary."

Though the work has been presented in a series of "Studies," it is hoped that the reader will not fail to see in the whole a unity of design. Nothing has been introduced which had not naturally a place within the central theme—the antiquity, continuity and persistency of the Scots vernacular. With this principle in view such apparently remotely connected subjects as Aryan Culture and the Gothic Gospels have been treated at length. The former places the Scots vernacular within the ​great Indo–Germanic unity of speech; the latter shows its unmistakable kinship with a band of brothers, following a serious, rural life so remote in time and space as Bulgaria in the fourth century of our era. The treatment is novel in so far as it is done from this Scots point of view. While we are all Indo–Germanic, it is impossible to affirm, in any precise sense, that the Lowland Scot is a lineal descendant of the Moeso–Goth, but what I have tried to make good is, that the speech of Bishop Wulfila's flock is as intelligible to the Scot now as, say, that of the Cumberland dalesman. Among the Low-German tribes—Dutch, Frisian, Norse—who must have early made themselves free of both shores of the North Sea, I do not venture to affirm which formed the link of connection and blood-brotherhood between Lowlander and Goth. That there was such a vital link is indubitable on the evidence of speech. Within these extremes will be found a mass of illustrative matter drawn from comparison with the kindred dialects of Cumberland and the Scots Border, and from the South African Taal, which has preserved so much of what was once the common stock of shrewd, Bible and home-loving Hollander and Scot.

Finally, and forming the kernel of the whole, the section entitled "Field Philology" gathers up the reminiscences, in phrase, folklore, and social customs, of a mid-Victorian rural Scotland at a time when home industries still lived, when railways were a wonder, and scientific inventions a dream. Here will be found much in idiom and vocable that has never yet been recorded.

To the genuinely patriotic Scot, at home and abroad, I venture to appeal for recognition of the fact that this is, at least, a praiseworthy effort to preserve somewhat of his rare bi-lingual inheritance, and to offer an incentive to kindred workers in the field. Nor should it fail to interest also the student of English, which, on historical lines, owes so much to comparison with Northern speech. Such comparison the philological expert might also fitly welcome as the true method of scientific progress.

James Colville.

14 Newton Place,
Glasgow, August 1909.

​

CONTENTS, SOURCES, AND AUTHORITIES CONSULTED

I.—THE DAWN, 1–58

1. Codex Argenteus and its Story, 1–2; Bishop Wulfila and his Work, 2–4; The Goths in History, 4–7; Their Place in the Indo–Eur. Family, Grimm's Law, 7–9; Gothic and Runes, 9–11; Gothic Phonology, 11–14; Lacunæ in the Go. MSS., 15; Social Life of the Goths in their Vocables, 15–28—(a) Personal Environment, 16–19, (b) Natural Environment, 19–21, (c) Activities, 22–28; Survivals in Sc., Eng. and Ger., 28–34; Value of Gothic in Compar. Grammar, specially for Scots, 34–42.

2. Specimens of Wulfila's "Gospels"—Grammatical Introduction, 43–46; Transliteration of Mark iv. 1–10, 46–48; Same Passage in Lowland Scots of 1520, 49; Luke ii. 4–20, 49–52; Same Passage in Lowland Scots, 52–3; Luke xv. 11–32, 53–56; Same Passage in Lowland Scots, 56–58.

Sources, &c.:—Stamm's Ulfilas, Text. Wörterbuch u. Grammatik neu herausgegeben von Dr. Moritz Heyne, 1872. Gotische Grammatik mit einigen Lesestücken u. Wortverzeichnis von Wilhelm Braune, 1887. Moeso–Gothic Glossary and Grammar by Professor Skeat, 1868. Moeso–Gothic Gospel of St. Mark by Professor Skeat (Clar. Press). Introduction to the Gothic of Ulfilas, 1886. Bosworth—Gothic, A. Saxon, Wyclif and Tyndale's Gospels. Purvey's Revision of Wycliffe's Version turned into Scots by Murdoch Nisbet, c. 1520, ed. T. G. Law, LL. D. (Scott. Text Soc.). Die Vier Evangelien in Alt Nordhumbrischer Sprache von Bouterwek, 1857. Die Heliand (Saviour) oder das Lied vom Leben Jesu, Köne, 1855.

II.—IN DECADENCE, 59–108

1. Scots Vernacular on its Literary Side, 59–63; Survival in Dialect, 63–66; in Proverbial Sayings, 66–71; in Law and Church Life, 71–76.

2. Scots and English, 76–95; English and Scots contrasted in Phonetics, 78–84; in Vocables, 84–87; in Grammar and Idiom, 87–95.

3. Dialect and Vernacular compared, 95–99; Lowland Dialects and their Study, 99–101; Scots in the English Dialect Diet, 101–104; Misinterpretations of Scots Scholars, 104–108; Contrast with the Intelligent Foreigner, 108.

Sources:—Author's Observation and Reading. Quotations from Sir J. Murray's "Dialects of the South of Scotland," and Stevenson's "Underwoods."
​

III.—FIELD PHILOLOGY, 109–164

1. Village Life in Fifeshire, 109–141; Influence of Books and Education on a Vernacular, 109–113; A Campbeltown Ballad, 113–116; Dialect of the "Kailyard," 117–8; Village Sketch in Time and Place, 118–121; the Natural, Human Boy's Attitude to Rural Life, 121–125; the Skylark, 126; Pleasures of Garden, Play, and Farmyard, 126–133; Pleasures of Winter Evenings, 133–136; Social Virtues and Manners, 136–139; Results and Lessons, 139–141.

2. Farm Life in Moray, 141–164; Value of Field Philology, 141–143; Scene of Sketch, 143–145; Farm Work, 145–6; Domestic Animals, 147–8; Plant and Animal Names, 148–9; Social Life, 149–153; Folklore, 154–156; Ross Narrative, 157–160; Cissy Wood and Cottar Life, 160–164.

Sources:—Gregor's Glossary of the Buchan Dialect. Edmonston's Orcadian and Shetland Glossary. Jakobsen's Old Shetland Dialect. Shaw's Nithsdale. Author's Observations and Researches. Reminiscences of Old Inhabitants.

The sub-section No. 2 was very kindly and sympathetically annotated by the Rev. James Cooper, Litt. D., Professor of Church History, University of Glasgow. As a native of Morayshire, profoundly interested in all departments of Scots lore, he was peculiarly fitted to supply valuable annotations.

IV.—SIDE-LIGHTS, 165–225

1. Vernacular of the Lake District, 164–189; Cumbria and Strathclyde, 165–6; Affinities in Idiom and Grammar, 167–171; Archaisms in Common, 171–173; Border Parallels, 173–4; Comparison of Cu. and Scots in Vocables, 174–180; Social Customs, 180–2; Affinities in Scott and Burns, 182–3; Folklore, 183–187; Rural Pursuits, 187–9; Weather Lore, 189.

Sources:—Glossary of Cumberland Dialect—Dickinson and Prevost. Phonology and Grammar of Cumberland Dialect—Dickson Brown. Supplement—E. W. Prevost, Ph. D., F. R. S. E. Dialects of the South of Scotland—Murray. Glossary of Nithsdale Words—Shaw.

2. Braid Scottis in the Transvaal, 190–225.
(a) The Taal, 190–212—Dutch, the Taal, and Scots, 190–193; Familiar Affinities in Vocables, Idioms, Sayings, Social Customs, 193–198; Rural Surroundings of Boer and Scot in Comparison and Contrast, 198–204; Social Life, 204–212.
(b) Duncan Gray, in Taal, 212–217—Burns in Boer Land, 212–3; Dantjie Grouws, 214–5; Annotations, 215–6; As a Translation, 216–7.
(c) The Cottar's Saturday Night, 217–220—Scene in Comparison and Contrast as between Boer and Scot, 217–220.
(d) Tam o' Shanter, 220–225; Defects of the Translation, 220–1; Conviviality, 222–3; Superstitious Elements, 223–225.
Sources:—How to Speak Dutch—Logeman and Van Oordt. A Veldt Official—Musgrave. Article, "Blackwood's Magazine," 1880–1. Burns in Other Tongues—Wm. Jacks, LL. D. Reitz's Renderings of "Burns" in Dr. Jacks' volume. Notes by Afrikanders.
​

V.—FARTHER AFIELD, 226–263

1. Scoto–French in the Lowland Vernacular, 227–243; the "Auld Alliance," 227; Dutch Trading Influences, 227–8; the "Scot Abroad," 228.

Sources:—Ledger of Andrew Halyhurton, 1492, 229–30. Exchequer Accounts, 1538, 230. Tariff of Custom Dues, 1612, 231. James Bell's Pocket-Book, 1621, 231–3. Latin Grammars, 1587–1693, 233–6. Seventeenth Century Diaries, 236–8. Glasgow Burgh Records, 1691–1717, 238–9. General Usage, 239–41. Burns's Poems, 241–243.

2. Primitive Aryan Civilisation, 243–263; Aryan a Linguistic, not a Racial, Unity, 243–4; Discovery of Sanskrit and its Consequences, 244–5; How to Estimate the Primitive Stock of Culture, 246; Common Vocables for (1) Family Ties, 246–248; (2) Man Generally, 248–9; (3) Home, 249–50; (4) Domestic Animals, 250–1; (5) Animal and Plant Life, 251–2; (6) The Homestead, 252–3; (7) Food, 253; (8) Occupations, 253–4; (9) Seasons, 254; (10) Civil Life, 254–5; (11) Mind and Myth, 255–6; Results, Mental and Material, 256–7; the Primitive Dispersal, 257; "Gothic Gospels," the Veda of the Teutons, 258; Traces of the Indo–Germanic Schism, 258–260; Home of the Aryas, 260–262; Views of Professor Sayce, 262–3.

Sources:—Enumerated, 246.

VI.—GENERAL INDEX, 264–271.

VII.—GLOSSARY, 272–331.

​

CORRIGENDA

Page 19. 12 lines from top, for "wasi," read wasti.
Page„ 23. 14 lines from top, for " dringan," read driugan.
Page„ 46. Read Verses 1–9; do. p. 49.
Page„ 53. Middle, for "liftus," read luftus.
Page„ 53.„ Middle, for "waljan," read walwjan.
Page„ 70. 10 lines from foot, for "ill-sets," read ill-set's (as).
Page„ 72. 9 lines from top, for "At the head of," &c., read The head of.
Page„ 129. 11 lines from top, for "laidlick, a loath (tadpole and leech)," read laidliok, applied to the tadpole and leech.
Page„ 142. 7 lines from top, for "A Mr. Ross," &c., read This typical Scot, John Ross by name, was spending, &c.
Page„ 143. 5 lines from top, for "Heldon," read Keldon; and, again, page 145.
Page„ 143.„ 14 lines from top, "Cistercians," see Index sub voce.
Page„ 144. 6 lines from top, for "The nave," &c., read The nave was begun but never was finished.
Page„ 148. 7 lines from top, for "Grigor," read Gregor; and, again, pages 151, 153.
Page„ 148. 8 lines from top, for "rimin-mink," read rinnin-mink.
Page„ 207. Middle, for "Ger. nephew," read Ger. Nichte.
Page„ 220. 4 lines from top, for "die Cristen-vader, the gray-haired sire)," read die Cristen-vader), the gray-haired sire.

This work was published before January 1, 1931, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.

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STUDIES IN LOWLAND SCOTS

I.—THE DAWN

An Introduction to the Gothic Version of the Gospels by Bishop Wulfila and its Connection with Lowland Scots

The tourist on the Rhine, looking down from the deck of his steamer as it breasts the tawny stream, will frequently pass in his course a slow procession of barges deeply laden with coal. If of an inquiring turn of mind, he will learn that these hail from the Ruhr, a tributary that enters the great river near Düsseldorf, the valley through which it flows enjoying a brisk trade in coal-mining and its allied industries. Three centuries ago, in an obscure monastery of this side-valley, in the little town of Werden, an inquisitive German—one Arnold Mercator—rummaging among the dusty tomes of its library, perhaps in search of plunder for his master, the Landgraf of Hesse, discovered a manuscript of rare beauty. As the Lutheran Reformation was then making havoc of monastic stores, the prize was removed for greater security to Prague. It had been written by some careful scribe in characters of silver on a purple or mulberry-tinted parchment.[1] The letters of a few words at the beginning of each paragraph were in gold. How it had come to Werden no one could tell, but experts are agreed ​that it must have been made in Italy towards the end of the fifth or the beginning of the sixth century, i.e. during the rule of the Goths under Theodoric the Great. It was, indeed, a version of the Gospels in the language of the Goths. Toward the end of the Thirty Years' War in 1648, Count Königsmark, having captured Prague, carried off the MS. to Stockholm. Thereafter it had further adventures, having been for a time in Holland, but it was ultimately restored in 1669 to the royal library at Upsal, where it still remains. It contained the Gospels in 339 leaves, of which 177 are preserved, and is known as the Codex Argenteus. While in Holland it was printed for the first time at Dort, 1665, by Francis Junius, well known to literary students as the first to give the Anglo-Saxon poem of Cædmon[2] to the world, just as Milton was meditating his great epic. Junius prepared types which were a close facsimile of the Gothic characters. These types he afterwards presented to the University of Cambridge, where they are still preserved.

What was the origin of this unique relic? The early Church historians throw some light, unfortunately obscure, on its author. His name is variously spelt, but is best known as Ulfilas or Ulphilas, the Græcised form of the genuine Gothic Wulfila or Wolf-ling, showing the common diminutive suffix—ila as in att-ila, little father (atta, father); barn-ilo, bairnie (barn, child); maw-ilo, maiden, girlie (mawi, girl, Ger. Magd, our Maisie), the talitha or damsel, addressed to Jairus' daughter. The parents of Wulfila had been carried off from Cappadocia, near the end of the third century, in a raid of the Goths into Asia Minor, and formed part of a small colony that appear to have introduced Christianity among their captors. Born 311 A.D. ​he became at an early age a leader among his countrymen, was much connected with Constantinople, where he was held in honour, was, after having been a lector or reader, consecrated bishop at the age of thirty by Eusebius of Nicomedia, and, after having held office for forty years, he died at Constantinople about 381. Wulfila was in the first great schism of the Church—he was an Arian—and had come, along with other bishops, to Constantinople on the last occasion, to procure from the Emperor the promise of a new Council to settle the faith. The rival party of Athanasius ultimately triumphed, and the name and work of the good missionary suffered in consequence, and speedily sank into obscurity. But in his own age his reputation was of the highest; he wrote in Greek, Latin and Gothic; and was spoken of as the Moses of his devoted people, having led his persecuted tribesmen through the Balkan passes and planted his colony of Goths in Mœsia, the modern kingdom of Bulgaria. Byzantium was then the centre equally of the culture and philosophy of ancient Athens as of the Christian faith, and in the midst of it all had this intellectual Goth been reared. His pupil and successor,[3] Auxentius, has left a brief but touching account of his beloved master, reminding us of that more complete picture that has come down to us, under similar circumstances, of the last moments of his old English parallel, the Venerable Bede.[4]

Wulfila is said to have translate the entire Scriptures, with the exception of the Book of Kings. The reason given for this omission is that, knowing too well the warlike tastes of his coutnrymen, he hesitated to lay before them a part of the sacred narrative that spoke so much of battles and bloodshed. One might easily in these days fail to realise the full import of his great achievement. Here is a rude tribe, but little removed from barbarism—to the Greek and Roman undoubted barbarians. Open though they might be to the ennobling influences of Christianity, what is to be said of the courage, originality, and ​confidence in their future that led their bishop to let them hear the Gospel story in their own vulgar tongue? Ever since the beginning of literature there has existed a well-marked distinction between the language of the vulgar and that of the learned—the lewed man and the clerk. The latter is the exclusive privilege of the educated, and specially of the priestly class; the former is the vernacular, the speech of the verna or house-hold slave, that which children may pick up from a nurse, but which they will be half-ashamed of soon as they cross the vestibulum of the grammar school and learn the language of books. Knowing the influence of our Authorised Version on the development of modern English, we can better appreciate the wisdom and foresight of Wulfila. That his efforts failed to effect a similar result for his native Gothic was due to the cruel destiny of his people, a destiny over which he could have had no control. A somewhat bewildering chapter in Gibbon, and a half-contemptuous aplication of the name in art, alone preserve the memory of the Goths. Obscure Teutonic tribes—Alemanni, Suevi, Balti, Belgians, Franks, Lombards—these survive in some form, but the name of the Goth is well-nigh effaced from the map of Europe. Let me hurriedly glance at the history of this people, our own kith and kin, as their language shows them to have been.

The races that have played the chief part in the history of Europe fall into two distinct groups—the Latin and the Teutonic. The physical configuration of the Continent explains the division. Imagine oneself in a balloon in lat. 50° N., and what will be seen by the eye whose horizon is created by the imagination? Southwards a great inland sea bathed in the golden light of a sub-tropical sky, lofty snow-clad mountains shut out the arctic blasts, long rugged spurs push their giant arms far into the blue waters, lovely valleys skirt the shores or lose themselves in the deep recesses of the foot-hills, winding bay and receding creek bring the sea-breeze that fills the social sail and tempts to a larger trade and a wider knowledge. Northwards, on the other hand, stretches an almost sub-arctic sea, broken into two irregular halves by peninsulas, its shallow waters washing dreary sandy shores, on every side a vast plain covered for ages with a dense forest through which mighty rivers pour their sluggish waters into storm-tossed seas, and ​ever overhead a changeful sky, now vexed with the drifting cloud-rack, now hid behind a pall of murky fog. Southern mountain-land, nothern plain—these have ever been the respective homes of the Roman and the Teuton. The Goths swooped down upon the eastern peninsula, the Vandals upon the western, where the name Andalusia still marks their footsteps, while the fierce Viking Ber-serkr sailed his dragon prow through Ægean seas, but in time they lost their identity amid the orange groves and beneath the blue skies of the south. Equally marked is the contrast between the pleasures, the business, and the thoughts of the two races. South of the Alps the unit of national life is the polis of the urbs—a busy city-life, quick-witted, eloquent, artistic, thronging agora and forum under the shadow of each rock acropolis. In the huge, formless, northern plain, on the other hand, man is lost in the world of mingled wood and water. His clearing in the forest is his homestead, the centre of social life. Round it he plants his prickly hedge and calls the whole his tun (Ger. zaun, a hedge), the most general Teutonic place-name. In Gothic tains is a branch of the thorn-bush, tain-jo the woven basket that received the fragments after the feeding of the five thousand. Here the family and not the bazaar is the social unit.

In the ancient world the Roman and the Teuton met again and again in conflict. The Empire held its own for a time, when across the Rhine and the Danube, securely flaunted the eagles of the legions. But decay set in and the Danube became the scene of danger. By the middle of the third century the Goths overran the whole country between the Baltic and the Black Seas. Round the Carpathians they swarmed, seized Dacia (the modern Wallachia), crossed the Danube, and in 251 they met in battle and slew the Emperor Decius. Then, sweeping over the Balkan Peninsula, they crossed into Asia, ravaging as far as Trebizond and Cappadocia. But in 269 they suffered a check at the hands of the Emperor Claudius, and for ninety years there was peace. Those north of the Danube came to be known as East Goths, those on the south side as West or Visigoths. Ermana-ric, or Herman-ric, made of the former a powerful dominion that had ultimately to succumb to that terrible scourge of Eastern Europe—the Tartar Huns.

​Meanwhile, the West Goths were torn by internal dissensions. A patriotic and apparently conservative party under Athana-ric was opposed to the Christian and Arian party under Frithigern, with whom Wulfila sympathised. The latter, to avoid persecution, led a colony through the Balkan passes and settled within the Empire in what is now Bulgaria. This peaceful movement was, however, thwarted by cruel treatment that resulted in a rising in which the Emperor Valens was slain at Adrianople in 378. His successor, Theodosius, made terms with the Goths, and many of them joined the legions. In subsequent Gothic history great names appear;—Alaric, the hero of national independence and unity, strong enough to sack Rome itself; Ataulf, the loyal ally and son-in-law of the Emperor Theodoric, who fell in battle with Attila, the Hun, on the Frankish plain of Chalons; and, finally, Theodoric the Great, the protector of the peaceful Roman against the Gaulish Odoacer, and Emperor of the once more united Western Empire. Therefore it is that in the Italy of the fifth century we find the last reliable traces of the Goths—the Codex Argenteus, other fragments of the Wulfilic translation discovered as late as 1817 and preserved at Milan, a Gothic calendar, and a business document, the owner of which lived at Arezzo, near Naples. In Italy, however, the Goth was but a temporary invader; in Gaul and Spain he held his own for long, ultimately succumbing to the Frank and the Moor.

On what is known as the Bucharest ring is a Runic inscription consisting of three genuine Gothic words—Gut annôm hailig—dedicated to the Goths' treasures. Each of these words occurs in the Wulfilic Gospels. From this we learn that the Goths called themselves Gut-os, in the singular Guts; to the classical writers they were the Gothones. There seems to be a real confusion between the sounds of ū and ō. Wulfila speaks of the Epistle Du Rumonim to the Romans, and calls Rome Ruma. Shakspere, too, rhymes Rome with doom and groom, and in "Julius Cæsar" Cassius says,—

"Now is it Rome, and room enough
When there is in it but one only man."

The Wulfilic form survives to this day in the name Roumania. The fuller name for the Gothic people is Gut-tiuda. The ​

Grimm's Law
of
Consonantal Change.

​latter part of this term is the German national name Deutsch for Deut-isch, in Gothic Thiud-isk; it is from a root widely diffused in all the Indo-European tongues, to which, of course, Gothic, as a Teutonic speech, belongs.

The branches of the Indo-European family fall into three distinct group:—I. Sanskrit, Old-Persian, Greek, Latin, Keltic, Slavonic; II. Low German (Frisian, Dutch, Norse, Scotch, English); III. High German. Of these the first to appear in Europe must have been the Keltic; the outstanding physical features of our continent—mountains, rivers, valleys—bear Keltic names. The last to appear, and the lowest in the scale of culture, is the Slavonic. The affinities of these tongues have long been established, and the principles involved are formulated in the well-known Grimm's Law. The most striking illustrations of the law are to be found in such familiar and widely-diffused words as numerals, pronouns, and terms for relationships, common natural phenomena, domestic animals, and the like. The law affects merely the nine mutes, as arranged in three sets, viz.:—Hards, Aspirates, Softs, the initials of which form the mnemonic H. A. S. Any word common to the three groups stated above will change, as far as its mutes are concerned, from group to group in the order of the groups and the order of the sets of mutes. These changes can be showns diagrammatically, thus:—A circular disc,[5] divided into three arms corresponding to the three groups above, is made to revolve from left to right within a circle or outer rim, which latter is divided into three compartments corresponding to the three sets of mutes—H. A. S.

The typical illustrations of the law in the three positions of the disc are these:—

1st position.—Group I. Hard.
Sanskrit, Græco-Latin, Keltic, K. T. P. Ca p i t (is) (Latin).
Slavonic. T res( „⁠ ).
Group II. Aspirate.
Low German. Kh. Th. Ph. H au b i th (Gothic).
h. f. v. H ea f o d (Anglo-Saxon).
Th ree (English).
Th reis (Gothic).
​
Group III.
Soft. H aup t (German)
High-German. G. B. D. H aup tD rei (German„).
2nd Position.—Group I. Aspirate. Θ υγάτηρ (Greek).
„II. Soft. D auhtar (Gothic).
D ochter (Scotch).
„III. Hard. T ochter (German).
3rd Position.—Group I. Soft. Fa g us (Latin).
Fa g usD uo (Latin„).
„II. Hard. Bo c (Anglo-Saxon).
Beech (English).
Bo k a (Gothic).
Bo k aT wai (Gothic„).
T wo (English).
„III. Aspirate. Bu ch (German).
Bu chZ wei (German„).
We should not expect too much of this law, for it applies merely to a few consonants, and even here there are many exceptions. High-German has been, for instance, immensely influence by Low-German, and has accordingly often changed its original hard lip mute p for b. The Celt regularly reverses the process. This latter must itself have been very imperfectly individualised before the great break-up of the common stock. The law, indeed, is very imperfect as regards German, not only in the lip, but also in the guttural series. In the middle or dental potion, however, the groups are clearly distinguished. Each tongue has, in these respects, as in others, developed on its own lines, and produced idiosyncrasies due to the most powerful agent in linguistic variation—dialectic growth. Of far more value are the laws regulating the internal development of each language, and all that gives it character and individuality. The consonants are but the hard unyielding bones of a word; the vowels, on the other hand, body forth those subtler influences of tone, accent, and quantity that form the cover of flesh, complexion, and feature, differentiating the individual, the tribe, and the nation. True progress in philology lies in a mastery of phonetics as applied to the vowel-system of a language, and especially of its dialects. ​

Alphabet.

​Our own language, that is to say, English and Lowland Scots—for the latter is but the Northern or Northumbrian variety of the former—is more nearly related to Gothic than any other Indo-European speech, brought as it was to our shores by the English folk, those Low-German tribes that had spread westwards to the dreary Frisian shores when their brothers, the Goths, roamed towards the banks of the blue Donau, to waste their strength in a life-long struggle with the mighty power of Rome. The study of these Gothic remains therefore constitutes not merely a unique field of linguistic research, but is of practical value in helping to a right appreciation of the history of our own tongue in its English, much more in its Scottish aspect.

In all probability Wulfila reduced his native Gothic to writing for the first time, and for this purpose constructed his alphabet on a basis of Runic, Greek and Latin characters. As to which of the three formed the primary basis, scholars are not agreed. German writers, whose views are endorsed by Mr. Douse, assign this position to the Runic alphabet, while Prof. Skeat discusses the whole point without the slightest reference to Runes. The question is a difficult, but not very momentous one. Written symbols of every kind are peculiarly liable to change. We all use the same conventional set of cursive characters, and yet in practice these assume endless varieties of form. Further, it is more than likely that both Runic and Greek, i.e. Phoenician characters, diverged from a common source. Runes form an undoubted relic of Teutonic antiquity. Widely diffused over northern and western Europe, they acquired a mystic force from their extensive use in charms and divination. They have not come down to us in connection with literary remains, but merely in incised inscriptions on stones, crosses, weapons, &c. The word rune (Go. runi and A.-S. rûn) means a mystery, not a letter, for which Wulfila uses boka (cp. Ger. Buchstabe). In O.Eng. and Sc. the verb to roun or round means to whisper, and its cognate Lat. rumor properly means a whisper, while in its Sanskrit form—bru—the word means to speak, and is very commonly used. It may here be noted that Runic letters are formed almost entirely of combinations of straight lines, generally in threes. All writing is ​indeed a variety of printing or graving that has become more and more cursive. Thus s, which has now its familiar serpentine form, shows, as a Rune, three lines en zigzag, as in the oldest form of the Gr. sigma. Again, the Runes had names attached to them, showing their pictorial or hieroglyphic origin. Thus the first is f = faihu, the Go. cattle ; Sc. fee, Ger. vieh, just as in Heb. al-eph is the ox. O is ôthal an heirloom, inheritance, not extant in Gothic, but in Orkney applied as udal to a form of land tenure, and as udaller familiar to readers of Scott's "Pirate." The Norsemen in Ireland made it O'Dell. T again is Tius (Tues-day), the Northern Jove, wielder of the thunderbolt, which indeed the character symbolises, for it is nothing but the Government broad arrow. Wulfila significantly eschews the use of this heathen name. But that his people must have been familiar with Runes and their names, is believed to be proved from a curious Viennese MS. of the ninth century containing the Gothic alphabet, with the recognised Runic names for the letters. Not many of the Runes, however, were adopted by Wulfila without modification under Greek influence. A is more Runic than Greek; b, i, r, are common to both systems. The Rune u seems clearly repeated in Gothic, yet Prof. Skeat regards it as a Lat. u inverted. He is equally determined to ignore Runes in the case of o, which symbol reproduces a Rune very fairly, yet some see in it Gr. omega, and Skeat the inversion of a Gr. contraction for ou ȣ. Some of the symbols are certainly Greek:—g (hard), e, k, l, n, p, w (upsilon), and ch, used merely in such proper names as Christos. Wulfila does not give ch its Runic nasal force, for which he doubles g as in Greek, e.g. briggan, to bring. From the Latin alphabet he borrowed, it is thought, d, h, m, s, t, and f, of which the two first are not at all Runic, but m is equally Runic and Latin, though with a different phonetic value, and s, t, and f can be easily traced to Runes. Gothic j (as y in yes) Skeat gets from Lat. g, yet this, too, looks like a modified Rune of similar value. There remain the characteristically Gothic kw, hw, and th. The first Mr. Douse regards as a Eune for qu, used as a number = 90, but Prof. Skeat the Lat. u. Hw cannot be accounted for; but Prof. Skeat considers it Gr. theta, while to explain the thoroughly Teutonic th-symbol he resorts to the far-fetched ​device of inverting Gr. phi. The Anglo-Saxon thorn-letter closely follows the Runes. Lastly, Wulfila uses his letters as numbers, hence we know their sequence, which is that of Greek, not Runic, where the alphabet was known as futhork from its first six letters, viz., f, u, th, o (for a), r, k.

It is interesting to know the phonetic value Wulfila probably attached to his symbols. This we ascertain from two sources, a comparison with the general Teutonic vowel and consonantal system, and a study of Wulfilic transliterations of Greek proper names. His vowel system is:—

Short ǎ as in manna = Sc. man.
„ ai for ĕ as airtha = earth.[6]
„ i as fisks = fish.
„ au for ǒ daur = door.
„ u as suns = soon.
Long ā, rarely used.
„ ê as gêbun (gayvoon), they gave.
„ ei (ī) as weis (weece), we.
„ ô as wôk, I woke.
„ û as suts (soots, Ger. süsz), sweet.

The Greek transliterations for the most part bear out these values, but it is probably that Wulfila found his vowel system different from the Greek. It seems strange that, having adopted Gr. eta as a symbol, he should have given it the long sound of upsilon, and chosen to use ai for the short sound, thus—Baiailzaibul = βεελζεβοὐλ, Gaiainna = Γἐεννα, Gehenna. Similarly, o is always long, and au represents its short sound, as Apaustaulus, ἀπόστολος. These short sounds ai = ĕ and au = ǒ, are almost restricted to those cases in which these vowels are followed by r or h. A somewhat similar disturbing effect of r is still seen in clerk, Derby, and less correctly in servant (sarvent), and sergeant (sargent). The combination ai and au elswhere have the values of Ger. Kaiser and Haus repsectively. Long i is ei = ee in seen, but the transliteration varies, Go. ei representing Gr. ι, ει, and η, e.g. Aileisabeth = Ελίσαβετ, Jaeirus = Ιάειρος, and Atheineis = Αθἥναι. The consonants do not call for much remark; g has always its hard sound, j, which has now its palatal sound under the influence of French, has the sound of y in yes; p seldom appears in Gothic words except in the middle position, and b has the force of f or v between ​vowels. In course of time the Go. consonants have become greatly altered. Thus Go. s is often Eng. and Ger. r e.g. raus, a reed = Ger. Rohr, dius, a beast = deer, auso = ear, huzd = hoard, gazd, a goad = yard, haus-jan, to hear. This change is common in the declension of Latin nouns. Go. b is f in laub = leaf, giban, to give.

The guttural series offers the greatest difficulty to the modern Englishman, but none at all to the Scot. To the latter, as to the Goth, the guttural is familiar. Nowhere has he any tendency to alter its face value. His "heech" is as decided as the German's hoch or the Goth's hauh-s. His bocht is the Gothic bauhta, pret. of bugjan, to buy. The Gothic bairhts (bright), nahts (night), are followed in his bricht, nicht. Even where the guttural is strengthened by a following dental, the older h has been squeezed out in English, though preserved in the Scotch, as in waihts, a thing, Eng. wight, and whit for an older wiht, compared with Sc. aacht = ae-waiht, property. The guttural suffers in compounds as nought and not, for Go. ni-whait, compared with Sc. nocht and nochtie (paltry). the strong German nicht becomes in dialects nisht and nit. Dutch makes the positive form of Go. waihts into iets and negative niets, with which compare Sc. hait and "Deil hait" (Devil a bit!). Scotch writers of the seventeenth century often put a t after the guttural as publict for public. This may explain an occasional corruption of the original guttural as in the bauths, deaf, heard in Sc. bauch, applied to anything dulled, such as ice that is not keen. The Gothic phrase bauth wairthan is said of the salt that had "lost its savour, or become bauch (wersh)." Gothic distinguishes where Eng. and Sc. fail equally, as liu-hath = light and leihts (not heavy). In Sc. these words show a strong guttural as in-lichten for Go. in-liuhtjan (en-lighten). But the most interesting example, common to Gothic and Scotch, is tiuhan, to tow, tug, and its variant tahjan, to tear or rend, which Prof. Skeat further explains as expressing action of the teeth. Taw is used in connection with the preparation of leather, in which primitive process, among the Eskimo at least, the teeth of the women play a part. Perhaps we have here a side-light on the culture of the Goths. The primitive guttural, lost in Eng. tough, from tiuhan, is heard in ​the A.S. tóh, and Sc. tyuch and tchuch. A similar survival is e-nyuch (enough), compared with Go. ga-nohs, sufficient.

But the strongest changes appear, as is natural, in double consonants, for here we encounter a potent factor in phonetic change, human laziness. To the favourite initial guttural the liquids r, l, w, or v attach themselves with persistence. In these cases the guttural has a tendency to disappear in favour of the weaker parasitic sounds. This feature may be illustrated in hrugga, a staff (Sc. rung), hrot, a roof (O. Fris. hrof; Du roef), hrukjan, to crow—"suns hana hrukida," soon the cock crowned. Scotch sometimes uses this strong initial as in Go. hropjan, to call, for which we find not only roup, an auction, but hraep, sometimes heard as thraep, to argue—"He thraepit it doon my throat." Hropei, a call or harsh cry, is seen in Sc. roopie, croaky, croupie. Another instance is hrains, pure, Ger. rein and our rinse. Hrishjan, again, to shake, passes through A.S. hrysian to our "rush." A derivative is Sc. reeshle, rustle, a stronger form of rush, as in "I'll reeshle yer riggin" (back Ger. Rücken). Of the loss of h before l our laugh for example, for it is Go. hlahjan, though the Sc. lach better preserves to original guttural.

A favourite inital in Gothic, sk, has generally been softened in cognate tongues to sh, Ger. sch. The South African Taal consistently preserves the hard form where the home Dutch softens it, as in Taal skap, sheep. We see this change in skreitan = shred, but contrast Sc. screed, scart (scratch), skiuban = shove, skura = shower, Sc. shoor. When Christ stilled the tempest Mark says, "wrath skura windis mikila," a muckle shoor of wind arose. As we usually find in Scots, s has the hard sound regularly in Gothic, where un-weis, unlearned, un-wise, sounds quite like Sc. on-weiss. The English cousin often sounds cúss-in on a North-country tongue. A striking example of the hard s is where Matthew, telling of the stilling of the tempest (viii. 26), says, "jah warth wis mikil," and there was a muckle wheesh. If followed by i, it must be softened, as siujan (Sc. shoo), and sow = saian (Sc. saw). The Gothic laus with s hard has exactly the Scotch sound of loose, though the sense is somewhat different, viz., empty, of no effect. The difficult th is often changed to d, as Go. maurthra = murder, sinthan, go, wander ​= send, hlethra = ladder, but Sc. lether, sneithan, to cut = Sc. sned, snod, Ger. schneiden, balths = bold, Sc. bauld, kiltheis = child. In Sc. th is often heard for Eng. d, e.g. shoother = shoulder, poother = powder, bethel = beadle (Lat. bedellus).

English characteristically weakens initial hw, in contrast to Sc. and the original Go., into w, as hwaiteis, wheat, Sc. hwait; hwairpan, to throw, warp; hwairnei, brains, Sc. harns, Ger. Ge-hirne. Whet preserves its original sense of cutting in Sc. as, "to white a stick." It has several forms in the Gospels. Wulfila shows a striking metaphorical usage as when the crowd "hwotidedun" blind Bartimæus for addressing Jesus, rendered by our "rebuked." The guttural in Latin is, according to rule, the hard k, as in quis, Sanskr. kas, compared with Go. hwas, Sc. whaw, who. In this and its derivatives, on the other hand, the guttural disappears in English. Our which is a good illustration of such changes—Go. hwi-leiks, Sc. whi-lk, compared with which or witch. A countryman, sauntering near the Strand, on asking a passer-by, "What street is this?" was answered, "Wych Street." This, meaningless to him, made him repeat the query, whereupon the Londoner testily said, "W'y, Wych Street, of course," and walked on, doubtless mentally forming his own opinion of Doric dulness. On the road to Calvary the mob railed on Jesus, "wagging their heads," withondans hauhida seina. This withon, to shake, is for an older hwithon, as seen in Lat. quatere, to shake. As expressing a rapid movement, whid, whidding, withon has many representatives in Scotch. Among the powers promised by the Master is that of treading on serpents, "trudan ufaro waurme," where the word has its original sense of dragon, "monster of the prime," as in the Welsh cape, christened by the Norsemen Great Orme's Head. The original is hwaurms, which again is the Sansk. krimi, and this, through early Arab traders, has given us carmine and crimson.[7]

If we turn now to the Wulfilic remains as we find them, it may be asked. With what degree of completeness do they present the Gospel narrative? The second Gospel is almost ​

​complete, the others show numerous and extensive lacunæ[8] Of not one of the Gospels is the concluding portion preserved. The last words of the narrative, as a whole, form the report of Mary Magdalene, that she had seen her risen Lord on the first day of the week. We miss the marriage supper at Cana, the interviews with Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman, the good Samaritan, the Agony, and the institution of the Lord's Supper. But we have the story of our Lord's birth and early life, the episodes of the Baptist and the Temptation, the great miracles, the best discourses, such as the Lord's Prayer, Sermon on the Mount, and the farewell to the disciples, the most familiar parables, the entry into Jerusalem, the trial, crucifixion, and resurrection. A closer scrutiny of this unique relic ought to proceed on three lines—(a) What are its merits as a translation? (b) what does it reveal of the material, social, and intellectual condition of the Goths at the time? (c) what are its affinities with Scotch, English and German?—the modern languages with which it is intimately connected. From the philologist's point of view the first may be passed over. Wulfila keeps faithfully to the Greek text, and in the spirit of Old-English, and the prevailing practice of modern German, he refrains from adopting a foreign word, but prefers, if possible, to translate it. In this respect we have long enjoyed Free Trade, and readily admit within our shores an unlimited number of foreign words, not unfrequently ousting good native products in the process. Many terms, however, Wulfila adopts. The Greek borrowed words include those connected with the church services, dress, and articles of utility or refinement, such as paska (old Scotch pash, Easter), purple-dye, sackcloth, olive-oil, myrrh, linen, mustard. The Latin borrowings, on the other hand, refer to war, government, money, and the like, such as Cæsar (Kaisar), pretorium, militare, regere, cumbere (to sit at meat), fascia. Of these native equivalents the following may be taken as samples:—bokareis = scribes, figgra-gulth = ring (finger-gold), hunsla-staths = altar, i.e. (Sc. hansel)-place; weina-basi = grape (wine-berry), hunda-faths = centurion, hleithra-stakins = tabernacles (properly a "wattled cot"), harns-stead, ​i.e. brains-place = Golgotha, the place of a skull, of. Sc. harnpan and Fr. tête from Lat. testa, a pot.

Of more vital interest is the evidence these remains afford of the condition of life among the Goths. In one respect they have the advantage of preserving in transverse section a petrifaction, as it were, of contemporary speech. On the other hand, the limited range of subjects in the Gospels excludes many departments of social and intellectual activity. We miss the language of war and the chase, of the social pleasures, of folk-lore. But it must be admitted that the Gospel narrative comes very near to our "business and bosoms," so we should expect to find in the language of Wulfila no lack of homely and intelligible terms. A glossary arranged, as it is, alphabetically, conceals the evidence it bears of social and intellectual status. More instructive would it be to have the words classified under subjects. The main heads might be—(1) Man and his personal environment (man generally, parts of the body, relationships, dwellings, dress, feelings); (2) Man's remoter natural surroundings (plant and animal life, the weather, time, &c.); (3) Man's forms of activity (occupations, war, civil life, education, and religion). Under these heads a mass of most interesting words are to be found in Gothic, most of which are still in use among us, the rest are quite familiar to a Scotchman, and in a large degree to a German. All of them have a history in themselves and in the affinities they suggest.

Here follow some specimens of this instructive catalogue:—


1. Man and His Personal Environment.

Man generally.—Wair = Lat. vir, the strong one, the hero, obsolete but seen in O.Eng. wer-old = world, Sc. wardle, e.g. "Eh, sirs! sic a weary wardle" ("Johnny Gibb o' Gushetneuk"), wer-geld. It is found, but obscurely, in Canterbury = Roman Cant-uarius = bury or town of the men of Kent. In this word er represents A.S. waru = wair, common in old place-names. In Gael, wair is fear, as in Farintosh = clansman. Guma = homo, the earthy one (bride-g(r)oom, yeoman). Manna is used, like German man, in an indefinite, pronominal sense. Queins ​= γυνὴ, the producer, stands for woman generally, our queen, Sc. quean.

Parts of the Body.—Leik = body generally, dead or alive, very common in older Eng. as in lich-gate, lyke-wake. Hwairnei = brains, Sc, harns, Ger. Ge-hirne, renders Golgotha = hwairnei-staths, place of a skull. Lof-a = Sc. loof, cf. die flache Hand, the open palm. "Some standing by struck Jesus with the lofa (loof)."—John xviii. 22. In A.S. it is lôf. Beowulf has g-lôf, our glove, an almost solitary trace of the prefix ge, so common with nouns in Gothic and German. Gothic shows that our gallop has also a trace of it in verbs, for it is Go. ga-hlaupan, to run, our leap, Sc. lowp, Ger. laufen, Eng. loafer and inter-loper. Kinnus = the cheek, our chin. Sc. keeps k in kin-cough for chin-cough, Du. kink-hœst. Literally it is the curved, crooked, as in kink, a twist in a rope, Sc. kinch. Taihs-wa = dexter, the pointer or right hand (also in teach and token). Gothic has a word for one-handed = hamfs, in the general sense of maimed, "If thy hand offend thee, cut it off; good is it for thee to enter into life one-handed than to enter Gehenna having two hands" = "Jabai marzjai thuk handus theina, afmait tho; goth thus ist hamfamma in libain galeithan, than twos handuns habandin galeithan in gaiainnan."—Mc. ix. 43. Haihs = one-eyed, a curious compound, according to Bopp, of the -ce of Lat. ec-ce hic-ce, e-ka (Sanskrit one), along with the common Aryan word for the eye, Go. augo, Lat. oc-ulus. The whole is therefore in the Roman name Horatius Cocles = the one-eyed. By Grimm's Law the syll.-ha = ka (Sans.) is in both hamfs and haihs. Hamfs = ha-nifa, Sc. neive, fist. In haihs and hamfs the syllable ha is prefixed. It has been dropped in Sc. neive, cf. knife = nife.

With few exceptions terms for parts of the body can be recognised with little difficulty. Some interpret themselves at once—brusts (breast), hairto (heart), hups (hip), fotus (foot), suljo (sole), auso (ear), kniu (knee, with k sounded as in Scotch). Others are archaic, as fill, skin (fell, felt, pelt), amsa, shoulder. If, as Prof. Skeat suggests, this be a mis-reading for ahsa, it is the Sanskrit uhsan, the bearer, the Ger. Achsel, and Sc. oxter, the arm-pit. Several are to be referred to A.S., as haubith, head (A.S. heafod), wairilo, the lip (A.S. weler), waggari, a pillow ​(Ger. and O.E. Wange, the cheek, A.S. wangere). Tooth itself is tunthus, showing the older n as in Lat. dent—Du tand. The isolated peak, Tinto, in Lanarkshire, was so named by the Norsemen. Wlits and (w)ludja, the countenance, are A.S. wlite, now lost. Finger and hand are found almost unchanged. The former has its Sc. and Ger. sound. The Sc. wime (belly) is exactly Go. wamba (Eng. womb). The mouth = munths, and the heel = fairzna, are more like their German cognates, Mund and Ferse. Stamms (stammerer), daubs, blinds (pron. as in Sc), halts (halt), explain themselves. The Go. for neck, hals, was at one time common in Sc, as hause, but still lives in the Orkneys. Here is the experience of an Orcadian in the Canongate of Edinburgh: "Ae wife luckid oot at a muckle apstair window; the meenit the Laird saw a heed i' a window atween him an' de licht, he stend stock still, an' says he tae me—'Po' me sal, there's a muckle bauckie!' (cf. Sc. for bat, ghost, bogle, and Burns's "bauckie bird"). Robbie, gie me me gun, and I'll lay him deed as seur as his heed's on his hass.'"—"Orcadian Sketches."

Relationships. — Our word father is not in Go. except in fadr-eins = parents or family (Joseph was of the house of the family of David), and "abba, fadar!" (Gal. iv. 6). Its stem is in hund-faths = master of a hundred, and bruth-faths = lord of the bride. Faths is fode = a man, in our old ballads such as Cheild Rowland and Burd (bride) Ellen, e.g. "God rue on thee, poor luckless fode, what hast thou to do here?" The root of these means the protector, and is in sense classical rather than Teutonic (cf. Lat. pater). Gothic fodr is a sheath, i.e. the protecting one. Mother is nowhere in Gothic. The place of these two terms is taken by the onomatopoetic atta, aithei. Such child words are common, e.g. abba, papa, tata (Vaidic and Greek), and dad, hence Att-ila, the Hun = the little father. The Czar is still to the Slavs the little father. Attâ in Sans, is mother or aunt = Go. aithei. Widuwo = widow, the bereaved one, really an adj. as viduus ager, a fallow field, in Lat. This is also its force in Go. and Sc. The woman of Sarepta is "quinon widuwon" = a widow (woman or quean).

Such terms as brothar, swistar, dauhtar (Sc. dochter), sunus (son), lauths (lad), call for no remark. Barnilo, child, what is ​born, is the Sc. bairn, bairnie, and occurs in many forms. Another term, well represented but now obsolete, is magus, magula, a lad, and the feminine forms mawi, mawila, and magathei = maidenhood, and applied by Luke to Anna, the prophetess. Magaths, of which the form magathei is the abstract, is A.S. maeg-eth, our maid, maiden, Maisie (Meg-sie). The root notion is that of a "growing" lad or lass, cf. might, main. It is substantially same as maik, a "fitting" companion, very common in old Scots. Thus Barbour's "Brus" has—

"Walter Stewart with him tuk he,
His maich, and with him great menye."—X. 827.

Dress in general is wasi = Lat. vestis. Paida, a coat of skins, to this day the dress of Slavonic shepherds, is said to be in pea-jacket, which has come through Dutch. Another hint of a national peculiarity in dress we get. When Mary wiped Our Lord's tear-moistened feet, Wulfila uses for our phrase, "the hairs of her head," Skufta haubidis seinis. Skuft is the top-knot, Ger. Schopf. The Greek here simply says Θριξὶν τἤς κεφαλἤς. The pre-historic top-knot is still dear to the feminine world from Lapland to Paris.

2. Man's Natural Surroundings.

Natural Phenomena.—To Wulfila heaven and earth, sun, moon and stars, sea and land, berg and dale, stone, fen, flood, water, burn, gold, silver, iron, salt, were known by precisely the same names as to ourselves. The sun was known by two names, sunno, fem., and sauil, Lat. sol. neut. The sea was the saiwa, the tossing one, the lake marei, the O.Eng. mere. A country district was a gawi, still heard in Rhein-gau and (perhaps) Miln-gavie; a field was hugs, a haugh, or akrs = acre, Lat. ager. Ahwos, torrents of rain, is aqua, the universal Aryan word for water.

Plant Life.—Grass is Go., but not in its strictest sense, rather herb. The mustard seed is the greatest of all the grasses, cf. gorse and Sc. gers. In our sense of grass hawi = hay, is used, e.g. "If God so clothe the hay of the field." For fruit generally, especially of the fields, we have akran (akrs = field), our acorn, now restricted in sense. The New Philological Dictionary ​traces it to Go. akran, fruit, probably a derivative of Go. akrs, and originally "fruit of the unenclosed land, natural produce of the forest." Tree generally is bagm = beam, Ger. baum. Timber is triu = tree (cf. Sc. a tree or wooden leg). The band that came to the garden to seize Christ were armed with trees (staves). This explains the expression "nailed upon the tree," spoken of the Crucifixion. Strange to say. Go. supplies no native tree-names. Of grains, three bear the modern names—Atisk = Old Sc. aitis, oats, lit. what is eaten,[9] but used for the field of corn (σπόριμον) through which Our Lord walked on the Sabbath-day. In the A.S. Bible we read "Thā Noë ongan him aetes tilian" = then Noah began to get him food. Hwaiteis = wheat, sounds quite homely to us (hwate in Scots), so also does baris = bere, barley. Ahs, an awn or ear of corn, and ahana, chaff, mean, literally, the little sharp thing, Lat. acus, a needle.

Animals.—Beast in general is dius = deer ("rats and mice and such small deer," Shak.); wolf and fox (fauho) occur under these names. Waurms, as in O.Eng., means a serpent or dragon, cf. Great Orme's Head, and "Where the worm dieth not" in the Bible. Bird (fugls) in general is the Bible word fowl. Sparrow (sparwa), dove, and eagle are named, the first two, as in Eng., but in the passage, "Where the carcase is there are the eagles gathered together," eagle is ara. This word, now lost, is the O.Eng. and Sc. earn or erne and Ger. Adler = Adel-aar, the noble bird. The O.Eng. erne exists as a surname, e.g. Dr. Arne, the famous musician. Thomas the Rhymer says,—

"The raven shall come, the erne shall go,
And drink the Saxon bluid sae free."

The golden eagle in Gaelic is the iol-air. The iol here is just our yel-low. For the domestic animals, cattle generally is faihu, a widely diffused word, lit. the tethered; it is our fee. In Barbour's "Brus" it has its original meaning, —

"In the contrie thar wonnyt ane
That husband wes and with his fe
Oft-syss (times, Chaucer's ofté-sithes) hay to
the peile led he."—Book x. 150.

​Ox, the carrier (cf. veho), is auhsa, retaining the original guttural. Our ewe, Lat. ovis, is found in awe-thi, a shepherd, and awi-str, a fold. Wulfila uses in "Behold, the Lamb of God!" the word withrus (awi-thrus), our wether, lit. a yearling. Fula and kalbo, gaits and gait-eins (goat-ling), and stiur (steer) explain themselves. Horse is not in the Gospels, but the Runic aihwus (horse) is in aihwa-tundja, the burning-bush, the first member of which is cognate with ὠκὺς, swift, acer, and the latter part our tinder. The horse is originally the eager, mettled one. In O.Norse ehwa and in A.S. ehu, Gael, ech, mean horse. In such a compound it should be noted that horse simply means large, cf. horse-chestnut, and Ἱππο-κάνθαρος, horse-beetle or monstrous beetle. Burns's term aiver for horse is derived from O.Fr. aver; Low Lat. averium, habere, hence average, cf. cattle and "goods and chattels."

One other singular animal name is in Wulfila. The Baptist was clad in camel's hair (Ga-wasiths taglam ulbandaus). The Go. for hair is tagl, our word tail. Ulbandus renders καμήλος, and the wonder is how such a word came into the language. It has a long and interesting history. In Greek it is ἐλέφας, our elephant, in A.S. olfend, the camel, in Lat. ebur, ivory, for this was known in the west long before the animal. The first part of Alphabet leads us to the Semitic form, Heb. aleph and eleph, the ox, and Sans. ibhâ, the elephant. For the old alphabets were hieroglyphic or pictorial in origin. The true Teutonic alphabet—the Runes—was of this nature, and the letters had names. Wulfila based his characters on Runes, as modified by Greek and Latin. The first letter-name in these was, as in the Phoenician alphabet, the ox, the Go. faihu, and its two horns in symbol can still be seen in our F. Another is called Tius = ᛏ = T, the Teutonic Jove, wielder of the thunder-bolt, and still in Tues-day. The symbol is just the broad arrow or sapper's mark. What was struck by his bolt must be deo-datum, confiscated, and thus Government serves itself heir to his thunder. But, to return to Ulbandus, el-eph contains the Arabic article el or al. The second syllable is one of many Sanskrit names for the elephant, ibhá = the strong one, and the appearance of the term in the west is due to the Arab traders who from the very early times shipped the animal and ​ivory from Ceylon. Ibha, again, is the Gr. adverbial suffix and adv. Ὶφἶ, and it does the same duty in Go., where adverbs are regularly formed from adjectives by adding—aba, e.g. baitr-aba = bitterly, abr-aba = ably. The A.S. olfend means a camel. The Romance form, olifaunt, survives as a surname. Chaucer, in the tale which he tells in his own character as poet of the Canterbury pilgrimage, sends the Quixotic knight Sir Thopas to do battle with the giant Sir Oliphaunt.

3. Man and his Activities.

One looks with interest on any light the Gothic fragments shed on the life of the people. Do they show even the rudiments of a social organisation? They called themselves Gut-thiuda, a compound of the national name and a derivative; from an Indo-Europ. root tu, to swell, be large or mighty, and present in our English thu-mb, the thick, swoln one. The notion is akin to that in Lat. plebs, the many, the masses. From it is thiudans, the king. Jerusalem is the baurgs of the mikilins thiudanis. On the other hand, Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, is only the kindins, akin to king, whereas reiks, from which come Lat. rex, Ger. Reich, and -ric in bishopric, is applied to Jairus, ruler of the synagogue. Apart from the idea of rule the most frequent term of respect, and uniformly applied to Our Lord, is frauja, rendering Gr. Κύριος, but now quite lost. It is, however, common in the ballads as free,—

"No longer durst I for him let (hinder, halt).
But furth I fundit (went) with that free."

—As I went on ae Monday.

The editor of the ballad remarks:—Free, fey, lord, or fairy, and thus gets over a difficulty with a little courage. It is also in Ger. Frau, and may be the curious Norse surname Fridge, seen on tombstones in the north. Its Norse equivalent is freyr, probably preserved in the surname Frier.

There is evidence of a self-governing community of kindred interest and origin in sibja, long most familiar in Lowland Scots as sib, related, relationship. The village commune is the gauri or country district (cf. Rhein-gau), where lived the gau-ja or ​peasant, perhaps the gudge or homely Buchan ploughman in "Johnny Gibb." The boundary of the commune is marko, the Mark, and Sc. march, found in ga-marko, a neighbour marching with one. The essence of free government, the right of popular discussion, is mathl, the market-place, analogous to the agora and the forum, when we remember that faura-mathleis is a chief speaker, and mathljan, to speak, is the Old Eng. mele, talk. Akin to this is the duty of public giving, implied in mota, toll or custom (cf. O.Eng. mote or village council), mota-staths, the receipt of customs, and a motareis, a publican. The same word is in our meed and Ger. ver-miethen, to let, be hired. Public defence is, of course, but little represented, though we have terms for army (harjis, Ger. Heer, Eng. herr-ing), sword and war (from weigan, to fight, whence Eng. vie). Ga-drauhts, a soldier, is from a verb, dringan, to serve, be pressed into service, still preserved in the old phrase, to dree one's wyrd or fate.

It is possible to construct a Gothic landscape out of the words of that far away time, words perfectly intelligible still. Overhead stretches the heavens (himins, Ger. Himmel), above the clear air (liftus, Sc. lyft), now swept by the wind (winds),[10] now thick with the rains (rign) or the snow (snaiws) when the frost (frius) of winter (wintrus) breathes over the land (land). The sun (sunna) lights the day (dags), the moon (mena, Sc. mune) the night (nahts). All round lies the open heath (haithi) and the woodland (timrjan, to build), with thorns (thaurnus) and wild flowers (blowans haithjos = lilies of the field) by the wayside (wigs), deep in mire (fani, fen = mud) or rough with stones (stains). In moist hollows one sees the fields (hugs, Sc. haugh land), where the peasant (gauja) ears (arjan, Lat. arare) his gawi with his hoe (hoha)—the plough came later—among his roots (wort, aurtja, a husbandman), driving (dreiband) his oxen (auhsa, Sc. owsen) at the goad (gazd) point, sowing (saiand) his wheat (hwaits), oats (at-isk, Sc. aits) or barizeins (Sc. bere), or cutting (snethand, Sc. sneddin) his grass (gras) and hay (hawi) with the sickle (giltha, geld, geld-ing = the castrated one) when harvest (asans) comes round, and the corn (kaurn) is to be winnowed (winthi-skauro, a ​winnowing fan), or the meal (malan) to be ground in the mill (asilu-quairnus = ass-quern) and stored in the meal-ark (arka.Lat. arca) for the bread (h-laibs[11] = loaf) that the good-wife will turn out of the oven (auhns, Sc. oon) to grace the table (biuds, booth, the board, always movable) at the evening meal (nahta-mats). Here sits (sitan) the lord (faths) of the feast, the wairdus (Ger. Wirth) among his guests, his ga-hlaiba or fellows of the loaf, while the servants (thewis, A.S. theow = serf) bestir themselves. The Syro-Phoenician woman helps us to complete the picture: "Yea, but eke the dogs under the table eat of the crumbs (dross) of the bairns" = "jah auk hundos undaro biuda matjand af drauhsnom barne." The morning or working meal is the undaurni-mats, where undaurni is under, in its Ger. rather than Eng. sense, as meaning "intervening time." Undaurni-mats is, therefore, the meal or meat time coming between times of labour. In Early and Middle English it is very common as undern.

The occupations of the farm would bulk largely in such a community. In addition to the more easily recognised forms already noticed are a few less obvious but interesting. The barn of the Gospels is bansts, from bindan, to bind as a means of securing. A Lowland Scot would say of a man under stress of passion, "He could nether hud nor binn." The Sc. steading as the stead (Go. staths, a place) or centre of the holding is found in the Go. verb staldan, to own, possess. The manger Wulfila calls uz-eto, what is eaten out of, cf. Ger. aus-essen. The wattled pens in which the animals were stalled may well be implied in flahta, used in the sense of a plaiting of the hair, and connected with flaihtan, to plait (Lat. plectere). The movable fence that the Sc. farmer still uses for sheep feeding off turnips in the field, he calls a flake. Here would be at times secured the "hairda sweine managaize" (herd of many swine) that the Gadarene demoniac saw the hairdeis (herd) haldand (keeping, holding, Sc. huddin). Not far off would be the unsavoury dunghill, maihstus, mixen. The strong guttural of maihstus in the Gothic is still heard in the Sc. mauchie, fulsome, foul-smelling.

​The civic unit was the householder, the garda waldands, wielder of the yard. The term gards has lived long as Gart, Gort, Garth in place-names, and in Norse-Celtic districts signifying a farm-stead (Go. staths, stads, Sc. steading). Gud-hus is the only use of our word house, and means God's-house or temple. The preference for gards instead of hus suggests that primitive type of farm-life in which a settler effects a clearing in the primeval forest and encloses his home (af-haims = from home) like the Sc. farm-toon, for this is the radical sense of both gards and Sc. toon. Its roof is the hrot, uncovered to admit the paralytic into the room where Jesus was. In the Heliand, a Low-German poem of the ninth century upon the Saviour's life, this sufferer is admitted "thurk thes huses hrost," through the house's roof. Hrot, roof, roost, all originally indicated the rafters on which the fowls perched. "Rule the roost" is really an analogous phrase to Cock of the walk. The paralytic was let down through the tiles—skaljos, Eng. scale—a word which shows they must have been slates, for to the Scottish schoolboy his slate-pencil was long known as skeelyie—the actual Gothic term we have here. Of course skaljos would equally apply to thin slabs of stone, still a roofing material in the Border districts, and on old churches. At the end of the house rose the gibla (Sc. and Du. gevel), that pinnacle of the Temple to which the Tempter led Christ. In front was the porch, after the fashion of a Boer stoep, and known as the ubizwa (our eaves). The door (daur) and the window (auga-dauro = eye-door) completed the external view. Inside the house, on the middle of the floor, stood the sacred vesta of the Romans, the Go. hauri, our hearth, the ascending smoke (rikwis, Sc. reek) of which escaped as it best might from its pile of ashes (azgo). Over it mayhap hung the kettle (katils, from kasa, a pot), with chair and bench (stols and sitls = Ger. Stuhl, settle) not far off.

The larger social centre was the baurgs (Eng. burgh, Sc. broch), translating πόλις, and meaning, literally, a walled place, from bairgan, to preserve. Some kind of enclosure secured the Go. baurgs, for baurgs waddjan is the town-wall of Damascus, whence St. Paul escaped by a basket. The term waddjan here, akin to withe, wattle, widdie, points to a kind of fence still very common in Holland, and formed of plaited willow or hazel twigs. ​The baurgs of Wulfila must have been a considerable place. It had its market-place (ga-runs), crowded corners (weihsta, akin to Lat. vicus), street (gatwo, Sc. gate) and stey brae (staiga), still a street name in Hamburg, in the form Steig.

The arts of civil life do not play any great part in the Gospels. Next to the farmer would be the (w)aurtja, or gardener (wort, Ger. Wurzel), whose care would be the aurti-gards with its vineyard. Wine (weina), as a name, appears in the word for a drunkard and as a compound with triu (tree), basi (berry), and tains (branch, Sc. tine of a stag, harrow, eglantine). Building construction is implied in timrjan (timber), to build. Trius, the general term for tree, means also timber, as in triuw-eins, of tree, and in Scots. The Ger. Baum is Go. bagms, beam, boom. The common tool of Central Europe, the axe, is akwizi. The metals are known—eis-arn[12] (iron), gulth (gold, figgra-gulth, a finger ring), and silubr (silver, meaning also money, as in Scots). Ais, brass, coin, is Lat. aes. The apostles were enjoined to take nothing for the way except ane rung, but no meat-bag (wallet), loaf, nor money in (their) girdles = "niba hrugga aina, nih mati-balg nih hlaif nih in gairdos aiz." Aiza-smitha is the coppersmith of 2 Tim. iv. 14. The humbler arts of the home are indicated by wulla (wool), lein (linen), and nethla (needle), siujan (sew), and bi-waibjan (weave).

The higher walks of culture could scarcely be looked for among Wulfila's heathen converts. In church organisation the alien term accompanies the novel and strange idea, but it says much that the subtle language of the Greek is so often accurately rendered by a native word, intelligible to the hearers presumably, otherwise it would have been meaningless. We have spirit (ahma, Holy Ghost), soul (saiwala), mind (muns, munan, to think), understanding (hugs). The sense of property is well recognised—Swes, one's own (cf. Lat. suus) property, arbi, a heritage (Ger. Erfe), skattja, a money-changer, skatts, money (cf. scot-free, and Orcadian scat-hold), wadi, a pledge (Sc. wad-set, a mortgage), waddja-bokos, a bond or legal document. Bota is the familar Scots for boot or money in bargaining. Nor is law (witoth, from ​witan, to know) absent, witness witoda-laisareis, a teacher of the law, witoda-fasteis, a lawyer. And of course writing must have been a regular art—"ainana writ witodis" = ane writ of the law (a stroke of the pen, Luke xvi. 17).

The refined arts of healing and teaching are illustrated by lekeis, a physician, the O.Eng. leech, literally the licker, and lekinon, to heal, and by laisareis (Ger. Lehrer), Wulfila's rendering of Rabbi. The root of the latter is in a Gothic preterite verb, lais, I know, and its derivative, laisjan, therefore means to make to know, that is, teach. Gothic thus distinguished between the two processes, long expressed in English, as it is still in Scots, by the one term, learn. The only reference to anything like education is stabs, a letter, element, still a compositor's term (cf. Ger. Buch-stabe). Our spell has its older meaning, spillon, to narrate (cf. gospel = good-spell), spill, a tale, spilla, a teller, and spilda, a writing-tablet. The art of the healer had to deal with two serious forms of disease—palsy and leprosy. The paralytic, us-litha, is named from lithus, a joint or limb (Ger. G-lied) from leithan, to go (our lead). Scott tells the story of Samuel Johnson's discussion with the elder Boswell at Auchinleck. The doctor's depreciation of Cromwell the laird clinched with, "He gar'd kings ken they had a lith in their neck." Leprosy is thruts-fill, from thriutan, to threaten and fill, the skin.

The Goth could not have been without his pleasures—witness his siggwan, to sing, also to read, doubtless a recitative in church. In this connection may be noted an odd expression that throws light on the ceremonial of Wulfila's converts. When Our Lord entered the synagogue at Nazareth on Sabbath He stood up to read, ἀνέστη ἀναγνῶναι, "us-stoth siggwan bokos," literally, stood up to sing the book. Again, a certain lawyer asked, "Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?" "What is written in the law? How readest thou?" replied Jesus. The Greek is simply πῶς ἀναγκώσκεις, but Wulfila writes, "Hwaiwa us siggwis?" how singest thou? alluding to intoning the lessons. Wherever Scripture reading occurs this verb is met with. Our word read is also in Gothic (rodjan), but in the sense of speaking. For singing in the secular sense we have liuthon (Ger. Lied), and liuthareis, a singer. The only instrument mentioned ​is the trumpet, a cow-horn most probably, and known as the thut-haurn (Du. toet-horen, Eng. toot).

Religion.—The Supreme Being is Guth, God, peculiarly Teutonic, and of uncertain origin. Wulfila refrains from using the Runic Tius. A demon is skohsl, Ger. Scheu-sal, Scheuche, a scarecrow, Sc. shoo, cf. monstrum, a thing to point the finger at. But a commoner term is un-hultha, Devil, Satan, still in Ger. un-hold (unkindness, sin), and Held, a hero, hence the favourite O.Eng. name Hilda, the gracious one. Hell is halja, the covered or hidden, cf. Hades, the unseen. The root is in hul-jan, to cover, Sc. hool of a pea, and the hulls for clothes in "Sartor Resartus." A priest is a gud-ja, or good man. The affix ja is very common as a diminutive in Sc, and specially Aberdeenshire, e.g. wifie, lassie (wifya, lass-ya).

The foregoing terms give, in considerable variety, evidence of the social and intellectual condition of the Goths. They also bear out the fact that these people were, in a veritable sense, our forefathers. A further inquiry will prove that these remains throw a very instructive light, not only backward upon the primitive condition of Teutonic Europe, but forward on many words and expressions still in common use. As we have a fuller and richer history, an older and more varied literature than any other European country, it cannot but happen with our words as with our institutions, that old friends assume new faces. Gothic, therefore, serves to show how great has been this change in meaning as well as form. The long forgotten sense in which they occur gives us a strange surprise. Sutizo comp. of suts = sweet, is in Matt. xi. 24—"Sweeter [i.e. better] will it be for Sodom at the judgment-day than for thee." Again, Mark xi. 12, coming out of Bethany the next day, Jesus was greedy (gredags) i.e. hungry. Sels, our silly, always retains its good sense, as in Ger. selig, happy, blessed, and "the silly sheep" of pastoral poetry. In the parable of the talents, Lc. xix. 22—"Thou wicked and slothful servant" is "Un-selja skalk jah lata," lit. unsilly, skulk, yea, late, four words equally good Go. and good Eng., but in a strangely altered sense. Lats = late, is always used in the sense of lazy. Its opposite, early, is air, ere, while both are in Scots as "late an' air." Modags = moody, is always angry, thus, "Whosoever is moody (modags) with his ​brother without a cause." Verbs show similar changes of sense.

The Go. swers (Ger. schwer, heavy) has been lost in English in any sense, but is still familiar in Scots as unwilling, slow to move. In the Gospels the centurion's servant was swers or dear to him. Fagrs, again, our fair, has only the sense of suitable or fit. In German and Dutch the root is very common. On the other hand, many adjectives differ little from modern forms, thus, gods (good), ubils (evil), faus (few), manags (many), reiks (rich), arms (poor, Ger. arm), leitils (little), mikils (muckle), braids (Sc. bredd, broad), kalds (cold) and gradags (greedy), fuls (foul), wairs (worse, Sc. waur). Such adjectives were compared much as now; for example, for good, better, best, we have gods, batiza, batists. A quite obsolete adjective, mins, is treated similarly, minniza, minists. It still appears as a verb, to mince, make small, common in early English.

In the list of nouns there are interesting Gothic words still common in Scots though long lost to English. In the miraculous feeding the disciples took up of the remains of the feast, laibos gabruko, literally the lave of the brock or broken bits. In Ephesians the phrase, without spot or blemish, has wamme and maile, the former O.Eng. wem, a spot, the latter such a blemish as iron-mould (Sc. eirn-mail) or rust on linen. The Apostles are to shake the dust off their feet, if not favourably received, where we have in Go. mulda, the Du. mul and Sc. mools, a favourite expression for burial, as in being "laid amone the mools." Its adjective muldeins, earthy, is applied in Sc, as moolins, to crumbs. The sponge that the soldier handed to the Christ on the Cross is a swam (Ger. Schwamm). Swumfsl is the pool of Siloam. The word is in Eng. swamp, and, as a Scots mining term, is the sumph or draining hole at the foot of the shaft. When Judas led Pilate's men to Gethsemane they carried lanterns, for which Wulfila uses skeima. It is in our shimmer, but in Scots in the older form,—

"The glare o' his e'e hath nae bard exprest,
Nor the skimes o' Aiken-drum."

—The Brownie of Blednoch.

​Slahan, which has now the special sense of slaying, in Go. means simply striking. Thus, at the Crucifixion the bystanders say: "Prophesy who is he slaying (striking) thee," "Hwa ist sa slahands thuk." This sense is old Scots,—

"Dintis,
That slew fyr as men slayis on flintis."—Barbour.

In the cricket-field a hard hitter is a slogger, retaining the old guttural. To whet is now obsolete almost, but Wulfila regularly uses it in the sense of threaten, rebuke. Thus Our Lord whets (hwotjan) the evil spirits. Shakspere makes Brutus say,—

"Since Cassius first did whet me against Cæsar
I have not slept."—Jul. Cæs.

Wopjan = weep (cf. whoop) has now quite a restricted sense, but in Go. it is used for calling aloud under all circumstances, of cock-crowing, and of the voice of the Baptist. The usual word for crying in our sense is gretan = Sc. greet. Thus Peter went out and grat bitterly (gaigrot baitraba). To whine, again, is hwainon, in the sense of mourning. Again, in Wulfila the thieves twitted (id-weit-jan), i.e. reproached, Jesus on the Cross, from a verb the same as Sc. wite = blame. Ween, now only in over-weening, is quite common in its old sense of expect, fancy. "Art thou he that should come or ween (wenjan) we another?" asked John's disciples. Be-wray, now obsolete, is wroh-jan, to accuse, e.g. "Wrohiths was fram thaim gudjam" = was accused of the priests.

This process of change goes a step farther, and introduces us to common Go. words of which scarcely a trace now survives. Go. ogan, to be in extreme fear, has been frittered down to the senseless expletive awful, yet at one time it meant death by throttling (root, agh, to choke, Lat. anguis = the throttler). Its derivatives are ogre, eager, ugly, awe. On the Borders ug-sam is still an expressive epithet. Theihan, to thrive, prosper, gives the commonest asseveration in O.Eng., "So mot I the" = so may I prosper. The thigh, Sc. thee, is the plump, well-thriven. Laikan, to leap for joy, laiks, sport, is the vulgar larks, larking. The brother of the Prodigal, coming near the house, ​hears singing and larking (laikins). Dugan, to avail, is Ger. taugen, common in O.Sc. as dow. Bums has, "Some swagger hame as best they dow" (are able), and, again, as a negative, downa. The derivative doughty, Ger. tüchtig, has the guttural sounded in Scots. The root lives in a mutilated form in, How d' you do? Anan, to breathe, a very old verb, is lost in Eng. Uz-anan is said of Our Lord giving up the ghost on the Cross. Scotch long preserved the word,—

"And thai war ayndles and wery
And thar abaid thair aynd to tan" (tane, take).

—Barbour.

Eend, breath, now obsolete, was common in Scotch of the seventeenth century. The derivative, ansts, grace, favour, Ger. Gunst for ge-unst, is a pretty metaphor in Gothic.

Some of these Gothic verbs are more obscure than others, but the difficulty vanishes on closer acquaintance. German easily accounts for such as fraihnan, to question (fragen), mitan, to cut (Messer, a knife), niman, to take (Ger. nehmen, Eng. be-numb), thaurban, to be in want (Ger. be-dürfen, to need). Of the first there is an odd example in the ballad, "As I went on ae Monday,"—

"Till him I said full soon on-ane (anon),
For furthermair I would him fraine,
Gladly would I wit (know) thy name."

In A.S. dearn, secret, is common. It is Go. ga-tarnjan, to conceal, lost in English but familiar in Scots. Its usual sense of hiding, listening, varies somewhat in the Fifeshire, "he dernd a wee," that is, paused to think. When, in the synagogue at Nazareth, the unclean spirit in the poor man called out, the Master said, "Silence! come out of him." Here the Go. word for "Silence" is thahai, the imperative of thahan, cognate with Lat. taceo, to be silent.

German is in a much more archaic and homogeneous condition than modern English, and, therefore, one is quite prepared for many points of connection between it and Gothic. But they belong to different branches of the Teutonic family. Gothic, a Low-German speech, is closely allied to the Scandinavian group of Teutonic tongues, and therefore akin to Lowland ​Scots, which, as distinctively Northern in character and largely influence by Norse, has preserved many antique forms. Here one finds the most astonishing identities, not alone in form and sense, but in pronunciation and minute turns of expression. The Goth said hwan, than, nu, ut, na, ain, haim, braid, gagg (gang), for when, then, now, out, no, one, home, broad, go. For "Suffer little children to come to me," Wulfila says, but slightly changed, "Let thay[13] bairns gang to me." A hypocrite is a liuta = one that loots. The apostles, sent out to preach, are to take ane rung (one staff, aina hrugga). One is to lay upon the altar a hunsl as a gift, which is just hansel in Handsel-Monday, and Shakspere's "unhouseled" in "Hamlet." The leaven of the Pharisees, in translating the Greek ζύμη (cf. zymotic[14] diseases), Lat. fermentum, is called beist, from beitan, to bite, in Scotland known as the first milk of the cow after calving. Milk itself is a dissyllable (miluks), just as one hears it now in Dutch. "Blessed are the merciful" appears as bleiths = the blate = coy, modest. St. Luke tells Theophilus that he has followed the Gospel story glegly (glaggwuba), or accurately (ἀκριβῶς), from the beginning, suggestion the Scrots phrase "gleg i' the uptak," sharp of wit. The gospel mystery, again, was concealed from the wise and prudent and revealed to babes. For babes here we have niu-klahs = new-born. Can this be the klekkin and klekkit, familiar to every Scottish laddie that has kept rabbits? The homeliness of the expression is almost shocking, but in language, as in life, there are plenty of poor relations. The hireling shepherd in the parable is betrayed by his "stibna framaths," his fremmit or strange voice. The Gadarene demoniac is wods = mad, Sc. wud, on which Shakspere puns in "Mid-summer Night's Dream"—"Wood within the wood," scarcely intelligible to southron readers. Another Shaksperian phrase "The wild waves whisht," in the "Tempest," is paralleled in Go. by the very Sc. expression, "There was a muckle wheesh," = and "Jah warth wis mikil" following our Lord's rebuke of the waves. Other peculiar terms oddly survive in Scots. Thus, James and John were partners—ga-dailans—of Simon, a word used ​with precisely the same force among our herring fishers, who go as dealsmen and half-dealsmen. A common asseveration is "bi sunjai," the "verily" of the Authorised Version. Quite a long story might be told of this word and its cognates ; enough to say it lives in Sc. "My san!" a variant of "My certe!" Professor Skeat connects "sunja" with our archaic "sooth."

Turning now to verbs we find similar evidence of identity. The Goth said bide (beidan) for staying in a place. Jesus asks of the unbelieving generation, How long must I thole (thulan) you? Bartimæus, now no longer blind, throwing off (af-wairp-ands) his robe and loupin up (us-hlaujpands), cam at (to) Jesus. The elect are the waled (waljan) or chosen. The crown of thorns—wipja us thaurnum—is a wuppin o' thorns, from wipjan, to twist or plait, the Sc. wup, beautifully used in the ballad of Sir Patrick Spens,—

"Gae fetch a wab o' the silken claith
Anither o' the twine;
And wap them in til oor gude ship's side,
And let na the sea come in."

The regular verb in Go. for the act of perception is gaumjan, the expressive Sc. gumpshin. For a strictly mental act Wulfila uses hugjan, to think, which, with the particle of reversal, for, Ger. ver, is Sc. for-hoo, to forsake, as in "Johnny Gibb," "I wadna say nor the laird wud hae to forhoo's bit bonny nest." To strike or cuff with the open hand is kaupat-jan, Sc. gowpen. Finally giutan, to pour out water, is quite a Sc. favourite, and developed curious meanings such as gyte = silly (cf. Lat. ef-futio from the same root). In "Johnny Gibb" is "Loshtie, man, ye're seerly gyaun gyte," and again from an old poem,—

"Wark, ye ken yersels, brings drouth
Wha can thole a gaisen[15] mouth!"

Lowland Scots preserves many such verbs in their Gothic senses and sometimes even in sound. Thus gairnjan, to yearn for, is heard better in Sc. girn than its equivalent grin; bismeitan, used when Christ anoints the blind man's eyes, is ​nearer Sc. smit than Eng. smut; kannjan, to make to know, is not only heard in Sc. ken but in the phrase "a kennin," a sample; diwan, to die, is often heard in Sc. dwine, a dwinin, to fade away from such an illness as consumption, or a decline, as it was called of old; mundon, to observe, is akin in use to Sc. mind, pay attention to; brukjan, to make use of, is the archaic brook (Ger. brauchen). When the question is put to Christ as to paying tribute to Cæsar (kaisara-gild), he asks, "Why temptest thou me? " Wulfila puts it thus: "Hwa mik fraisith?" using a verb that in Scots means flattering, wheedling. The Go. jiukan, to contend, and jiuka, strife, explains the Scots expression "a yokin," "he yokit on me," in precisely the same sense. We use went as the past of go from Go. wandjan, but Scots keeps to the older form, Go. iddja, as gaed, the yode of Old English.

When we turn from the vocables of a language, as evidence of its character and pedigree, to its grammar we are on firmer ground. For in the one case the materials are in a perpetual flux, each district, generation, social set, individual even, giving a new meaning to the old stock or borrowing from without, whereas in the other we have the permanent bed of the stream, deeply grooved with the flow of ages. In language, as in the features of Nature, age conceals itself under the guise of familiarity. Who thinks, as he follows the course of some wimpling burn, that he is gazing on what is older than the oldest historical monument in existence, or dreams that the variations of case and number in his own speech were evolved in an age long anterior to the Vaidic hymns. For these are the grammatical formulæ of his race, perennial as the very laws of thought. Historical grammar is in the study of language what morphology is in the natural sciences treated biologically. In both directions we see persistency of type, co-existent with endless modifications in obedience to the demands of functional growth and decay. Thus, what seem to be arbitrary formulæ, mere atrophied structure, become in the light of historical grammar natural and significant. Many of the so-called anomalies of English grammar can thus be invested with meaning and interest. The historical grammarian has not evidence enough to give us the ultimate analysis of those conventional ​formative elements—number, gender, and case; but he can tell us why one says methinks, but a child may not say me likes nurse; why an Englishman's like I do is wrong, but his give 'em (not for them) it right; why drownded, Shakspere's swounded (swooned) and once-t are no more correct than sounded (Lat. sonare) and whilst (by false analogy from whiles); and why a Scotsman uses hit for it and speaks of a cattle beast and a widow woman. The answer to these and many more such questions is found better in Gothic than anywhere else, for this reason, that it places us so near to the primitive type of Teutonic speech, undisturbed by subsequent functional derangement. Hence it is indispensable to the scientific study of English grammar, just as it in turn is illuminated by the living vernacular of Scotland.

It would be impossible, within reasonable limits, to give anything like a full account of Gothic grammar. Merely a few points can be selected, and these such as prove the essential identity of the language with our own, and at the same time elucidate modern idiom and expression. Gothic is, like German, highly inflected. Wulfila cannot equal the richness of the Greek verb, but is able to convey to his countrymen with sufficient accuracy the spirit of so subtle and flexible a language. The basis of conjugation is the familiar distinction between strong and weak verbs, or what might rather be called primary and derivative. Gothic properly makes this turn on what is the cardinal function of the verb, the expression of preterite or past time. The primitive and very natural mode of doing so is by reduplication of the root, and this is well preserved here as in Greek. The idea of past time might very well be expressed by stress on present. Tee-total is said to be the result of a stuttering orator's endeavour to emphasise total abstinence. Traces of the process exist in Latin, either obvious, as cado, cecidi, or disguised, as fac-io, fec-i for fe-fac-i. Our did, Go. di-da, is the sole English survival of this process, but we have in Gothic several specimens of the feci-type, as hold, held (Go. hald, hai-hald), take, took (têk, tai-tôk), Sc. greet, grat (grêt, gai-grot). This process must have become at an early period merely conventional, as the rule in Gothic is not to repeat the root-vowel but the initial consonant and a uniform light vowel, ai = e, in met. Even at this early stage the further step had ​been taken, and many verbs originally reduplicating are treated as they are now, e.g. Go. bind, band = bind, bound; sit, sat. This is the result of a shifting of the accent due to the addition of personal endings, similar to what we see in photográph, photógraphy, cáput, capitís. Hence have arisen the monosyllabic preterites that we find in Go., Ger. and Eng. These processes exhausted themselves ages ago. Not a single strong verb has been developed within the historical period. The younger weak and derivative inflection supplies our increasing wants, and, like Jacob, appropriates the heritage of its elder brother. "We say helped, dragged, slipped, for example, for the Go. halp, drôg, slaup. A Scotsman even says begoud for began, and, still worse, seen for saw, hoten for hit, and putten for put. It was a Glasgow merchant, they say, who, visiting the Louvre, remarked in answer to his French conductor's "This is a portrait of Burke, your great countryman," "Dod, maan, I seen him hanged."

But the best proof of the value of Gothic as an aid to historical grammar is to be found in the analysis it renders possible of our weak preterites in -d and -ed. There we see that they are really compounds, like will go, am walking, &c. The auxiliary do has coalesced with the stem, so that I love is just I love-did. The Go. tam-jan, to tame, in its past, is declined on the model of love-did.

S. P.
tam-i-da tam-i-dêd-um
„dês (for dedt) „dêd-uth
„da „dêd-un.

Strange to say, the very common Teut. verb to do is not found as a separate verb in Gothic. It must have reduplicated and formed its pret. as S. di-da, di-des, di-da: Pl. di-ded-um, and so on. The first syllable disappears when used as a compound tense. It thus appears that, even where apparently we see tense indicated in Eng. by modification of the stem, we really use an auxiliary. Gothic uses this composite tense as freely as we do now. At the grave of Lazarus "Jesus wept" (ἐδάκρυσεν), which Wulfila renders, "Jah tagrida Jesus," as if we were to ​say, and Jesus teared. In Matt, xxvii. 1, "That they might kill him," is "Ei af-dauthi-dedeina ina," reminding one of what the child said of the murdered fly, "Me deaded it."

This preterite tense is the only time inflection in Gothic. In common with all the Teut. languages it had no future. Wulfila renders the Greek future variously, most frequently by using the subjunctive. In Latin, as every boy knows, the Fut. Ind. and Pres. Subj. of some conjugations are perplexingly like each other. He also uses the Indic. and part. present, e.g. I coming heal him = Ik quimando gahailja ina, for I coming will heal him; "Thai guth gasaihwand," i.e. they seeing God, for they will see. Circumlocutions he employs, just as we may now say, I am going to, about to, intend to, have to. Our auxiliaries shall and will are always independent verbs in Gothic, with the decided meaning of duty and wish. Such is the tense condition of the Teutonic verb; the other forms which grammarians parade in English are simply imitations of Latin. All this goes to show that in primitive times little advance had been made in developing this, one of the subtlest and most abstract of conceptions. Even yet the commonest errors in translation, as every teacher knows, are due to confusion of tenses.

Many more striking illustrations of the value of Gothic to the student of grammar might be adduced. Suffice it to refer to one more verbal form, the passive. Here Gothic throws a unique light on the primitive condition of the Teutonic tongues. These all, like English, never had a conjugational or simple passive. We are so familiar with it in Greek and Latin that we can scarcely realise our poverty here. In point of fact, young learners have the greatest difficulty in grasping the conception of a passive. They fail to see the difference between I am struck and I am sick. For, in a compound tense such as am struck, the participle, which we call the main verb, is nothing more than an adjective in predicative relation to the subject. English, and still more French and German, avoid the passive by the use of indefinite and reflexive pronouns. Thus the book has been found is in German the book has found itself. Colloquially we regularly avoid the passive by using the indefinite they as a subject. Other modern languages adopt to an excessive extent reflexive forms. Thus, Italian has for it is said, it says ​itself. Even Gothic preserves merely a trace of a passive inflection by simple derivation from the stem as bairada, bairanda (from bairan, to bear) φέρεται, φέρονται. But the favourite mode is our modern one of circumlocution, with participles and auxiliaries, or by a peculiar formation from a passive participle in—na, our—en in brok-en. Thus, from mikils, Sc. muckle, mikilnan, to be enlarged, from hauhs = high hauhnan, to be exalted. Slight traces of this still survive in learn and own. The former is from an original lais-nan, to be lered or taught. German shows this distinction of act. and pass. senses well in lehr-en (active, to teach), where h is not radical, and lern-en, to be taught, to learn. Own, again, is an original agnan (A.S. ag-nian), to be possessed, from (Go.) aigan, to have, owe. These forms are, however, not true passives, being simply the participle with the adjectival ending—na or en, treated as a verb, very much as we still do, e.g. "Fallen, thy throne, O Israel!" or = Fallen's thy throne, O Israel. In all these cases the participle is merely an adjective used predicatively. I am loved is not a form like amor, but really I am (one) loved.

The ultimate elements in grammar are two-fold, verbal and pronominal. In a now-forgotten book, the "Diversions of Purley," Horne Tooke showed a century ago that nouns, which bulk so largely in grammar, are merely epithets formed from verbal roots. It is said that our man, the thinker, is the only case of a Teut. root used directly as a noun. The pronominal elements are the abbreviations of speech, in themselves non-significant marks of identity. Their inflexion, as pronouns, is peculiar. We have lost many of the Gothic forms, but preserve a few, e.g. the old dative in -m as him, them, whom (found also in seldom, whilom), and the neuter of demonstratives in -t as it that, what. The masc. accus. sing. in -na one hears in Sc. thone, not a mistake for you. Thus Peter, in his denial, said, “Ni kanna thana mannan" = I kenna thone man. The full form of I, Go. ik, has quite gone. In "King Lear," the disguised Edgar, using the Somersetshire dialect, says, “Keep out, che vor' ye," Go. ik warja thuk = I warn you. When the two disciples are told to find the colt in the village over against, Wulfila uses the dual of the pronoun, for Go. had a dual here as well as in the ​verb. A more serious loss is that of the reflexive, which German preserves (of. Go. sik, Ger. sich).

Turning lastly to demonstratives and relatives, we find still further interest in Gothic grammar. The article is exactly what we see in Sanskrit and Greek. Its feminine survives in she, its neuter as that, which Sc. treats as an article, e.g. "Gie me that poker" for "Give me the poker." The nom. plur. of that (which is not those) we use as the old plur. of he, but in Sc. it is rightly used, as Go. thai bokos = Sc. thay books. The proper plural of he Chaucer uses regularly. In Shakspere its dative is frequent, though his editors substitute for it them. It is not in Gothic, except in a few adverbial phrases, such as to-day (himma daga, ef. Sc. the day). The relative is very imperfectly developed. The correlation of adjectival clauses is effected mainly by the addition of an indeclinable particle -ei to pronouns and demonstratives, as ik-ei = I who. This is just what might be expected, for the use of the relative implies a distinct advance in composition and the inter-dependence of clauses. Its growth is always slow, and the usage of cognate tongues far from uniform. The reader of Dickens knows that when the uneducated attempt to go beyond the rudimentary stage in composition of ands and buts and wells, and aspire to relatives, they throw about their which's very freely. The primitive relative is usually a pronominal particle (Go. -ei above is the Sanskrit ya), or the article, the indeclinable the (our article) of A.Sax. and the abbreviated unemphatic relative that or 'at of Scots, due, in the opinion of Dr. Murray ("Dialects of Lowland Scotland"), not to Norse but Celtic influence. A Gaelic speaker will say he for the throughout. The Irish peasant makes it dee. On the other hand the pure Lowland Scot says Foorsday (Thursday), and squeezes out the dental between vowels as persistently as the Cumberland man has laal and oude for little and old.

This relative one constantly hears in Scots. It can be traced from the oldest vernacular, the twelfth century "Laws of the Four Burghs," down to the speech of to-day. In such imitation Scots as Burns often wrote we have wha instead. Thus, "Scots wha hae" would be in Barbour "Scottis at hes," as Dr. Murray well shows. Our forms—who, which, that—have an interesting ​history. That is simply the demonstrative, and has its own appropriate use; but who, whose, whom, what, which, are really interrogatives. They are so in Sanskrit, where who is ka as in Gaelic (co) still. Sans. and Gr. clearly differentiate relative and interrogative, not so Lat. Who as a relative in Eng. was not recognised by Ben Jonson, the author of our earliest English Grammar, who says "one relative which." Dr. Furnivall says it was first used once in Wyclif's Bible, and very sparingly till Shakspere. In Gothic the interrogative is hwa-s, Sc. whaw, whae; its instrumental hwé we have in why, Sc. hoo, foo. A peculiar idiom is the Scots at hoo for how that. Which is a descriptive form of adjectival relationship quite distinct from who. Latin qualis, Fr. lequel, Ger. der welcher, and Shakspere's the which, all show this peculiarity. Gothic proves it to be a compound, where it is hwi-leiks. The first member is wha = wha; leiks is the word for body, as in Lich-field, lich-gate. This is our like, both separately and in composition, as in life-like = lively. For it has become our general adverbial suffix, -ly, e.g. like-ly = like-like. Sanskrit affords a curious parallel; Lat. corpus, a body, is the Sans. kalpa, which also forms adverbs in the sense of like, but not quite, e.g. pandita-kalpa = a quasi-pundit. Scottish people similarly use like in making explanations, e.g. He gie'd it to me like; I gaed wi' him a mile like.

The following table exhibits the pronominal compounds of like, to which Sc. adds thi-lk = that-like:—

Gothic. Scots. German. English.
Hwi-leik hwi-lk we-lch(er) whi-ch
Swa-leik swi-lk = sic so-lch(er) su-ch
Ana-leiks i-lk and ilk-a a(h)n-lich ea-ch, on-ly,

The foregoing imperfect sketch of this fascinating subject is an attempt to tell the strange story of the Gothic MS. and its enlightened author, of the people among whom he laboured, and the sad fate that has buried them in oblivion. On the fragmentary evidence of the Gospels, excluding altogether the Epistles, I have endeavoured to illustrate the intellectual condition of the Goths in the fourth century, and to prove that whatever there is in the language of to-day that we regard as most homely and familiar, the indispensable materials of every​day intercourse, and the very formulæ under which our thought must find expression, all lived in the mouths of our remote Gothic ancestors in their rude tuns and burgs by the banks of the Danube, while this land of ours was still a Roman colony. Do such records not awaken a deeper interest than a blurred footprint in the Red Sandstone, or even an inscribed brick from a Chaldæn mound? Jacob Grimm, the father of comparative philology, found in Gothic the clue to many of his researches, and based upon his study of it those principles which have illuminated the whole field of linguistics. During the seventy years that have intervened since he completed his great Grammar, in 1837, philologists have never lost sight of the value of Gothic. The Wulfilic remains have appeared in various forms, but the field has been almost entirely left to German scholars, and this in spite of the fact that their language is, for many reasons, the farthest removed from the true type of a Teutonic speech. The English Universities are strong in classical philology, but in every other department the German easily holds the field. The best Celtic dictionary and grammar, the most complete collection of Anglo-Saxon literature, the only concordance to Shakspere worthy of the name, the most complete English grammar—these, among many other works, have been left to the foreigner. Bosworth gave us a text of the Gothic Gospels, Professor Skeat has done much to popularise the study, and quite recently Mr. Douse has published a very elaborate and very scientific treatise of about three hundred pages, which may be an "Introduction to Gothic," though it must be barely intelligible to anyone who has not worked long and well at the subject. But the surprising feature is that, whereas German scholars, many of them much like our secondary schoolmasters, have so successfully prosecuted such studies, and Englishmen only in a fragmentary fashion and generally under the mantle of the universities, Scotsmen have contributed nothing to the subject, yet they possess an unbroken stream of literature from the twelfth century to the days of Burns and Scott, and, what is of more importance, they have, not from books or the mistaken theories of teachers, but as a living product, native to the soil that bore them, a rich system of phonetics, a homely, pithy vocabulary, and a genuine Teutonic ​idiom, vastly more archaic than the academic and conventional printed speech of the English scholar. To the Scot, therefore, the language and idiom of our old writers and of Wulfila have a freshness, a directness, and a meaning which are scarcely possible to any but an exceptionally favoured Southron. In proof of this contrast take two such works as Barnes's Poems in the Dorset dialect and the Banffshire tale of "Johnny Gibb." Whereas the one must be almost a foreign tongue to the average Englishman, no intelligent Scot, especially if born and reared in a country district, need miss in the other one point of its inimitable humour, its pithy, pawky turns of idiom and expression, and the real genius that created its character and incident. But, alas! in spite of such native advantages of Scottish scholarship. Dr. Johnson might still say of it that everyone here gets a mouthful but no one may make a meal of learning. Such works as "Johnny Gibb," the late Dr. Gregor's "Banffshire Glossary," Edmonston's work on Orcadian, the Scots contributions to Professor Wright's "English Dialect Dictionary," and Dr. Murray on the dialects of the South of Scotland, are invaluable for the study of our fast-decaying vernacular. To the philologist a vernacular is vastly more instructive than any mere book-speech, for in the field of dialectic growth and decay the real problems of language must be studied. In such fields there is almost everything to] be done for our own vernacular. Who will do for the north-eastern counties, for Fife and the Lothians, for Lanark and Ayr, what Dr. Murray has so well done for the Scots of the Border counties? Is Jamieson, even in his latest form, a scientific record of our vocables? Is there not room for some scholarly account of Gaelic, Norse, and French influence on Scots? Who will treat philologically the relics of the oldest vernacular in burgh and parliamentary records, the diction of our folk-lore and ballad minstrelsy, and even of Burns and Scott, or popularise our national epic, Barbour's "Brus"? Whoever should attempt to cultivate any one of these spheres of linguistic research will render his labours more valuable by a previous acquaintance with the Gothic of Wulfila.

​

2. Specimens from the "Gothic Gospels" of Wulfila.

In treating of the language of the most interesting of the Low-German races, the Goths of Moesia on the Lower Danube, during the fourth century of our era, I have aimed at presenting merely an introduction and in no way an exhaustive treatise. I have had the further object of demonstrating to the student of Lowland Scots the value and the extent of his inheritance in that forgotten speech. I know of no other treatment of the subject from this point of view. Professor Skeat, so long ago as 1868, rendered the study immensely interesting to the merely English scholar in his "Moeso-Gothic Glossary," of which I have made the most ample use in the following pages. He has put this English standpoint fairly and forcibly: "To study Moeso-Gothic is, practically, more the business of Englishmen than of anyone else—excepting perhaps the Dutch. Though it is not strictly an older form of Anglo-Saxon, it comes sufficiently near to render a study of it peculiarly interesting and instructive to us, and a thing by no means to be neglected." This exception of Dutch, one of the most modernised and cosmopolitan of the Teutonic stock, is not a very happy one, nor can Anglo-Saxon in the mouth of the Englishman of to-day be mentioned in the same breath with the still living hold of the Lowland Scot on his Gothic original through his Northumbrian and Frisian ancestry. Professor Skeat has made Gothic still more accessible through his "Gospel of St. Mark in Gothic" (Clarendon Press, 1882). More exhaustive is the "Introduction to Gothic" of Mr. T. le Marchant Douse, 1886. For a complete text, grammar and philological examination we must look to German writers. Of these by far the most practical and accessible are F. L. Stamm and Dr. Moritz Heyne, 1872 (text, grammar, glossary), and Wilhelm Braune (Gotische Grammatik, 1887). Needless to say, neither makes any use of Lowland Scots.

The version I have placed alongside of Wulfila for comparison through the following extracts is taken from "The New Testament in Scots, being Purvey's Revision of Wycliffe's Version turned into Scots by Murdoch Nisbet, c. 1520," ed. ​by the late T. Graves Law, LL.D. While among the very oldest specimens of Scots prose, and strictly comparable with Gothic on the score of subject-matter, it has the disadvantage of reflecting unduly the influence of contemporary English. For it must be remembered that the Scots never had a native Bible or Psalter. Nearly all the popular Reformation literature was produced under the influence of English. Nisbet's version was at no time in general use.

The more than literal versions of the passages here presented are not intended to be read as a translation or rendering of their sense. The words employed do not always convey such an acceptation as would satisfy the mere modern reader. That purpose is sufficiently met by the accompanying rendering into Lowland Scots, valuable in itself as supplying a philological commentary, or by the version in common use. Any rendering that is cognate with the corresponding word in the text, whether old or modern English, Lowland Scots or German, is adopted. Words that have no such cognates are italicised, while anything necessary to complete the sense is put in brackets. The mere look of the text, therefore, should show how much of the language spoken in Moesia in the fourth century has still representatives, more or less distantly related.

As an aid to the text and translation some knowledge of the grammar is necessary. No complete scheme need be given here, but pronominals and connectives, as they so frequently recur, will give good return for some attention. In the personals (I and thou) only the plurals call for notice. Of the cases the nom., poss. and obj. are—for I, weis (we), uns (us), unsara (of us and our); for thou, jus (ye), izwis (you), izwara (of you, your). Little has survived of the third person pronoun, so that it has to be shown entire, distinguishing termination from stem. This stem is the unemphatic demonstrative i-. The equivalents here given are the Anglo-Saxon forms:

Masc. Fem. Neut.
Sing.— N. i-s = he si = heo i-ta = hit
Acc. i-na = him i-ja = her i-ta = hit
Gen. i-s = his i-zai = hire i-s = his
Dat. i-mma = him i-zos = her i-mma = hit
​
Masc. Fem. Neut.
Sing.— N. ei-s = hi ijô-s ija
Acc. i-ns = hi ijô-s ija
Gen. i-zê = hira i-zo i-zê
Dat. i-m = him i-m i-m

The A.S. has but one set of forms for plural. Lowland Scots has preserved hit. Morris says, "Hine = him is still retained , in the Southern dialect, as 'I seed en.' Shee and thay do not occur in any pure Southern writer before a.d. 1387." Our plurals here are borrowed from the demonstrative. "Thai (they), thair, thaim are Northern forms, and are not used by Southern writers" (Morris). We use the original forms colloquially in such phrases as "Give 'em it," for the personal him not them. The A.S. forms accompany here the Gothic:—

Masc. Fem. Neut.
Sing.— N. sa = se sô = seo tha-ta = thaet
Acc. tha-na = thone thô = thâ tha-ta = thaet
Gen. thi-s = thaes thi-zôs = thaere thi-s = thaes
Dat. tha-mma = tham thi-zai = thaere tha-mma = thâm
Plur.— N. thai = thâ thô-s thô
Acc. tha-ns = thâ thô-s thô
Gen. thi-ze = thâra thi-zo thi-zê
Dat. thai-m = thâm thai-m thi-m

It will be noticed in the above forms that Go. z becomes the modern r according to rule. Of these Gothic forms Scots preserves thone for acc. sing, and thai for plurals, as "thai books." The neut. sing. that it uses as the definite article both singular and (in Aberdeenshire) plural. The remoter demonstrative, those is thirr. By the addition of uh or h, an enclitic cognate with Lat. -que, the strong form of the Go. demonstrative is formed. Similarly both personals and demonstratives become relatives by the addition -ei, also used independently as a connective. Lastly, an old pronominal stem, hi = this, survives only in certain adverbial phrases, himma daga = to-day, fram himma = henceforth, und hina dag = to this day, und hita nu — till now, hitherto.

​Mr. Douse has transliterated a passage to show the pronunciation of Gothic. As it adds great confidence, and even light, in learning a language to read it aloud, this passage will form the best introduction to the extracts given below.

Mark's Gospel—Gothic Version (c. a.d. 365).

Chapter IV., Verses 1-20.

1. Jah
Yăh
Yea 		aftra
ăftră
after 		Jêsus
Yaysŏos
Jesus 		dugann
dŏogănn
began 		laisjan
lais-yan
to-lere 		at
ăt
at
marein;
măreen;
(the)-mere; 		jah
Yăh
and 		galêsun
gălaysŏon
gathered 		sik
sik
selves 		du
dŏo
to 		imma
immă
'em
filu,
fĭlŏo,
fell 		manageins
mănăgeens
many 		swaswê
swăsway
so as 		ina
ĭna
him 		galeithandan
găleethăndăn
leading (going)
in
in
in 		skip
skip
ship 		gasitan
gasĭtan
he-sat 		in
in
on 		marein;
măreen;
mere; 		jah
yăh
and 		alla
ăll
all
sô
sô
the (she) 		managei
mănăgee (g hard)
many 		withra
withră
over-against
(Ger. wieder) 		marein
măreen
the-mere 		ana
ănă
on 		statha
stăthă
stead 		was.
wăs.
was.
2. Jah
Yah
And 		laisida
laisidă
lered-he 		ins
ins
them 		gajukôm
găyŏokôm
yokes (parables) 		manag,
mănăg,
many, 		jah
yăh
and
3. quath
quăth
quoth 		im
im
'm 		in
in
in 		laiseinai
laiseenai
lere-ing 		seinai:
seenai:
his: 		Hauseith!
Howseeth!
Hear-ye
Sai,
Sai,
See 		urrann
ŏorrăn
owre-ran (arose) 		sa
să
the 		saiands
saiands
sowing-(one) 		du
dŏo
to 		saian
saian
sow
​
4. fraiwa
fraiwă
seed 		seinamma.
seenamma.
his 		Jah
Yăh
And it chanced 		warth,
wărth,
(worth) 		mith-thanei
mith-thanei
while
saísô,
sĕsô,
he-sowed, 		sum
sŏom
some 		raíhtis
rĕhtis
richt 		gadraus
gadrows
y-drossed
(fell) 		faúr
for
fore 		wig,
wig,
the-way 		jah
yăh
and
quêmun
quaymun
cam 		fuglês
fŏoglôs
the-fowls 		jah
yah
and 		frêtun
fraytŏon
fret (ate) 		thata.
thăta.
that.
5. Antharuth-than
Antharuth-than
antarn-ains (then) 		godraus
gadrows
y-drossed 		ana
ănă
on-(to) 		stainahamma
stainahamma,
stony (places),
tharei
thăree
there
(where it) 		ni
nĭ
nae 		habaida
habaida
had 		áirtha
ĕrtha
airth 		managa;
mănaga;
mony; 		jah
yăh
and
suns
sŏons
soon 		urrann,
ŏorran,
owre-ran 		in
in
in this 		thizei
thĭzee
(because it) 		ni
ni
nae 		habaida
habaida
had
6. diupaizôs
dyŏopaizôs
deepness 		áirthôs:
ĕrthôs:
of-earth: 		at
ăt
But 		sunnin
sŏonnin
sun 		than
than
then
urrinnandin
ŏorrĭnnăndin
owre-rinnin 		ufbrann,
ŏofbrăn,
up-brunt (it), 		jah,
yăh,
and 		untê
ŏontay
unto (because) 		ni
nĭ
nae
7. habaida
habaida
had 		waúrtins,
wŏrtins,
worts, 		gathaúrsnôda.
gathŏrsnôda.
it-thirsted. 		Jah
Yăh
Yea 		sum
sŏom
some
gadraus
gadrows
y-drossed 		in
in
in 		thaúrnuns;
thŏrnŏons;
thorns; 		jah
yăh
and 		ufarstigun
ŏofarstĭgŏon
over-styed
thai
thai
thai 		thaúrnjus
thŏrnyŏos
thorns 		jah
yăh
and 		afhwapidêdun
afhwăpĭdaydŏon
aff-whoopit-it (choked) 		thata,
thătă,
that,
​
8. jah
yăh
yea 		akran
ăkrăn
acorn (fruit of
the fields) 		ni
nĭ
nane 		gaf.
găf.
it gave. 		Jah
Yăh
And 		sum
sŏom
some 		gadraus
gadrows
y-dross 		in
ĭn
in
áirtha
ĕrtha
airth 		gôda,
gôda,
good, 		jah
yăh
and 		gaf
găf
gave 		akran,
ăkrăn,
acorn, 		urrinnandô
ŏorrinnando
owre-rinnin
jah
yăh
and 		wahsjandô,
wăhs-yăndô,
waxing; 		jah
yăh
yea 		bar
băr
bare 		ain
ain
ane 		·l·
(30) 		(= thrins
thrĭns-
three,
tens, jah
yăh
and 		ain
ain
ane 		·j·
(60) 		(= sáihs tiguns),
sĕhs-tĭgŏons,
six-tens, 		jah
yăh
and
9. ain
ain
ane 		·r·=
(100) 		(taíhun-taíhund).
tĕhŏon-tĕhŏond.
ten-tens 		—Jah
Yăh
Yea 		quath:
quăth:
quoth-he
Saei
Săee
Who-ever 		habai
habai
have 		ausōna
owsônă
ears 		hausjandōna
hows-yăndônă
to-hear
gahausjai.
gahowsyai.
hear-he.

Notes to the Gothic Version.

1. Jah is the same as yea and Ger. ja, though the sense sometimes requires the rendering, and: galesun, perf. of lisan, A.S. lease—to glean, galeithandan, pres. part. leithan, A.S. lithan, lead, Ger. laden: withra—against (cf. with-stand).

2. Ga-jukom from jukan to yoke, and, with collective ga, a parable as being a parallel, something paired.

3. Fraiw—seed, Eng. fry: 4. warth, from wairthan, to become, Ger. werden, common in O.Eng., and used by Scott, "Woe worth the day!"

5. Antharuth-anthar-uh, other, Sc. antarin, ither, Ger. ander.

7. Waurtins, a root, wort, orts (Shaksp.), orchard, Ger. Wurzel: ga-draus, perf. drius-an, to fall with ga-, cf. y-clad.

Af-hwapjan, to choke, from hwapjan, a variant of whopan, to boast, whoop-cf. a whopper, whooping-cough.

8. Akran, from akrs, a field, not connected with oak or acorn.

​

Mark's Gospel–Lowland Scots Version (c. 1520).

Chapter IV., Verses 1-20.

1. Ande eftir Jesus began to teche at the see: and mekile pepile was gaderit to him, sa that he went into a boot, and sat in the see; and al the pepile was about the see on the land. 2. And he taucht thame in parabilis mony thingis, and he said to thame in his teching, 3. Here ye; lo, a man sawand gais out to saw: 4. And the quhile he sawis, sum sede fell about the way and briddis of heuen com and ete it. 5. Vther fell on stany places, quhare it had nocht meikle erde; and anon it sprang vp, for it had nocht depnes of erde: 6. And quhen the sonn raase vp, it wallowit for heete; and it dried vp, for it had nocht rute. 7. And vther fel doun into thornis, and the thornis sprang vp, and strangilit it, and it gafe nocht fruite. 8. And vther fel doun into gude land, and gafe fruite springand vp and waxand; and aan brocht furthe threttifald, aan sextifald, and aan a hundrethfald. 9. And he said, He that has eeris of hering, here he. 10. And quhen he was be himself, tha that war with him askit him to expone the parabile.

Notes to the Scots Version.

2. Taucht, pret. of teach, preserving the strong guttural.

4. Ete, pret. of the strong verb, eat.

5. Erde, Sc. yird: verb and noun, yirdit—buried, showing pa-part. prefix ge-

6. Wallowit, withered: Go. walwjan, to roll, wallow, Sc. derivative form, wiltit.

Luke's Gospel—Wulfila's Version.

Chapter II., Verses 4-20.

4. Urran than jah Iosef us Galeilaia, us baurg Nazaraith, in Iudaian, in baurg Daweidis sei haitada Bethlahaim, duthe ei was us garda fadreinais Daweidis,

5. Anameljan mith Mariin sei in fragiftim was imma queins, wisandein inkilthon.

6. Warth than, miththanei tho wesun jainar, usfullnodedun dagos du bairan izai. ​ 7. Jah gabar sunu seinana thana frumabaur, jah biwand ina, jah galagida ina in uzetin, unte ni was im rumis instada thamma.

8. Jah hairdjos wesun in thamma samin landa, thairhwak- andans jah witandans wahtwom nahts ufaro hairdai seinai.

9. Ith aggilus fraujins anakwam ins jah wulthus fraujins biskain ins, jah ohtedun agisa mikilamma.

10. Jah kwath du im sa aggilus : ni ogeith, unte sai, spillo izwis faheid mikila, sei wairthith allai managein,

11. Thatei gabaurans ist izwis himma daga nasjands, saei ist Xristus frauja, in baurg Daweidis.

12. Jah thata izwis taikns: bigitid barn biwundan jah galagid in uzetin.

13. Jah anaks warth mith thamma aggilau managei harjis himinakundis hazjandane guth jah kwithandane:

14. Wulthus in hauhistjam gutha jah ana airthai gawairthi in mannam godis wiljins.

15. Jah warth, bithe galithun fairra im in himin thai aggiljus, jah thai mans thai hairdjos kwethun du sis misso: thairhgaggaima ju und Bethlahaim, jah saihwaima waurd thata waurthano, thatei frauja gakannida unsis.

16. Jah kwemun sniumjandans, jah bigetun Marian jah Iosef jah thata barn ligando in uzetin.

17. Gasaihwandans than gakannidedun bi thata waurd thatei rodith was du im bi thata barn.

18. Jah allai thai gahausjandans sildaleikidedun bi tho rodidona fram thaim hairdjam du im.

19. Ith Maria alla gafastaida tho waurda thagkjandei in hairtin seinamma.

20. Jah gawandidedum sik thai hairdjos mikiljandans jah hazjandans guth in allaize thizeei gahausidedun jah gasehwun swaswe rodith was du im.

Transliteration of the Gothic Version, Luke II. 4-20.

4. Our-ran (arose) then yea Joseph out-of Galilee, out of the burg Nazareth, in Judea, in David's burg that is-hight Bethlehem, to the-that (=because that) he-was out-of the yard of-the-family (father-hood) of-David.

5. To-be-inscribed mid Mary who in free-gift was to-him quean, being in-child. ​ 6. Worth then, mid-than-that (=while) thae were yonder, out-full-did (=fulfilled) the-days to her bearing.

7. And she-bore her son thone foremost-born, and be-wound him, and laid him in an oot-eatin (thing), because nae was to-them room in the stead.

8. And herds were in the same land, throoch-waking and witting watches by-nicht over their herd.

9. But the angel of-the frea on-cam to-them, and the-glory of the-frea be-shone them, yea they-awed with-muckle awe.

10. And quoth to 'em the angel: be-awed not, for see, spell-I to-you muckle joy, that worth (ariseth to all the-many,

11. That born is to-you the-day a-Saviour, he-that is Christ the-frea, in David's burg.

12. And that (be) to-you token: get-ye the-bairn bi-wound, yea laid in an ooteatin (thing).

13. And suddenly worth mid the angel a many of the her-ship of Himmel (kind)-begotten, herying God and quothing, -

14. Glory in-the-highest to-God, and on earth peace in men of good will.

15. And worth, be-the (=while) thai angels led far-from them into Himmel, and thae men thai herds quoth to themselves: let-us-throoch-gang now unto Bethlehem, yea let-us-see that word that worth (=happened) that the frea has-kenned to-us.

16. And cam they hastening, and begot (=found) Mary and Joseph and that bair lying in the oot-eatin (thing).

17. Seeing then they-kenned be (=about) that word that was read (=spoken) to 'em be that bairn,

18. Andall they hearing seld-likened (=marvelled) be thae (things) read from (by) the herds to 'em.

19. But Mary fastened all thae words, thinking in her heart.

20. And wended themselves thae herds muckeling, yea heezing God in all these-that they have heard, yea seen, so as (it) was read to 'em.

Notes to the Gothic of Luke II. 4-20.

4. Garda, in the sense of the ancestral home of the family, somewhat equivalent to the later territorial surname, often spoken of as that ill.

5. Ana-meljan—weak verb from mel, time (cf. Ger. ein-mal, once), A.S. mael-also writings: wis-andein, part. of wisan, to be, from which Eng. was, Sc. wurr, wuz, wiz-na, by common interchange of s and r.

6. Jainar, from jains=that (Ger. jener, yon), meaning there—other forms are jaind (“yond Cassius”—“Jul. Cæs.”), and jaindre=yonder.

8. Witandans, pres. part. of witan, to watch, observe (cf. eye-wit-ness). The two verbs witan, to know, and weitan, to see, are substantially identical, cf. οίδα and Lat. videre.

9. Ohtedun agisa, pret. pl. of ogan, from agan, to fear, and agis, awe. Such a form as Lat. ang-uis, a snake, shows that the material figure in ​agan and agis is that of throttling or the choking sensation of awe or dread.

11. Nasjands, pr. part. of nisan, to save, A.S. ge-nesan, Ger. ge-nesen.

13. Hazjandane, pr. part. of hazjan, to praise, A.S. herian, O.E. hery.

14. Wulthus, glory, has many derivatives: A.S. wuldor.

17. Bi, prep. by, Ger. bei, occurs in many senses, some of which have been better preserved in Sc. than in Eng. Rodith, from rodjan, our read, but always in sense of speaking, as in Ger. reden and Redner.

Luke's Gospel in Nisbet's Scots.

Chapter II., Verses 4-20.

4. And Joseph went vp fra Galilee, fra the citee of Nazareth, into Judee, into a citee of Dauid, that is callit Bethleem, fore that he was of the hous and of the meynye of Dauid. 5. That he suld knawleche with Marie his wif, that was weddit to him and was gret with child. 6. And it was done, quhile thai ware thar, the dais ware fulfillit that scho suld beire childe. 7. And scho baire hire first born sonn, and wrappit him in clathis, and laid him in a cribbe; for thare was na place to him in na chalmere. 8. And schepirdis war in the sammin cuntre wakand and kepand the wacheingis of the nycht on thare flock. 9. And, lo, the angel of the Lorde stude beside thame, and the cleirnes of God schynit about thame; and thai dredd with gret dreed. 10. And the angell said to thame, Will ye nocht dreed; for, lo, I preche to you a gret ioy, that salbe to al the pepile. 11. For a saluatour is born this day to you, that is Crist the Lord, in the citee of Dauid. 12. And this is a takin to you: Ye sal find a young child wlappit in clathis, and laid in a cribbe. 13. And suddanlie thare was made with the angel a multitude of heuenlie knichthede loving God, and sayand, 14. Glorie be in the hieast thingis to God, and in erd pece, to men off gude will. 15. Ande it was done, as the angellis passit away fra thame into heuen, the schephirdis spak togiddire and said, Go we ouir to Bethleem, and se we this word that is made, quhilk the Lord has made and schawin to vs. 16. And thai hyand com, and fand Marie and Joseph, and the young child laid in a cribbe. 17. And thai seand, knew of the word that was said to ​ thame of the child. 18. And almen wonndrit that herd; and of thir thingis that war said to thame of the schephirdis. 19. Bot Marie kepit al thir wordis, beirand to giddire in hir hart. 20. And the schephirdis turnit agane, glorifiand and lovand God in al thingis that thai had herd and seen, as it was said to thame.

Notes to the Scots Version, Luke II. 4-20.

4. Meynye, a crowd, Go. managei, Ger. Menge, 0.Eng. menye, as “Robin Hood his merry menye."

7. Claithis, pl. of claith with th hard ; generally claise : verb cled=clothe, past cleddit.

8. Wakand, pres. part. of wauk—“The Waukin o' the Fauld "—to be awake, on the wake or watch.

12. Takin, a sign, Go. taikns, a miracle, in which sense Luther's Version lises its High German equivalent, Zeichen. Young, Go, juggs, Ger. jung, young. Wlappit, wrapped, folded, from a root, waljan, to roll, cf. welter, waltz, wallow, wallop (the lapwing in dialect), lapper, a folder in cloth-finishing.

13. Loving, praising; louing, praise, Fr. allouer, Lat. laudare.

16. Hyand, hastening, Eng. hie, Sc. hech (cf. Lat. singultire, to fetch a deep breatb).

Luke's Gospel.

Chapter XV., Verses 11-32.

11. Kwathuth-than: manne sums aihta twans gunung.

12. Jah kwth sa juhiza ize du attin: atta, gif mis, sei und-rinnai mik dail aiginis; jah disdailida im swes sein.

13. Jah afar ni managans dagans brahta samana allata sa juhiza sunus, jah aflaith in land fairra wisando jah jainar dista-hida thata swes seinata libands usstiuriba.

14. Bithe than frawas allamma, warth huhrus abrs and gawi jainata, jah is dugann alatharba wairthan.

15. Jah gaggands gahaftida sik sumamma baurgjane jainis gaujis, jah insandida ina haithjos seinaizos haldan sweina.

16. Jah gairnida sad itan haurne, thoei matidedun sweina, jah manna imma ni gaf.

17. Kwimands than in sis kwath: hvan filu asnje attins meinis ufarassau haband hlaibe, ith ik huhrau frakwistna.

18. Usstandands gagga du attin meinamma jah kwitha du ​ imma : atta, frawaurhta mis in himin jah in andwairthja thein- amma;

19. Ju thanaseiths ni im wairths ei haitaidau sunus theins ; gatawei mik swe ainana asnje theinaize.

20. Jah usstandands kwam at attin seinamma. Nauh- thanuh than fairra wisandan gasahw ina atta is jah infeinoda jah thragjands draus ana hals is jah kukida imma.

21. Jah kwath imma sa sunus : atta, frawaurhta in himin jah in andwairthja theinamma, ju thanaseiths ni im wairths ei haitaidau sunus theins.

22. Kwath than sa atta du skalkam seinaim: sprauto bringith wastja tho frumiston jah gawasjith ina jah gibith fig- gragulth in handu is jah gaskohi ana fotuns is ;

23. jah bringandans stiur thana alidan ufsneithith, jah mat- jandans wisam waila ;

24. unte sa sunus meins dauths was jah gakwiunoda, jah fralusans was jah bigitans warth ; jah dugunnun wisan.

25. Wasuth-than sunus is sa althiza ana akra jah kwimands atiddja nehw razn jah gahausida saggvins jah laikins.

26. Jah athaitands sumana magiwe frahuh hwa wesi thata.

27. Tharuh is kwath du imma thatei brothar theins kwam, jah afsnaith atta theins stiur thana alidan, unte hailana ina andnam.

28. Thanuh modags warth jah ni wilda in gaggan, ith atta is usgaggands ut bad ina.

29. Tharuh is andhafjands kwath du attin: sai, swa filu jere skalkinoda thus jah ni hvanhun anabusn theina ufariddja, jah mis ni aiw atgaft gaitein, ei mith frijondam meinaim biwesjau ;

30. ith than sa sunus theins, saei fret thein swes mith kalkjom, kwam, ufsnaist imma stiur thana alidan.

31. Tharuh kwath du imma : barnilo, thu sinteino mith mis wast jah is, jah all thata mein thein ist ;

32. Waila wisan jah faginon skuld was, unte brothar theins

dauths was jah gakwiunoda, jah fralusans jah bigitans warth. ​

Transliteration of Luke XV. 11-32 in the Gothic Version.

  • 11. Quoth-he than: some (=a certain one) of men aucht twain sons.
  • 12. And quoth he the younger of them to father: father, give me the-deal (share) of ownings that on-rins to-me; and he-dealt to hem his substance.
  • 13. And after nae many days brocht all together (Ger. zu-sammen) he the younger son, and aff-led (=departed) into a land (that) was faur, and yon(d)er distugged (=scattered) that substance of-his, living riotously.
  • 14. Be-the than (=since then) he-frae-was of-all, worth a great hunger on the-country (Ger. Gau) yon, and he began to worth in-want-of-all (Ger. be-dürfen=ala-tharba).
  • 15. And gangin he hefted himself to some of-the-burghers of-yon-gau, and sent-he him to-his heath to-hold swine.
  • 16. And yearned he to-eat of-the horns (=husks), that meatit the swine, and nae man gave 'im.
  • 17. Coming than into himself quoth-he: hoo fell of-the-hired-servants of mine father have of loaves abundance, but I of-hunger perish.
  • 18. Out-standing gang-I to mine father, and quoth to him: father, fro-wrooht-have-I (been) to-myself in (=against) Himmel, and in (=against) thine presence.
  • 19. Now thone-sith (further) worthy am I not that I be-hight, thine son; do to me so ane of thine thralls.
  • 20. And out-standing cam-he at his father. Nevertheless than (=But) being faur-off saw 'em he-the-father, yea rejoiced, yea thranging (=thronging, running, Ger. dringen), fell on his hause (Ger. Hals), yea kissed him.
  • 21. And quoth-to him he-the-son: father, I have-fro-wrocht against Himmel and in thine sight, now am-I nae longer worthy that I-be-hight thine son.
  • 22. Quoth then the father to his servants: quickly bring the foremost vest-ment and vest him and give a-finger-gold in his hand, and a pair-shoes on his feet.
  • 23. And bringing thone fatted steer up-sned (it), and meating let-us-be weel;
  • 24. For he mine son was dead, and is quickened, yea fer-lost was and bi-gotten (found) worth; and began-they to be (merry).
  • 25. Was then his son the elder on acre (=a-field), and coming at-gaed nigh house, and heard sang, and larkin.
  • 26. And, at-highting (calling) some-ane of-the-lads, frained (asked) what that was.
  • 27. Thereupon quoth he to him that brother thine cam, yea af-sned thine father thone fatted steer, (because) he an-nim him hale.
  • 28. Then-indeed moody he-worth, and would-na gang in, but his father gangin-oot bade (entreated) him.
  • 29. There-on he answering (=Ger. an-heben) quoth to the father: see, so fell of-years have-I-served thee, yea nae-ony-wheen command thine over-gaed-I, yea to-me never (ni aiw=nae-eve(r)) hast-thou-given a goat-ling, that mid mine friends I-might be merry. ​
  • 30. But than he, thine son, he'at fret thine substance mid harlots, cam, up-snedst-thou for him, thone fatted steer.
  • 31. There-on quoth-he to him: bairnie, thou daily mid me wast, yea is, yea all that mine is thine;
  • 32. Well was it incumbent (=should) to-make merry, and to-feign (=rejoice) for thine brother dead was, and has-revived, and worth fer-lost (Ger. verloren), and be-gotten (got again)

Notes to Luke XV. 11-32, Gothic Version.

  • 13. Us-stiur-iba, riotously, with adv. affix -iba. The stem seems to be in M.Eng. stiren, sturen, to stir, Icel. styrr, a disturbance. O.H.G. storen, to scatter, Lat. sternere, Eng. storm, steer: steer, an ox, lit. the strong (one).
  • 14. Fra-was, from wisan, to be. The prefix fra-, far-, is best seen in Eng. for-gather, forget, Sc. fer-fochen and Ger. ver-loren.
  • 15. Ga-haftida, haftjan, to cleave to, Ger. heften, common in Sc., as "Throw the heft after the hatchet," or "Let the tow (rope) gang wi' the bucket." Sheep are said to be heftit (acclimatised) to a pasture.
  • 16. Gairnida, from gairnjan, yearn, grin, Sc. girn.
  • 17. Filu, much, many, Sc. fell, Ger. viel.
  • 19. Ju, now, already, Ger. je, A.S. geo.
  • 20. Hals, identical with German for neck, and common in old Scots.
  • 23. Alids, fatted, from al-jan, akin to alere, to nourish.
  • 25. At-iddja, past of gaggan, to go, and in Sc. gaed, M.Eng. yode.
  • Laikins, from laikan, to leap for joy, O.E. laik, cf. larking.
  • 26. Frahuh, pret. of fraihnan, to ask, Sc. frain, Ger. fragen.
  • 28. Bad, pret. of bidjan, to pray—hence bead, bedesman—obsolete in Eng. Go. distinguishes between this and baidjan, to order, bid.
  • 29. And-hafjands, pres. part, of hafjan, Eng. heave, Ger. heben.
  • Skalkinoda, pret. of skalkinon, to serve as a skalks, Du. schalk, mare-schal=master of the horse.
  • Frijondam, dat. pl. of frijonds=friend, Sc. freen, from frijon, to love; opp. fijan, to hate, fijands, an enemy, fiend, Sc. feint.
  • 30. Fret, pret. of fra-itan, to eat up, fret, Ger. fressen.
  • 31. Barnilo, dim. and familiar of barn, a bairn, from bairan, to bear, bring forth. In the Heliand, Christ is "God's bairn."
  • Sinteino, from sinth, a journey, hence a time, sinthan, to go, wander, A.S. sithian: cf. since, Sc. syne in Auld Lang Syne.

Luke's Gospel—Scots Version.

Chapter XV., Verses 11-32.

11. And he saide, A man had ij sonnis: 12. And the yonngare of thame said to the fader, Fader geue me the portionn ​ of substance that fallis to me. And he departit to thame the substance. 13. And nocht mony dais eftire, quhen al thingis war gaderit togiddire, the yonngar sonn went furth in pilgrimage into a ferr cuntree, and thare he wastit his gudis in leving licherouslie. 14. And eftir that he had endit al thingis, a stark hungire was made in that cuntree; and he began to haue need. 15. And he went and drew him to aan of the citezenis of that cuntree; and he send him into his town to fede swyne. 16. And he couatit to fill his wambe of the coddis that the hoggis ete: and na man gave to him. 17. And he turnit agane into himself, and said, How mony hyretmen in my fadris hous has plentee of laaues, and I peryse here throu hungir. 18. I sal ryse up and ga to my fadere, and I sal say to him, Fader, I haue synnyt into heuen and before thee, 19. And now I am nocht worthie to be callit thi sonn: mak me as aan of thi hyret 20. And he rase up, and com to his fader. And quhen he was yit on fer (afar), his fadere saw him, and was mouet be mercy, and he ran, and fell on his neck, and kissit him. 21. And the sonn said to him, Fader, I haue synnyt into heuen, and before thee, and now I am nocht worthie to be callit thi 22. And the fadere said to his seruandis, Suythe bring ye furthe the first stole, and cleithe ye him; and geue ye a ryng in his hand, and schoon on his feet; 23. And bring ye a fat calf, and sla ye; and ete we, and mak we feest: 24. For this my sonn was deid, and has leeuet agane; he peryset, and is fundin. And almen began to ete. 25. Bot his eldar sonn was in the feeld; and quhen he com and nerit to the hous, he herde a symphony and a croude. 26. And he callit aan of the seruandis, and askit quhat thir thingis war. 27. And he said to him, Thy bruther is cummin; and thi fadere has slayn a fat calf, for he resauet him saaf. 28. And he was wrathe, and wald nocht cum in. Tharfor his fadere yede furthe, and began to pray him. 29. And he ansuered to his fadere, and said, Lo, sa mony yeris I serue thee, and I brak neuir thi comandment; and thou neuir gaue to me a kidde, that I with my freendis suld haue eten. 30. Bot eftir that this thi sonn, that has destroyit his substance with huris com, thou has slayn to him a fat calf. 31. And he said to him, Sonn, thou art euirmaire with me, and al my thingis are thin. 32. Bot it behuvit to mak feest and to ​haue ioy: for this thi bruther was deid, and leevit agane; he periset, and was fundin.

Notes to the Scots Version, Luke XV. 11-32.

16. Couatit, desired, longed for, coveted.
Wambe, belly, usual Sc. wime, rhyming with "time," Lat. umbo, the boss of a shield.
Coddis, husks. "Grain which has been too ripe before being cut, in the course of handling is said to cod out" (Jamieson). A pillow-cod or cod-ware is a pillow-slip.
22. Suythe, quickly, A.S. swith=strong, same as Go. swinths.
25. Croude, Purvey, "á symfonye and a croude." The instrument was a fiddle.

  1. ↑ The accompanying facsimile is taken from Dr. Bosworth's edition of the "Gothic, Anglo-Saxon, Wycliffe, and Tyndale's Gospels." In Roman type it reads thus:—Unte jabai afletith mannam missadedins ize, afletith jah izvis atta izvar sa ufar himinam. Ith jabai ni afletith mannam missadedins ize, ni thau atta izvar afletith missadedins izvaros. Aththan bithe fastaith, ni vair [thaith]. The Authorised Version (Matt. vi. 14-45) will furnish the reader with a translation.
    Professor Skeat ("St. Mark in Gothic") says: "The student who has already some knowledge of Middle English and Anglo-Saxon will not experience much difficulty in gaining, in a short time, some elementary and very useful knowledge of Gothic." If he can supplement this or substitute for it a knowledge of Lowland Scots, both profit and progress will be vastly enhanced. I warmly endorse what he adds: "A knowledge of Gothic ought to be as common among Englishmen"—and all Scotsmen—the present attempt to smooth the way for those who wish to understand more about the formation of the Teutonic part of our own language may meet with some success."
  2. ↑ Cædmon appeared in 1655. See Masson's Cambr. Milton I., 39.
  3. ↑ For a very full account of Wulfila, and especially of what Auxentius has recorded of him, see Max Müller's Lectures, Vol. I. ch. 5.
  4. ↑ To complete the parallel, it was Ælfric who sketched for us how he wrote down the closing verses of St. John's Gospel to the dictation of his master as the light of his life was sinking into eternal night.
  5. ↑ See diagram facing this page
  6. ↑ Preserved still better in the pronunciation of "earth" in Lowland Scots.
  7. ↑ Greek translated the Arabic kermes by κόκκος, hence our cochineal, the Romans by vermis, hence vermilion.
  8. ↑ The accompanying diagram shows the gaps in the MS. referred to. The passages awanting are shown in black.
  9. ↑ Cf. Sans. Anna, lit. what is eaten for ad-na (root ad), food in general, rice.
  10. ↑ Where Go. is identical with Eng. or Sc. it follows the reference within brackets.
  11. ↑ H in hlaiba is the prefix ha-, see p. 17.
  12. ↑ Arn is an adjectival affix as in silvern, and in iron. The German Eisen does not show this affix.
  13. ↑ Thay is not the article but a true demonstrative.
  14. ↑ In a scientific age such as ours one need hardly note the connection between germs and fermentation.
  15. ↑ Cf. A gizzend tub; also Allan Ramsay, imitations of Horace's "Siccas carinas," boats leaking from having been long beached; also Icel. Geyser.
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Studies in Lowland Scots (1909)
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In Decadence
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3395076Studies in Lowland Scots — In Decadence1909James Colville
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II.—IN DECADENCE

1. The Decadence of the Scottish Vernacular

Henry Cockburn, writing more than sixty years ago, regretfully contrasts his own sustained interest in Burns and growing love for the frequent reading of him with the pronounced lack of interest which his children evinced. For them the language of Burns had little meaning, and this blocked the way to appreciation. The huge development of a Burns cult since those days would seem to imply the removal of this obstacle to intimacy. Facts, however, do not bear out this inference. While no "common Burnsite" would pass uncondemned such a misquotation of a well-known couplet as that with which a recent writer favoured his readers in a magazine, to wit,—

"Oh wad the laird the giftie gie us,
To see oursels as ithers see us!"

it would not be difficult to puzzle him as to the meaning, inner or otherwise, of half a dozen lines selected almost at random from the non-lyrical and strictly vernacular poems.

Nor is the remarkable vogue of the Scots story inconsistent with the real decadence of the vernacular. The interest here would have been much the same apart from the local colour of the language. To take the "Window in Thrums" as representative of the high-water mark of the Scots story, its consummate art is essentially the revelation in fiction of the spirit of the Lyrical Ballads, a Wordsworthian interest, that is, in the inherent beauty and pathos of common things and people, the interplay of human strength and weakness under simply human conditions. The situation is vernacular, whereas the language is not. Its imitators strain after its vernacular colour-effects by a liberal dash of dialect words, but their success is factitious. The reader can quite afford to skip the ​dialect and follow the plot all the better. The French of the menu card has little effect on the digestion of the dishes. Take, by way of emphasising this point, Dr. William Alexander's "Johnny Gibb o' Gushetneuk," a story which, though very precious to the few who are in sympathy to appreciate it, is yet caviare to the general who dote on Thrums and all its kin. Here the charm of rusticity is perfect. The characters are as strong, original, and lifelike as any in the whole gallery of the "Kailyard." The "waesome element o' greetin' and deein'" is indeed absent, but the humorous aspects of Scotch thrift and pawkiness and all the lights and shades of minor morality in a country-side are there, and worked out on the lines of Galt and Ferrier and Mrs. Hamilton (the creator of Mrs. Maclarty). But the author handicapped himself by his devotion to the vernacular setting of his tale. He could not do otherwise, this attitude being part and parcel of his thinking. Pope doubtless knew as well as Shakspere what constituted a poet, but nature had built him for reasoning in verse, so he was didactic and ratiocinative at the risk of being refused some day the very name of poet. Similarly we have the real Burns in the vernacular poems. Wordsworth was right in his appreciation of these, while Tennyson followed the multitude in preferring the songs in which Burns devoted his lyrical gifts to the gathering up of the fragments of a fading vernacular and dressing them out in the sentimental fashion of the eighteenth century. This preference is the more surprising when we remember that Tennyson himself has raised his own dialect work to the dignity of a classic. Nowhere else has he struck a deeper or truer dramatic note. The truth is that literature cannot afford to overlook such vernacular as we have in Scotland; witness the great number of Northern words now used as English. But the best evidence of the value of this interdependence comes from Burns, Scott and Carlyle, who nursed their art on this humble soil, and thereby secured a position among the most vivid, human, and truly realistic masters of English. If the Scottish vernacular should pass from decadence to decay, the people will not only lose the education of their bi-lingual inheritance, but English itself will suffer. For, while the effect of education on the literary speech is to develop expression by the strict rules of conventional ​imitation, the vernacular lends itself naturally to local environment in choice of words, significant content, idioms, tone and accent—everything, in short, which gives to style its colour and individuality. Scotland, from the more archaic character of its development, and from the fact that the whole nation early found its native speech shouldered out of general literature, presents a specially rich field for the study of dialectic growth.

While education and intercourse are between them killing out the vernacular, and writers for striking effects have to resort to Yankee or coster slang, or even sheer Kiplingesque audacity in diction, decadence can never apply to the classic Scottish speech. As long as we have Barbour, Blind Harry, Henryson, Douglas, Dunbar, Lindsay, their diction can be studied like that of Chaucer, Langland and Spenser. But, alongside of this, there has always existed a vernacular with a character and contents of its own. It lives quite independently of literary production, but pines away before the breath of education and its fashions. It was as well that Ramsay, Burns, and Fergusson were but little versed in classical Scots, for they could no more have kept it alive than could Elizabethans the archaisms of Chaucer and Spenser. What they did was to have the courage to admit so much of the vernacular into literary diction, and this is now the true strength of their style. But it is with Barbour, Wynton, and the Burgh Laws with which the vernacular is most in touch. From these one might cull many expressions that are only now ceasing to be "household words." Thus Barbour describes the good Earl James of Douglas as "a black-a-vised man that wlispyt sum daill, but that set him richt weill." In "Peebles to the Play," when the cadger has tumbled in the mire off his horse,—

"His wife came out and gave a shout,
And by the foot she gat him;
All be-dirtin drew him out;
Lord (how), right weil that sat him."

Henry Morley ("Shorter English Poems") glosses this as "vexed him," in defiance of the context. After the disaster of Methven, when Bruce and he were "dreand in the Month (Mount, i. e. the Grampians) thair pyne;" and "gret defaut of mete had thai," ​Douglas "wrocht gynnys" (the girns or nooses of the rabbitcatcher) "to tak geddis (pike) and salmonys, trowtis, elys, and als menownys." Here we have the familiar mennons (minnows) of the schoolboy. When Barbour tells how Bunnock, the husband-man, carried out his clever plan for capturing Lithgow Peel from the English while ostensibly leading his wain full of hay for the garrison, the whole scene is a lifelike presentment to a Lowland farmer who has kept to his vernacular. "Aucht men, in the body of the wain," should "with hay helyt be about," where helyt recalls the hool or covering of a bean and the hulls or clothes of Sartor Resartus. In Burns's "Hallowe'en," when the vision of "an out-lier quey" came between the widow Leezie and the moon, her heart "maist lap the hool" (she nearly "jumped out of her skin"). Compare the Orcadian—"My heart is oot o' hule." Then when Bunnock's wain was "set evenly betuix the chekis of the yett sae that men mycht spar (close and fasten) it na gat" (way), he "then hewyt in twa the soyme" or traces. Gregor's "Banffshire Glossary" shows this soyme still in use. "Fin thir wuz a crom (kink) in the sowm the gaadman geed (went) and raid (disentangled) it." In Caithness, late in last century, tenants had to furnish simmons, or ropes of heath for thatching purposes, to the laird. Skinner very aptly uses the word in his Epistle to a Ship Captain turned Farmer,—

"Your hawsers and your fleeand sheets,
Ye've turned them into sowms and theats" (trace-lines)."

In simmons the definite article has been added to the Norse sime, ropes of straw or bent. The oat straw used for making them was called "gloy." They were twisted with a "thrawcruck." There are innumerable touches of this kind in Barbour which stir up associations with vernacular—"ane Englishman that lay bekand him be a fyr," where the preposition, German bei, is used in its favourite sense, or "mycht na man se a wäer man" than Edward Bruce, where the epithet would be poorly rendered by sadder, or this greeting between Bruce and his men,—

"He welcummyt thaim with gladsum fair,
Spekand gud wordis her and thar,
And thai thair lord sa meekly
Saw welcum thaim sa hamly,
Joyful thai war."

​We find also in Barbour the specially Northern use of the relative that in the form 'at,—

"James of Douglas his menye than
Sesit Weill hastily in hand
'At (those whom) thai about the castell fand."

This idiom is found throughout the literature which best preserves the vernacular—Privy Council Registers and the Records of Burghs, Kirk-Sessions and Guilds, and is still in general use. Burns and Ramsay avoid it as beneath the dignity of literature, but there is a good specimen in the "Window in Thrums," "Him at's marrit on the lad Wilkie's sister." Dr. Murray, who quotes a typical example, "the dug at its leg wuz rin owre," ascribes this form of that to Celtic influence, but in spite of the teaching of the Celtic Revival the Gael has made scarcely any impression here or elsewhere on the language of the Lowland Scot. The Sassenach has taken kindly to vulgar Gaelic words like creesh (fat, grease) or bodach, a silly person, a buddie (body), which he loves to characterise as windy (boastful), birssy (irascible), fikey (finicky), or nochty (insignificant). A Gaelic word for relationship, oy from ogha, a grandchild, was in use last century. In the year 1717 the Burgh Records of Dysart note an heir to property as "oy to John Ramsay, carpenter," and Burns has ier-oe, a great-grandchild. "Wee curlie John's ier-oe" (Dedication to Gavin Hamilton), shows one of the very few Gaelic words in Burns. In the case in point it supplied him with a handy rhyme. The Orcadian has jeroy, a great-grandchild. Oy has met with the fate of eyme, an uncle, common in Barbour and the ballad-writers, and still general in German as oheim. The notorious President Kruger was known familiarly as Oom Paul. To him his bête noire, Mr. Rhodes, is a schelm. This is the same word as the very Gaelic-looking skellum, applied by that waefu' woman Kate to her husband, Tam o' Shanter. It is in Gaelic as one of many borrowed Teutonic words. Another word of extreme interest, scallog or sgalag, a husbandman, has come into Gaelic from the Norse, and during last century was the name in the Outer Hebrides for the poor tenants—virtually the serfs of the tacksmen. It has never been in vernacular Scots, though as schalk ​it is found in the mediæval romances. In the Gothic Gospels the centurion gives, as an instance of his authority, "To my servant (du skalka meinamma) I say, 'Do this,' and he doeth it." Though thus an old Teutonic word, we find it in strange places. St. Serf taught his scolocs at Gulross in 517, and Dean Hole, in his " Memories," notes shack as in the dialect of Newark applicable to one who "can and will do anything but regular work." Pratt, in his "Buchan," mentions a charter of 1265 in which the Archbishop of St. Andrews granted to the Earl of Buchan certain lands that "the Scoloci hold," evidently the church nativi, neyfs or serfs. Joseph Robertson and Skene say they are the scholastici or pupils on the monastic lands, but Skeat connects it with skalk (servant) in mare-schal. The German element is conspicuous everywhere in Lowland Scots, even where one might have looked for Gaelic. Till the potato famine brought over the Irishman, Highland reapers and drovers were regular summer visitants in the south. Yet such a common expression as kempin, in which one shearer struggled to outstrip another, is pure German (kämpfen, to wrestle). In that interesting last century poem, The Hairst Rig, where there is a graphic description of a kempin tussle, the Gael and his speech are treated as something quite fremit (Ger. fremd) or foreign. One genuine Gaelic word, however, is only too well known on every farm in Fife, skellocks, Eng. charlock or wild mustard. This obtrusive and vigorous weed is the Gaelic sgeallag. Macbain ("Gael. Dict.") finds its root as sqel, separate, Eng. shell, which last Skeat prefers to connect with scale. Its place on the Highland crofts as an ubiquitous weed is taken by the gool or wild chrysanthemum, so named from its yellow flower,—

"The gool, the Gordons, and the hoodie craw
Were the three warst faes 'at Moray e'er saw."

With the decadence of the vernacular has gone a great number of words that were bound up with the social life of the past. The position of the long-forgotten birley-man was of great antiquity and importance. He was the elective Schulze or magistrate of the primitive village commune and an authority on boor-law that was referred to in all disputes. Till near the end of last century he was the recognised valuator or appraiser ​in every dispute involved in the payment of rent in kind. When, again, Burns holds up his waukit loof to witness the sincerity of his appeal, he is making probably the last allusion in literature to the ancient industry of the dressing of homemade woollen cloth. Dialect here asserts itself, and a familiar survival in one county may be unknown in another. Thus the terms for the homestead are curiously localised. In such Norse districts as Caithness and Islay the names of farms often end in -ster and -bus, while over the West Highlands generally the favourite term is gortchin, the Anglo-Saxon garth or garden, and the gart of Mid-Scotland. In Fife and the Lothians the ferrm-toon marks the homestead, the cot-toon the row of labourers' cottages near by. A sheep-pen again is a buicht on the Border, a fank in the west, a pumfle (corruption of pen-fold) in the north-east. Fife and the Lothians, never much given over to sheep-farming, know little of these terms. A yard for cattle, however, is there called a reed, itself an odd survival of the Pictish rath, a fortified enclosure. It is still heard in many place-names. To Jamieson it is known only as a sheep-ree, and marked "West Fife." But as Fife is not a sheep-rearing county, this does not say very much. On a specification for alterations on a farm in the Lothians not very long ago, measurements were given for a reed. First the factor and then the laird wrote inquiring what was meant by this obscure term. This incident says much for the decreasing interest in Scottish dialects. Burns seems to have known a word still surviving in Galloway, awal, for a sheep tumbled over on its back, or the moon on the wane, if the second version of "Meg o' the Mill," be his, but Dr. William Wallace pronounces it too poor a thing to have been written by him. It is a Romance word of much dignity (French avaler, to descend, gulp down; Lat. ad vallem). Spenser uses it of the falling Nile—"When his later spring 'gins to avale."

The farm labourer (Anglo-Saxon hyne) has distinctive dialect names. On the Border he is known as a hind, in Aberdeenshire a gudge, itself a word occurring in the "Gothic Gospels" of the fourth century:—"Jah bedun ina allai gaujans thize Gaddarene galeithan fairra sis"—and all the peasants of the Gadarenes begged him to depart from them (Luc. viii. 37). ​In Mid-Scotland he is only "a man," but his help is a hafflin, an extra hand is an orra man, while the hagg is charged with the feeding of the nowte or rather cattle-beast. Harness and farm implements have much the same names all over the country, but some exist only because of conditions special to a district. Thus in the hay-making regions of Lanark and Ayr a slyp or sledge is well known. Burns graphically visualises the action of the verb when he tells how the auld mare Maggie in her best days "spread abreed her well-filled brisket" at a stiff bit of ploughing, "Till spritty knowes wad rairt an' risket, an' slypet owre." The word and the implement came from Holland originally. In Gaelic slipe appears as sliob, a stroke, a rub, a lick; Ir. sliohhaim, to polish; Norse slipa, to whet; Du. slijpen, to polish, sharpen; A.S. slipan, to glide. In Ayrshire the word is used for whetting a scythe or for a whetstone. Gaelic helps also with the graphic risket of Burns in its reesk, coarse grass, marshy land, morass with sedge; Ir. riasg, a moor, fen; Eng. rush. Sprits are rushes growing where the water spurts or oozes out.

In house affairs there are seen similar dialectic differences. The "bain" or bucket of the west is unknown in the east, where it is a cog or kimmin. The bairn of Fife is the wean of Lanark, the gett of Aberdeenshire. This latter term in Morayshire was always applied to an illegitimate. Even words that seem ridiculously easy to a Fifer are but little known in the west, such as dubs and puggies, a poalie finger and a ploatet pig. Perhaps not quite so much familiarity can be claimed for another Fife word, a willie-miln, a latch or door fastening worked by a string. Its origin is obscure. As it has lingered longest about the Dysart and Kirkcaldy district, it may preserve the name of some skillie smith body about Pathhead, otherwise unknown to fame. It is not a little humiliating to think that these and suchlike decadent expressions, so hamely to many of us, and so rich in the kindliest of associations, will speedily go the way of worn-out coin.

No better test of the survival of a vernacular is to be found than the general intelligibility of proverbial sayings. Where a community cherish these, apply them aptly, and even coin new ones on the old lines, there is dialectic growth. They ​retain the family features of a racial speech. They embody the inspiration of generations of nameless stylists, and form a record of social changes that is unique. The "wise saws" of the Scots—graphic, direct, homely—are instinct with the proverbial experience of a people of simple wants and limited outlook, but endowed with no common gifts of thought and expression. If daily converse must be coterie in kind and imitative, better the continual wedding of wise saws to modern instances than the shallow and tiresome iteration of such coster slang as bloomin', bally, and beastly, of slope, and oof, and chump. Proverbs photograph the life experience of an age. "It's nae lauchin wark to girn in a widdy" recalls the wild times of the Gallows Hill and Jeddart justice, when the poor wretch hung for days from a noose of heather or tough twigs (withes). How different the social attitude of these equivalents: "As weel be hanged for a sheep as a lamb," and "In for a penny, in for a pound!" The universal use of timber on the homestead at a time when iron had to be imported, and that in very modest quantities, gave point to the worldly wisdom that appreciated character in these saws,—

"Thraw (twist) the widdy (sapling) when it's green,
'Tween three and thirteen;"

"It's a ticht caber (beam) 'at has neither knap (Ger. Knopf, knot, button) nae gaw (crack, flaw) in't;" "Him 'at hews aboon's head may get a speal (splinter) in's e'e," or "Whatever way the saw gangs the dust flees," which is another way of saying that the lawyer's mill is always sure to get grist. In the days when the winter's kitchen hung from the cross-beams instead of coming from the co-operative store the pig was a gentleman of importance whom everyone appreciated. He was familiarly addressed as "goosie! goosie!" A touch of Celticism appears in the name for his sty, a cruve (Gael. craobh, a tree) or "wattled cot," a term better known in connection with enclosures for securing salmon in tidal waters. The futility of half measures is emphasised in "Wha ploats his pig in loo water?" where loo is what the new generation calls tipt (tepid). English fails to render ploats, the soaking of the stuck pig in hot water to facilitate the scraping process. The tenderness of maternity is ​roughly hit off in "A yeld sow (not giving milk) is never good to the grices." "Dogs will redd (separate) swine" is just "Any stick is good enough to beat a dog with." "Ilka body creeshes (greases) the fat soo's tail" roughly describes the worship of wealth, expressed by "To him that hath shall be given," or "Men worship the rising sun." The sheep was a kindly pet, and so was quoted on occasion. "Ae scabbet sheep will smit (taint) the hale hirdsell" tells the lesson of evil communications. We see what "the gift o' the gab" can do in "He's a chield can spin a muckle pirn oot o' a wee tait (tit-bit) o' woo'." Old Hawkie, "'yont the hallan," was one of the family to the thrifty goodwife. The virtue of tender handling is commended in "It's by the head 'at the coo gies milk," and of patience under trial in "Dinna fling awa' the cog when the coo flings (kicks)." The cog has come in again from the Gaelic as the quaich. From the milk-pail the milk was sied or strained (sieve) into the bowie or kimmin, thence to be reamed (Ger. rahmen) for the cream. Around the yard went the homely chuckle when couthie caution was commended in "Fleyin' (frightening) a hen's no the way to grip it." The ingle-lowe gathered round it the household, and baudrons or cheetie-pussy courted the warmth to her cost, when we were warned against trusting to appearances with, "Like the singet cat, better nor she's likely (seemly)." There was a bog in every howe, the burn swept past the loan-end in roaring spate (flood), and the wayfarer risked a watery grave among the boulders, when these had a meaning: "Let the tow (rope) gang wi' the bucket," "There was water where the stirk (bullock) was drowned," "Let them roose (praise) the ford as they find it." The inexperience of youth is in "He hasna ridden the ford yet." When the Yankee tramp comes to the proverbial long lane he says, "Guess I've struck the prairie," but Tam o' Shanter might have faced the weary Scots miles with the consoling reflection, "It's a bare moor but one will find a cowe (bush) in it." The "cowe," familiar to the curler, was properly the kale-runt or stalk of the curly green, for it is akin to Lat. caulis, Fr. chou, and cauliflower. Gustock is cowe-stock or cabbage-stalk. Close attention to business was commended in "The maister's fit maks the best fulzie (compost)." Through the dreary winter the starved beasts ​went roaming about in search of a bite, till, when nature resumed her green mantle, they were "at the liftin'," like a corpse before burial, so, instead of the Englishman's "While the grass grows the steed starves" we have the Scots, "The auld aiver (nag) may dee waitin' for new grass." When the bairns protested too much at sight of their humble fare the thrifty housewife answered with a "Na, na; corn's no for staigs" (colts).

These were the days of small things, when to be near or grippy was not unpardonable, yet large-heartedness breathes in "Him 'at has a good crap may weel thole a wheen thistles." He may well put up with the sornin' (sponging) of poor relations. Table-love, however, was appraised at its true value: "Mony aunts, mony eems (Ger. Oheim, uncle), mony kin, few friens." True neighbourliness comes out in "A borrowed len (loan) should aye gang lauchin' hame." There was no worship of the baby then, for "Dawtet bairns dow bear little." The unwise fondling in dawted (dote) is a poor preparation for real life. This obsolete dow (can put up with, effect) was much used by Burns and Fergusson. A favourite word with Burns is heard in "A tarrowin' (grumbling) bairn was never fat." Its Orcadian meaning is "to take the dorts (tirran, cross, ill-natured)," from the expression tarre, an incitement to dogs to fight (cf. Ger. hetzen, and Shakspere's Hey!). Kindly indulgence for youthful wild oats was not awanting: "Royet (riotous, dissipated) lads mak' sober men." The Scot's dramatic faculty is deemed as weak as his appreciation of humour; but was pawkiness (a better word than knowingness) ever more neatly put than in "He's no sae daft as he let's on" (gives out, a favourite idiom); "Wark for nocht maks folks dead sweer" (unwilling, Ger. schwer); "Better fleech (flatter) fools than fecht them;" and "There's a time to gley (look awry) and a time to look straucht." Nor could there be a sounder appreciation of the personal reference than "Ye mett (measure) my peas by your ain peck." "Men are no to be mett (measured) by inches," and "Guid gear is little-booket" (of small bulk) are two views of the same situation. "Marriage is a lottery" appears as "She's a wise wife 'at wat (divined) her ain weird" (fate). And while the endurance of the ills we have is ​commended in "Better rue sit than rue flit," or "Better twa skaiths (Ger. Schade, injury) than ae sorrow," we are to sturdily face consequences with "The warst may be tholed (endured) when it's kenned," or "Better finger aff as ay waggin'." The old-time peasant had much of that spirit of independence on which Burns harps so often. "My ain hose will be tied wi' my ain gairtans (garters)" is the fearless resolve of the man that "will to Cupar, so maun to Cupar," while "We can dicht oor corn in oor ain cannis," points to the custom of clearing out the chaff in the process of winnowing by throwing up the grain between the doors of the barn and letting it fall on the canvas spread out to receive it. "I'm mebbe poor but I'm no misleared" (badly brought up) is a croose claim to respect for native worth. Popular philosophy put the truth that the will dominates the understanding, as "Gar'd (forced) gress is ill to grow." The virtue of thrift is commended in "Hained mooter (multure) bauds the mill at ease and 'fends the miller," the analogue of "A penny hained (saved) is a penny gained." Scott finely expresses true independence in his favourite motto, "A hedge about his friends, a heckle (for dressing flax) to his foes." Contempt for the opposite attitude of spiritless acquiescence breathes in his "They liket mutton weel that licket whaur the yowe lay."

Some of these maxims are severely condemnatory. The retort of shallow insolence is but "a goose's gansell." The cotter's children in the "Twa Dogs" are " a' run-deils thegither"—runs, ründs (Ger. Rand) or clippings from the selvage of a very bad web. But there was generally playful exaggeration in this as well as in the commoner reproach, a "limb o' Sawtan." The boy, mischievous as a monkey, is said to be "as ill-sets a puggie," which last is, by the way, a very good test-word for the survival of dialect. Few of the rising generation, and many even of the risen, specially if brought up away from the east side of Scotland, can make a guess at puggie. I have had it explained as a kind of engine, and again as a fox. In Orcadian pieg is anything of diminutive growth, as a pieg o' kale, a very small cabbage. The Danish is paeg. Pioo, a small quantity, may be Forfarshire peeay. Pug in English is a monkey, as in the above proverb. In Scots anything small is a pug or a puggie ​(Gael, paeg, small), as a pug engine, a pug plane is a joiner's tool. A small Shetland horse is a gur-pug (garron, a nag, and pug). In primitive times this word must have been applied to the fairies, always described as the little folks, cf. Puck, pixie, the wee pechs. Henry Morley ("Shorter Poems," p. 234) has a very interesting note on Puck, written also, he says, as Pouke and Pug, the former of which is first found in "Piers Plowman," signifying the devil. '"Paecan," to deceive by false appearance, is early English. From a derivative, pickeln, to play the fool, Morley gets the usual name for a mischievous boy, a pickle.

Another pithy comparison, "as saut's pell," is well known in Fife. Jamieson notes it under pell as butter-milk very much soured, which makes little account of the saltness. I take it rather to be a survival of the times when tanning was a village industry and salted hides (pelts, Lat. pellis, skin) were common on every homestead. There is no obscurity about this: "The lift 'll fa' an' smore (smother) the laerricks"—one of many expressions for the impossible, what is most unlikely to happen, so characteristic of the canny Scot. There is surprisingly little in these proverbial expressions which might be called obsolete. They have the quality of a true style, they rarely miss the mark. Some archaisms, however, there are here. Farmers do not now call a horse an aiver, though Burns uses it, as in "A Dream," when he wishes to be sarcastically, nay daringly, familiar. A century ago it was in the north applied to a goat. It really means a property (Lat. habere and our average). The parallel word, cattle, equally abstract (Lat. capitale and chattel), has retained its special concrete bent, except in Scots, where one still speaks of a cattle-beast, plural, cattle-beas'. A few other terms in these proverbs, such as tarrow, roose, mett, eem, are now intelligible only to one fairly well read in old literature.

So far we have had illustrations of the dialectic development of a bi-lingual people, as the Scots historically are. Alongside of this distinctively northern use of English we have the pesistence of native usage in an unbroken chain. At the Union strenuous and successful efforts were made to preserve the individuality of Scots law. During the "Auld Alliance" French models had been preferred to English, and latterly ​Dutch, when Episcopacy and Independency together had driven Presbyterians into the arms of the Calvinists of Holland. Though legal nomenclature is necessarily technical, yet, as the Scots always loved a good-going plea, legal terms have become to a surprising extent household words. A pley (plea) is indeed the very commonest expression for a dispute in general, while the lawyer is, par excellence, "a man o' bizness." These words are in no special sense Scottish, being in every case English worn with a difference. At the head of a Court, or indeed anybody acting in a judicial capacity, is the preses; the pleader is an advocate. The provincial representative of a judge is a depute. To bring a complaint into Court is to delate, a sense not unknown to Shakspere; witness the phrase in "Hamlet," "More than the scope of these delated articles allow." The parties are complainers. The Crown prosecutor is the fiscal, a "god of power" in a Scottish burgh. The accused is the pannel and the indictment is the libel, a term so familiar that some worthy folks speak of having their luggage libelled. Evidence is adduced, and witnesses depone. A civil suit is a process, prepared by a writer, or depreciatorily a "writer buddy," who summonses witnesses. The judge condescends upon the facts, and issues an interlocutor or decision. In questions of real estate the guardian is a tutor, sureties to contracts are cautioners, and the deed must be implemented conform to its terms. The successful litigant is discharged from the conclusions of the summons. To become a bankrupt is to fail, a catastrophe, classed of old for its awfulness with insanity and suicide as a "stroke from God," or damnum fatale. The unhappy "dyvour" sat near the Mercat Cross on a stone bench and clad in a yellow robe. The word long survived its disuse in the legal sense as a weapon in a scolding-match. A declared bankrupt was notour, to be put to the horn if he failed to extinguish the debt, followed by the terrors of poinding and multiple-poinding. The proprietors in a parish are heritors. One who holds under a perpetual ground rent is a feuar, or in Lanarkshire a portioner. Real estate is mortgaged under a bond or disposition in security, the agent in the transaction is the doer or haver, and the decision of the Court upon it is a decreet. To transfer a property is to convey, and the buyer becomes infeft of his ​possession by sasine, a term also familiar to Shakspere from Horatio's statement, "All those his lands which he stood seised of." The general intelligibility of these terms goes far to prove that in old society law was not "a supperfluity" but a "necessar."

The Church was another peculiar institution, with terms in still more popular use. It was governed by an assembly, synod, presbytery and session. In a land of many sects one belonged to a body. In the hey-day of schism a stranger, present at a social gathering of one of these groups, approached a little girl and addressed her affably, but she pulled him up short with, "I dinna belang to the body." No Dissenter could join in the laird's comprehensive toast, "The Kirk, the auldest, the cheapest, and the best." In Moderate circles a Dissenter was classed in a common horror with a Radical, a Patriot, and a Quaker. Such was the attitude of that otherwise meek and worthy man, Dr. Haldane, of St. Andrews. He was reprimanding the beadle for ill-using his wife, but was completely disarmed by the sly rogue's apologia. "Weel, ye see, doctor, she'll no hud awa fae thae Dissenters," eliciting the reply, "Then if you must do it, John, let it be in moderation." Sacerdotalism, ritualism, and the sanctity of consecration found no favour with these sturdy democrats. The minister was but human. One old dame refused to give him his title after he had been made a D.D. When remonstrated with she retorted, "Weel I wat, there's nae doctors in Heevin." The elders were always ready to sound his doctrine or prove his conduct, and even the beadle had a mind of his own about the conduct of the sanctuary. A clergyman, unduly conscious of greatness, after a higher flight than usual, asked his man if he did not share this feeling. "Ou, aye, yer Psaums wuz no that bad."

Little respect was paid to either the kirk or the kirkyard. To uncover on entering the one, or to do anything but gossip or feed calves in the other, savoured of innovation or sacerdotalism. The centre of the tabernacle was the poopit, rising over the lettern, all that was left of the lectern and the old-time institution of the reader, whose place was taken by the precentor. This last functionary was much exercised over the wedding of the metres to tunes. On one occasion when an ​unusual Psalm was given out, he looked up at the preacher with the remark, "That's a gey kittle ain, ye maun just try that yersel, Maister Davidson." The only sacrament was Communion, served on what used to be literally tables, on the model of a banquet in a baronial hall. The long strip of white linen, the bread and the goblet or loving cup handed round, followed exactly the custom in the big house on company days. A solemn exercise was the fencing of the tables, for the good things of the faith were not for the Gentiles. Strong on minor morals must that minister have been who thus wound up the solemn exercise of fencing the tables at Communion—"Brethren, I debar from the sacred ordinance any man that pits twa fingers into his neebor's mull but one intill his ain."

Of more consequence socially was a burial. The beadle, often fresh from shovelling out the mools or soil, went from house to house telling when the corp would lift. The friends met the evening before for a mild dairgie (dirge, from the Psalm in the Vulgate, "Domine, dirige nos") lyke-wake fashion, at the kistin' of the weel-streikit corpse. The company at a kistin' were horrified when the newly-made widow went up to the coffin, and bringing down her fist on the lid, exclaimed, "He wuzz an ill neebor there whaur he lies." There was here the long-suppressed tragedy of her married life. Next day, in the darkened parlour, the social glass was handed round before leaving for the grave, and in solemn silence, save when, as once, a bucolic voice was heard to utter his usual toast, "May never waur be amon's." The gathering of cummers (commère) for a christening was a more genial function. The goodman had to arrange some evenings before with the minister. One good wife, probably used to genteel ways when in service, schooled John well for the occasion. "Mind, when the minister speers, ye'r no to cau'd the bairn, but the infant." And in due course came this colloquy in the manse parlour. "Well, is it a boy this time, John?" "No." "Ah, then it's a bit lassie." "It's no that nether." "Dear me, John, what can it be then?" "I'm no very sure, but the wife tell't me to cau'd the elephant." The cries or banns preceded a marriage. In due time came the day when the procession trudged up the manse loan, the groom carrying in his button-hole "the rock and wee pickle tow." ​The return journey to the house was more boisterous, for it was entered amid the fusillade of rusty guns, only brought out at the Hansel Monday sports. I saw only once this old-fashioned rural wedding. The guns were fired at the door of the village inn where the bridal party dined. The lamp over the door was smashed under fire. The groom was often unequal to the greatness thrust upon him. Like Hendry in the "Window in Thrums," he failed to see what a man body had to do wi' mainers. Chalmers used to tell of a wedding in the fishing village of Buckhaven (Buckhine) at which the groom quite forgot the responses, when a more experienced friend's stage whisper was heard, "Ye eediwat, can ye no boo!" This Chalmers called "the heavings of incipient civilisation."

Small was the share of the minister in these socialities. A big voice had early betrayed his destiny. Though so many of the leaders of thought were college bred, academic terms have taken little or no hold of the people. One who had been to the college was looked up to with respect, but only he himself knew that he began as a bejant, and finished graduand. At Aberdeen, according to Beattie, an undergraduate was known in last century as a libertine (Lat. libertus, a freedman). A learned alumnus whom I have consulted on this point says, "Obviously you have struck a dodo." If he ettled at the Kirk he went through the Divinity Hall, where the great object was to acquire extempore gifts, for reading the discourse was the unpardonable sin. Great was the labour then of committing sermons to memory—manding (Lat. mandare) as it was long called in the U.P. Church. And if success followed he issued from the Presbytery examination a licentiate, and thereafter a probationer, and finally, an ordained or placed minister, with the privilege of wearing bands. I have a vision, as a little boy, of standing in the dimly lit street before a house, fascinated by the sight of a figure, casting a darkened shadow on the window as it passed and re-passed. It was a son of the house, qualifying for the pulpit by manding his discourse. In later days I saw, high up on a rock by Loch Lomond side, a similar exercise. Pleased faces of kindly neighbours were looking out the while from the doors of the paternal homestead not far off. In this case I could but see the elocutionary gestures, ​reminding me of a probationer's flight of oratory when he called statuary "the dumb dialect of cheeseld eloquence."


2. Scots and English.

The old game of Scots and English, once so popular with boys on this side the Border, anticipated those movements which are giving such prominence in high politics to the problems of race. But it has a still deeper significance. The true inwardness of the Union of 1707, and the work it has done for good or ill, have still to be adequately told. Suffice it meanwhile to fight again the old battle on its kindly but not unprofitable side, the differences of tone and accent, of diction and idiom, which distinguish natives benorth the Tweed from their southern compatriots. If Mr. Chamberlain was right in facetiously describing Scotland as having annexed England, it is all the other way where language is concerned. Our northern authors of the eighteenth century wrote under an ever-present dread that some Scoticism, as they called it, should bewray them. Burns, Scotissimus Scotorum, in playing the part of Stevenson's "sedulous ape," gave his days and nights, not to Addison alone, but to all the best models in contemporary English. The process has spread apace since his day. The youthful Scot not only mouths the latest coster slang, but condescends even to such ubiquitous English solecisms as "like I do," and the book "lays on the table." All through the seventeenth century Scotsmen wrote lay and lays for lie and lies, but they pronounced the -ay long i. In time the pronunciation changed to rhyme with "day," but the spelling remained the same. This seems to be the real source of "lays" for "lies!" To go lower still, the Glasgow street urchin used to hawk his "Vestar, a penny a box!"

Though the Scottish language lingers now only as a decadent vernacular, there was a time when it was cultivated as literature. For more than a century after the age of Chaucer, when there was scarce even a third-rate poet to be found south of Tweed, Scotland was the Muses' haunt. Strange to say, however, not till near the close of the fifteenth century was the language ever spoken of as anything but the "Inglis tongue." It was Gavin Douglas that first knew the "Scottis speech" as a generic term, ​though for long afterwards this was commonly applied only to Gaelic, the Erse of Burns's poems. Gaelic itself was universally known in Scotland as Irish. The first Marquis of Argyll had his son, Lord Lorn, fostered (educated) under Sir Colin Campbell of Glenorchy, to whom his mother writes: "I heair my son begines to weary of the Irishe langwadge. I intreatt you to cause hold hime to the speaking of itt, for since he has bestowed so long tyme and paines in the getting of itt I sould be sory he lost itt with leasiness" (Willcock's "Argyll," p. 26). For many centuries the common features of one and the same Northern speech prevailed from Humber to Grampians. The Tynesider or Yorkshireman of to-day has a vernacular far more in touch with Lowland Scots than the man of Lincoln and the Fens. Reformers like Knox and Melville had no difficulty on the score of language in consorting with the English Puritans. Shakspere is not very complimentary in his allusions to Scotland, but he notes nothing so distinctive in Northern speech as he does in Welsh. It must have been in the rôle of "schoolmaster of the nation" that James VI., addressing the Estates at Edinburgh in 1617, said reproachfully that "the Scots had learnt of the English to drink healths, wear coaches and gay clothes, take tobacco, and speak neither Scotch nor English." Nor, again, did Baillie and his fellow-presbyters find any difficulty—quite the reverse—in preaching with the utmost acceptance to the Londoners in Cromwell's time (Baillie's "Letters"). It would be hard to find much that is distinctive in the diction of Northern writers after 1603, although the speech of the people retained its national features. The later Union of 1707 was accompanied by a growing consciousness of a distinction between the Northern and Southern vernaculars. The Jacobite risings introduced a fresh disturbing factor in the shape of the Celtic element, and forthwith Scotland was blunderingly thought of in the South as a Celtic country. Then the Englishman travelled northwards, taking with him his prejudices and insular lack of curiosity. The extension of the Empire carried Scots all over the world, and these discreetly said little about their origin; but their clannishness, push and success still further emphasised distinctions in speech. Such were never observed, however, in the literary speech, only in the vernacular. Thomson, Hume, ​Smith, Robertson, Smollett, all challenge attention as English writers. Burns laboured hard to make himself the reverse of what Mr. Henley has so superficially called him—"a rather unlettered eighteenth-century Englishman." Currie, his first biographer, remarking that Scottish dialect was going out, says that "Burns, never farther south than Carlisle or Newcastle, had less of it than Hume, or perhaps than Robertson." In those days Beattie, an Aberdeen professor and elegant writer, thought it worth while to make out a list of Scoticisms (spelling of Burns and last century writers generally, to indicate the long o in use then) for reproof and instruction. Another Aberdonian professor was said to have carried modernity so far as to speak to his students of Thomas of Shanter and Shoemaker John. In our own time it would be hard to tell the nationality of an author from his printed page. As for the speech that bewrayeth, there are differences enough between any two individuals quite irrespective of their place of origin.

While literary style, like fashion in clothes, discourages the use of the archaic and characteristic, these qualities are persistent in spoken discourse. I have heard Carlyle, and his accent would have been pronounced decidedly provincial by the smart young person, but no one would question his right to a place among the masters of literary English. It is matter of common observation that the man who is consciously in touch with a well-marked vernacular like Scots, educates himself up to a high standard of purity in the use of the literary speech. The English of Inverness has been ascribed to the presence of Cromwell's soldiers, very doubtful models; but it rests on a far older and more philosophic basis. Nor is it confined to Inverness, but marks the use of any language grammatically taught, and never heedlessly employed. What English is more distinct and mellifluous than the utterance of a Highland girl who has acquired it as something apart from her mother-tongue? Only a slovenly Highland preacher would say 'he for the, char for jar, or indulge in the comic effect of yiss and divvel. In a genuine letter from Rob Roy he says: "The man that bought your quhway (quey) divill a farthing he peyd of you." These are the shibboleths which grow up with habit and environment; and so much are we the creatures of ear in speech that slight changes in tone ​and accent and pause will produce the effect, when we hear it, of a foreign tongue. This is well put by Sir Robert Christison. When studying in Paris in 1820, a time of political unrest, police spies were in all public places. At the Thèâtre Français, with his fellow-student and brither Scot, Cullen, they were cautioned by a French friend to be on their guard. "Let's kittle our freen's lugs," said Christison, "wi' a wee braid Scots." It worked well. "I have often noticed," he continues, "how thoroughly the mingling of a little Lowland Scots and genuine English renders it unintelligible to the foreigner, however familiar he may be with it in its purer form."

Apart from these general effects of separate environment, there are fundamental differences between the phonetic systems of English and Lowland Scots. The latter is more archaic, but both have developed with respective gains and losses. The Southron has grown to be excessively fond of the open, name sound of the vowels, and especially a (witness the Cockney "lidy"). The Cockney makes the most of it as a sweet morsel, and in academic circles it has severed England from all educated nations in the pronunciation of Greek and Latin. Long ago Punch hit off this point neatly in the lines,—

"O Mary, Mary, sigh for me,
For me, your Tony true:
I am become as a man dumb,
O let Hymen prompt you."

So they sounded, read Anglicè, but every word was good Latin,—

"O mare, mare, si formae,
Formae, ure tonitru:
lambicum as amandum,
Olet Hymen promptu."

This preference leads the Englishman also to shun the Italian pure a, so characteristic both of the Romance and Germanic tongues as it is of Lowland Scots. Thus in words like had, hat, this vowel becomes a thin, affected e. This typical Lowland vowel, as in man, the Englishman fails to catch, his rendering of a by the impossible mon being the nearest approach to it. In the life of the famous brothers Erskine we are told that Thomas, ​pleading before the House of Lords, said cūrătors in the Scots way, and, being twitted thereupon by Mansfield, who had the English way, curātors, he replied effectively by playing upon senātor and orātor. The Parliament House still keeps to the form cūrător. It is hard for the Scots vernacular ear to be consistent with o, witness—

poaket for pocket
jok „ joke
woarship „ worship
rod „ road
cot „ coat
prōvost „ provost (pruvvost).

The last has now quite lost its long ō, absolutely necessary as representing the Latin præpositus.

The Scot seems to have an aversion to the long sound of o and, specially where unaccented in finals, substitutes for its English value his favourite light ending, shown in diminutives like lassie, or a sound similar to final e in German. Examples of the light a substitute are—

barra for barrow
arra (also for area) „ arrow
pianna „ piano
marra „ marrow
thurra „ thorough
mota „ motto;

of the light ie substitute are—

cargie for cargo
echie „ echo
pitawtie „ potato
follie „ follow
swallie „ swallow
windie „ window.

As a medial the open sound is modified by a contiguous r; for example, firr'm (form, or bench), wurr'm (worm); or, again, lengthened as in coer'n (corn), stoer'm (storm); while an l, following, either preserves the long o (coal, mole), or is itself dropped and a quite different vocalisation appears, as row (roll), ​knowe (knoll). But even here we have further anomalies illustrated by sowel (soul), cool (cowl), fool (fowl).

The thin i again is characteristically English. The Scot as well as the foreigner breaks down here. Thus he says keeng for king, or calls a word like pin, peen, or by preference preen, or flattens the vowel, especially if near a liquid, to u (sully for silly to avoid the i sound which he knows not), or to a sound unrepresented in English, such as his rendering of tin. Mr. Chamberlain is here un-English in his aggrándĭsement, thus shunning the name-sound of i. So also Mr. Stanley used to denounce what he called "our suícĭdal" policy in West Africa. The north-eastern counties, however, delight in the attenuated form of this letter. In the case of u the Scot is better off than the Englishman, for he has the peculiar thin sound characteristic of Greek and French, as mune and gude (moon and good), in addition to such forms as we hear in cut and 'cute. All through the Scottish vowel system what is known in German as modification prevails largely. Unlike the Southron the Scot has no special liking for the name-sound of u. It is only the flattery of imitation that makes him say Bew-kanan (Buchanan) Street. A Glasgow business man enlisted the help of his daughter at a push in sending out his accounts. One of his customers was surprised to find himself addressed as Bluechanan. The explanation is that the young lady, having had a modern education (sic), was trying to correct what she knew as the vulgar pronunciation of blue (bew). Human thinking is often a wonderful process. Similarly the English preference for the name-sound of o, combined with the presence of the liquid, has changed the Rome (Room) of Shakspere's time—"Now is it Rome and room indeed" (Jul. Cæs.)—though we still say Froom (Frome), while broom (brougham) is coming into vogue again. On the other hand, it is the Irishman that preserves the seventeenth-century name-sound of a in tea, treat, repeat, though the Englishman still keeps to great (grate). Smollett, with this old sound in view, cleverly produces a comic effect, when Winifred Jenkins in his "Humphrey Clinker" writes that her mistress, having turned Methodist and Evangelical, is "growing in grease and godliness." An Irishman might still call grease, grace. The troubles of the imitative Scot are many. He speaks of Kirkcaddy, Kil-mál-colm, Cupar-Ang-gus, the ​Cowgate, the Cow-caddens. One young lady admires what she chooses to call jookery-packery, while another bids adieu, more Scottico, thus: "But I min win away." She emerges badly from the ordeal of a Scottish song, giving "snow drapping primrose" for snowdrop and primrose, and explaining the "Auld Quarry Knowe" lilt as something about the present time.

The liquids, link between vowels and consonants, seriously disturb radical vowels, as seen in the Englishman's Mary, marm, drorin-room, strawrat (straw hat), dawnce, sarvent. The treatment of l and r by Northern and Southron seems to balance, for each chooses a different one for elimination. We might put the English faam (farm) against the Scots faˈ (fall). The strange thing is that the omission of l, so characteristic of Scots, did not appear much before 1500, and for long after we find such a word as nolt instead of the spoken nowt (cattle), the English neat. In Cumberland conversely old is still oud. The vocalising of r in English words has been of recent and very rapid growth; and here again the Englishman, unlike the Scot, is strongly insular. Though essential to good fawm (form), it puts him out of touch with both the Latin and Germanic races, in both of which r is a strong trilled consonant. The icence of aspiration is now coming to be very properly tabooed as a vulgar and ignorant departure from the written language. It would be well if similar attention were given to the retention of r. But here, too, we are capricious in even obtruding this consonant where it has no business to be. On the stage and in the pulpit we hear it, and there "the very idear of such a thing" is excessively irritating. Here and in sofar, and "Asiar and Africar among continents" (heard from a recent traveller), the presence of r seems due to a strong dislike to the flat sound of a. The intrusive letter exerts its usual effect of flattening the neighbouring vowel, which is what is wanted here. Another English loss is the weakening of initial wh to w, as when one hears even a Cabinet Minister speak of "the great Wig leader." Here the Scot proceeds, in strongly sounding wh, on true archaic lines. For a time after the introduction of printing—that is to say, during the sixteenth century—he pedantically wrote it quh, but he has always stuck orally to the hw of his remote Gothic ancestors, making the h a strong ​guttural aspirate. This double consonant has disappeared from modern English entirely. A popular novelist's "whisps of fog that had lost their way" must surely be a misprint. A Scotsman and an Englishman found themselves at cross-purposes when talking on the golf links about the dangers of erratic driving. What the one called whins the other took to be winds, the sounds appearing alike from the Englishman's dropping of the h in wh, and the Scot's favourite softening of d after n. The Scottish schoolboy is actually warned by his teacher nowadays to look out for a wippin', so rapidly is the Anglicising process advancing. This is nothing, however, to the Anglican criticism of a boy's exercise, read in the class-room, as "all rot."

The Scot has his own sins of omission, chief of which is his slovenly treatment of dentals between vowels, such as Se'erday for Saturday, waa'er for water. Dr. Murray thinks it due to the neighbourhood of the Gaelic speaker, but it is a well-known feature of the Romance transition from Latin to French. Nor is there any Celtic influence in the Lanarkshire vulgarism of hree (pronounced chree) for three, and Foorsday for Thursday. The same change is found in Cumberland, where Furesday is also spoken,—

"Fra far an' neer a' Fuursday neight
Fwoke com as fast as cudbe."—

Lonsdale—"Upshot."

The Scot, however, still manfully takes the trouble to articulate his strong gutturals, though the poet Malloch changed his name to Mallet to suit Southron ears. Murdoch, who introduced gaslighting, became Murdock, but the young Anglo-Scot goes further when he asks his lady friend if she is "gowin' to the Merrdok's," when he means Murdoch's. On one point, the dropping of the last letter in the combination—ing, he is approximating to what has always been the Northern and truly archaic practice. In cases like finger, anger, and hunger again the Scot, like the German, nasalises the ng instead of doubling the g as the Englishman does. He is unfortunately imitating the Englishman, however, in such a blunder as reconise for recognise. He still keeps to the old ways in strongly sibilating words like weiss (wise) and hoosses (houses), whereas his ​neighbour now prefers the softer z. The Elizabethan, however, used the Scots hard s, as in Raleigh's "Soul's Errand,"—

"Tell Wit how much it wrangles
In tickle points of niceness;
Tell Wisdom she entangles
Herself in over-wiseness."

But he is, under Southron influences, sibilating where he ought not. Lord Kames said that the sibilating of z in Menzies, Mackenzie, and the like was enough to turn his stomach. This letter is not really a sibilant at all, but the softening of an original g such as we have in the English equivalents of the German Menge (a crowd, many) or gefallen, Chaucer's i-fallé (cf. yclept). This whole subject of Scottish and English comparative phonetics has never received anything like adequate treatment.

While the primary rocks of a Scottish phonetic system will long resist the denuding effects of English reading and converse, time will work its wonders here too. The young Scot will go on "beshin his bet" out of recognition, mouthing his kind, and cake, and Mary to his own satisfaction, and tripping over his -ng, wh-, ch-, and -r, with bated breath and studied imitation. His speech will lose in weight and distinctness, but will flow down the smooth stream of tea-room prattle and the gabble of the comic stage.

The Scots "mis-chievous" is accented, however, in his fashion, by the Elizabethan writers, as this example from Spenser's "Epithalamium,"—

"He let mis-chievous wretches with their charms
Fray us with things that be not."

Equally hazardous is the attempt to use "kenspeckle" words in the grand style as contermashous for contumacious, protticks for projects, or the Highland cook's query to her mistress, "Should I delude the soup or sicken (thicken) it?"

A little knowledge is in language a dangerous thing, as when Mrs. Parvenu is in search of a "tempery cook" and is careful to "libel" the luggage when she travels, has to put on "mournings" when a bereavement occurs, is at a " non-plush" ​when she has not another trump, or asks if the tea-cakes are "pennies each." But the task of such "sedulous apes" is laboriously slow. It is otherwise with the stock of old Scots vocables. There are ample resources of expression in English, yet evolution in language does not always secure the survival of the fittest. In many cases the vernacular seems to carry more than the literary speech. What Scot would exchange the revived Greek nous for his time-honoured gumshon, or Yankee 'cuteness for smeddum, or the very modern go for through-pit, or a quick intelligence for gleg i' the up-tak. The modern man is rather proud of his smart hanky-panky, but it cannot compare with the severe but kindly jookery-pawkery. Even that phonetic nut umhm! is preferable to its English form ahem! which he never pronounces. Could tenderness surpass dawtie, hinny, doo, or contempt be more withering than gawpus, gomeril (Cumb. "Thoo is a gert gommeral, to be sure"), tawpie, sumph, or opprobrium arm itself with severer epithets than besom, limmer, randy? Is there more perfect visualising than Burns's scorn for the sordid sons of Mammon?—

"Their worthless nievefou (handful) o' a soul
May in some future carcase howl!"

Or Chalmers's obiter dictum, "Jacob was too much of a sneck-drawer and Esau was the snool about the pottage," or his delight when "an auld wife hirsled aff a dyke to curtsey to him." Chalmers took a real delight in the Doric to which his oratorical instincts prompted him—witness these, "There was great chivalry in David pouring out the water before the Lord. I would e'en have ta'en a willie-waucht. As a student at St. Andrews I remember with what veneration I regarded the Professors. When I was one myself I used to wonder if these gilpies could have the same feeling towards me." Good, too, are Aytoun's splendid Fozie Tam in "How I became a Yeoman," or Donald's description of his mare, Mysie, in "Robert Urquhart," a truthful tale of Fifeshire life, "She's a real frake when she's wantin' onything," where frake is so different from its German cognate frech. The Orcadian frack describes a weak, delicate person. Fraykin was a favourite with my mother, used exactly as in "Robert Urquhart." Nor is Scots wanting in a rich ​variety of concrete expression. We have every grade of quantity among a humble folk, considerate of small things, in the series—a tait, a curn, a stime, a bittock, a hantle, a wheen, a feck, while nothing can be more comprehensive than "the hale-apothick." This last is either a surprising use of the Greek apothēkē, a granary, storehouse, or is based on the farmer's familiarity with the law of hypothec. Nor were such harmless affsets to conversation awanting as Losh peetie me! My certie! My san! Sal! Goavie-dick! A low comedian, Pillans, prime favourite with Edinburgh audiences in the sixties, used the last cryptic expression with great effect. Apropos of a favourite expletive, there is a good story in the life of the Erskines. Before the Mound in Edinburgh assumed its present elegant appearance it was a rough embankment called the Mud Brig, and a favourite place for caravans and wild-beast shows. Lord Hermand, taking this as the usual route between the Parliament House and the New Town, was so excited over the news he had just heard of the defeat of the Ministry of All the Talents that he kept on muttering to himself, "They're a' oot, by the Lord Hairry! They're a' oot!" A good woman, hearing him and thinking only of the wild beasts, flung herself into his arms, saying, "Oh! save me and then my bairns."

This comparative list shows how difficult it is to do justice in English to a group of graphic descriptive epithets:—

Scots. English.
blate, feebly rendered as coy, shy
gleg, „ 'cute
dweeble, „ pliable, lithe
dowie, „ sad, in Elizabethan and Miltonic sense
fikie, „ fastidious
furthie, „ abundantly hospitable
couthie, „ kindly
fashiss, „ ill to please
wersh, „ insipid
bauch, „ dull (in surface)
croose, „ cocky.
​The English presentation of negative qualities wants the vigour of these:—
Scots. English.
feckless feeble
fushonless without virtue or grit
menshless immoderate, insatiable
thowless handless
wairdless thriftless
taebetless benumbed.

The more one studies English historically the more is one convinced that what Gavin Douglas called the Scottis tongue was substantially one with what his predecessors named the Inglis tongue. Certainly crowds of old words and expressions ceased to be intelligible to Englishmen long before they died out in the north, but this is only to say that literary culture and social development lagged there a full century behind the pace of the south. This element, so long archaic to Englishmen, has now almost disappeared from the Scottish vernacular. Alongside of this, however, there are uses of the common living English stock of words which are essentially idiomatic in Scotland. These idioms are generally of great antiquity. Take the common word greet. There is no doubt that its meaning in Scots, to weep, is much older than the modern, to welcome. In the Gothic Gospels (fourth century), "When the cock crew, Peter, going out, wept bitterly"—"Usgaggands ut gaigrot baitraba." If we remember that the reduplicating preterite here, gaigrot, became a monosyllabic strong preterite, this Gothic is good Scots, "Gangin oot he grat bitterly." Similarly cry, to call—to "Cry on the maan"—better preserves the sense of its cognates, écrier, scream, screech, than the English. Hamlet's town-crier was not expected to weep. The forensic expression, to challenge a juror, preserves a meaning of the word which is vernacular in Scots from the "Him 'at chalengis the gudis" of the "Ancient Burgh Laws" to the current, "I was never challenged for that afore," It has always meant, to call in question, accuse, reprimand, and never been like Lat. provocare, to call to combat. The verb learn ought never to do duty now for teach, but the Scoticism, "learn the boy his ​lessons," would have passed muster with even elegant English writers of the eighteenth century. It has left its mark in the proverb, "Learn the cat to the kirn (churn) and she'll aye be lickin'." On the other hand, "to hearken one his lessons," in the sense of hear him say, has been developed on independent lines. Similarly idiomatic are such uses of tell, as, "It'll no be tellin you"—not to your advantage or credit, and "Tell him to come"—bid him come. Scots retains much of the Elizabethan freedom in making verbs. Thus, to even has the peculiar senses of "think equal to," and "mention" in connection with an eligible. Along with this there is a characteristic quaintness, as in Robertson of Ochtertyre's remark about an old Scottish lady: "She was an excellent woman as long as she was herself." The reviewer's statement, on the other hand, to the effect that "though Mr. Barr's wit is American, he is not himself," is mere journalistic slipshod. A Scot, however, will in all good faith say "I had lost myself, and asked the way." Peculiarly odd is the idiom in "The children took their bare feet, and went to the sands," "He knew what I wanted, but never let on" (said a word of explanation). "I don't like to crave (dun) a man for debt," "The book is sitting on the table." Characteristic of Glasgow and neighbourhood is the frequent use of get as an auxiliary—e.g. "Can I get going to the post?"

Scots has always had a strong preference for the adjectival use of the past participle in -ed, hardened where possible into it or et. This comes out in many forms such as pointet for tidy, the twa-neukit (cornered) moon, champet (mashed) tatties, roopit (hoarse from cold), boolie-backet (round-shouldered). In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries these were pronounced literary forms. A stout old Jacobite lady thought Prince Charlie "an ill-usit lad." Preterites of verbs ending in a dental generally drop the suffix -ed, a feature of Shakspere's English also. To this we owe such pasts as put, cut, hit. The Scot said cuttit for cut, and puttit as well as pat for the past of put, and even preferred hotten to hit. The Orcadian says hitten in the past participle, past hat (Sc. hote or hutt). This rule is observed even in modern words. A cyclist was warned not to ride on the footpath with the remark "That's proheebit, sir." This ​applies specially to "lang-nebbit" words of Latin origin, as in, "It's braw to be weel eddicate," just as Shakspere writes (1 Hen. IV.), "These things indeed you have articulate" (expressed). Another Elizabethan feature is the use of a strong preterite for a participial form. Thus, in "King Lear," we read," I dare pawn down my life for him that he hath wrote this to feel my affection." Lord Stair said, "All letters from Lord-Advocate Craigie, before and after Prestonpans, were wrote like a man of sense and courage." This Shaksperian characteristic is found in many of last century letters, even those of English ministers. Chancellor Hardwicke to Lord President Dundas has "was writ." Newcastle again says, "Sir Alexander Gilmour is very much threatened that he shall not be chose again for the city of Edinburgh." Another correspondent, speaking of Sir John Cope, says, "He has rose fast to considerable rank and preferment." Only the uneducated would now say, "The man has corned, is went away, begoud (began) his work early, I seen him do it."

Some well-marked differences between Scots and English fall under the head of relational expressions. Such idioms as these are common: "This is the man as told me," "Still in life," "Had it in his offer," "He speaks through his sleep." A favourite preposition in the Scots vernacular is at—"Angry at him, asked at him, a hatred at him." In "Robert Urquhart" we read, "Robert Muir took scant notice of his neighbour's belated sympathy. He had seen how his mother had suffered at their tongues when she was alive." Other prepositions are equally characteristic. Witness the phrases, "A pound in a present," "No fault to him," "Better o' a dram," "Married on," "Oot amon' thae neeps," "Oot the hoose at wance," "Aboon the lave," "A slater to his trade." There is change in progress even in modern English. Thus Gray wrote, "What cat's averse to fish?" Formerly from had been more frequent in such a case, and this is coming in again. Quite recently to has superseded from after "different." Shakspere uses avert without a' preposition, "To avert your liking a more worthier way" (Lear).

What would now be deemed a vulgarism, alongst for along, was very frequent till near the close of the eighteenth century. Mrs. Calderwood, as well as many English writers, uses ​it constantly, as here, "You must carry this alongst with you." It is also in ballads like the "Battle of Harlaw,"—

"Alangst the lands of Garioch
Great pitie was to hear and see."

The modern vernacular admits also wanst and twicet. The equally faulty whilst has quite superseded whiles in good English. While is really a noun (Ger. Weile), whiles is its genitive case used adverbially, to which t has been added by a false analogy with superlatives. Whilie is the Scottish noun; the monosyllable while, pronounced whill, means until. After comparatives than has become fixed in English. Scots prefers by, meaning in comparison with, nor, and as, reserving than for the sense of then: "He's an aulder maan by me," "She's better nor she's bonny," "I would rather go as stay." It has nothing corresponding to the faulty conjunctive use of like instead of as, so marked in English, e.g. "He feels like I do," but it uses the prepositions without and except for unless as a conjunction. The adverbial like in Scots, as "He did it that way like," is still a common German idiom. Another Teutonism is the admissible use of any adjective as an adverb. This is very common in Shakspere, but would be condemned now. Equally characteristic is the use of that for so: "I'm that thrang the noo." The expression for negation shows the surprising persistence of the original Indo-European particle nā exactly as in Sanskrit nā, Greek and Latin ne with imperatives. This strong form is like the German nein. As a strong negative, equivalent to an affirmative here, it is preferred to not—e.g. " That's no bad," "It's no a good day," "She's no bonny," "'Deed no." The enclitic form is well marked: "Ye mannă bide lang." In compounds the Saxon un- is preferred to the Latin in- just as we find it in Shakspere. Scots delights in words like "oncanny," "onbonny," "onneat." Distinctively Northern are thir and thae for these and those. It is in his sparing use of such forms that Burns shows either unfamiliarity with the vernacular, or more probably the chastening influence of his English education. He more frequently resorts to the most characteristic of Northern idioms, the declension of the verb present with s throughout, except immediately preceded by the personal pronoun in the ​nominative, as "I come." Even here dialectic decay asserts itself in the colloquial "says I." Pure Northern are such forms as "we wuz" for we were, "some speaks o' lords," &c. The apparent solecism, often heard even from young people educated entirely on English, "Thae wurr a man," for there was a man, is very interesting. "Thae," not the article here, is far older than there. In German the two forms exist together as da and dort. "Wurr," again, is just was, pronounced wuzz, with the usual change of s to r between vowels. This favourite Northern usage has given us are and were for the older is and was in plural as well as singular. The infinitive of purpose keeps its old preposition "for" in Soots as persistently as "pour" in French or "um zu" in German. The subjunctive has quite gone now, but it is regular in Shakspere and in Burns, though these are so far apart in time. In the "First Commonplace Book" Burns writes, "Nobody can be a proper critic of love compositions except he himself in one or more instances have been a warm votary of the passion." Here we have the subtle Scotticism in the use of except as a conjunction instead of unless. His editors sometimes presume to tamper with this subjunctive.

In recent years we have witnessed a change of venue in philological pursuits. Investigation used to be concentrated on the structure of words, so as to get at historical development. But increased attention to dictionary-making, to style, and to international intercourse has brought to the front neglected phases of word growth, such as the import of words, the mental attitude of those who have either coined new metaphors or diverted old ones to suit modern wants. This line, if pursued, would provide educational discipline as fertile as it is novel. A French writer, M. Bréal, devotes a recent work to this new and most interesting development of philology, his "Essai de Sémantique."

In this connection comparative idiom throws light on the Scottish way of looking at things. Significant are such buried metaphors as to "straucht one's legs" for to take a walk, "change the feet" for putting on fresh stockings, "break one's word," "he's no himsel the day," or "he's cairrit," to express a delirious condition, "to feel a smell," "to have a want or to ​hae a misfortune," "to think shame," "to mind it weel," "to pou' a flower," "to stay at a place." In the use of particles with verbs Scots is strongly Germanic, as cast up, a kick-up, tak on (run up an account), tackin in, up-tack, intack, oncast, oncost. A logical habit comes out in the use of "argue" for goes to prove, as "A hang-dug glower argues a man either a thief or an ill-set scoondrel." The wrangling of the causeyhead lives in "argie bargie." Odd uses from the English point of view are to cry on a man to arrest his attention, "gie him a cry in the passin'"; to challenge or call in question, with its synonym to quarrel; to tell for to bid or order, to turn sick, to weary alone, to think shame. My watch is behind, to play cards, What o'clock will it be? Mrs. Calderwood (1758) uses one of the above words, quarrel, in characteristic fashion thus: "Lady Nell bought a gown and quareled wi' the talior (Fr. tailleur) that made it. Capt. Dalrymple bought some cravats and quareled wi' the woman that made them, and she scolded him like a tinkler."

The Scot is credited with Doric reticence, but on occasion he protests too much, as in "There's no matter" for no matter, "He was in use" for he used to, "I'm hopeful that" for I hope, a four-square table for a square table. Even in the formation of words he errs by excess, as mishanter for mischance, residenter for resident. At times there is method in his excess. Tinkler and kittlen seem to carry more than tinker and kitten. On the other hand, he takes a short cut in inconvene, slippy under influence of the German suffix ig, necessar, ordinar, expiry for the clumsy expiration.

Metaphorical epithets offer another characteristic feature as a coarse day, dull o' hearin', fresh weather, a windy (boastful) body, chancy for risky. But even matters of fact are not put in the English way, witness cripple for lame, failed for debilitated, frail for feeble in health and its opposite, stout, an inward (internal) trouble, hard fish, sweet butter, roasted cheese, butter and bread, fork and knife. Some of the commonest words become in the North traps for the unwary Englishman. Thus his fog is moss, and a pig in a bed is very different from a pig in a poke. Sidelights again on social history are thrown by special uses, for ​

Scots.   English.
minister = clergyman
elder = in deacon's orders: found only in alderman
Communion = Eucharist
chamberlain = land steward
grieve = head man on a farm
tradesman = workman
wright = joiner
carpenter = shipwright
lime shells = lime for mortar
chimley = fireside
merchant = shopkeeper
gear = worldly goods
deals = boards
plenishing = household requisites
providin' = bridal trousseau
friends = relatives
juice = gravy or sauce
pouch = pocket
keep = fodder.

One often hears Lowland Scots declared to be little more than English mis-pronounced or mis-spelt or both at once. Of course there is individuality in pronunciation—nowhere more so—as in every form of personal presentation. But as Scots is much more archaic, and as the tradition of book knowledge has been with it more persistent and more thorough, it will be found that supposed mistakes often represent an older and historically correct usage. Thus preen would be voted but a vulgar double of pin. But the Gaelic prine, and Mid.Eng. preon, and Norse prjoun (needle) should give us pause. In the German Pfriem, Kluge compares the change of n to m with pilgrim for Fr. pelerin, Lat. peregrinus. To take one other example, protticks might be considered but a blundered projects, but Gaelic has prattick, a trick, A.S. praett, craft, Norse pretti, a trick, A.S. praettig, tricky, and Eng. pretty.

Certain idiomatic expressions show a curiously contrasted point of view in passing from the general to the particular. The following have a general sense—meat, storm, wife, yard. ​On the other hand, the particular is preferred in beasts for farmstock, harvest or hairst for autumn, policy for pleasure grounds, planting for plantation, corn for oats, victual for rations, labour for to till, manage for to get through with. Another mode of particularising is to use my or the as "Is my dennir ready?" "I'll come i' the noo" for just now, or "the morn's mornin'" for to-morrow morning, I've got the cold, going to the kirk. Where quantity is concerned Scots follows the German partitive usage as a bit bread, a wheen grozers, even a few soup. Equally German is some better for somewhat (etwas), cow milk, a cloth brush. It also prefers the plural for the expression of a distributive sense in dealing with materials as thae (these, but a quite different and older form) soup or porridge, my linens for underclothing, corns for crop, pennies each, mournings, jobbings. Contrariwise it follows a Saxon practice in saying six horse as we still say ten feet, twenty year. Scotland, it has been sarcastically said, has quietly annexed England, and it may be part of the process to find expressions now in general use which a purist like Beattie, an Aberdeen professor of last century and very notable in his day as philosopher and poet, warned his Northern contemporaries carefully to avoid if they wished to conceal their origin. He instances homologate, maltreat, militate, restrict (limit), liberate, succumb, notice, wrote him. He warns his compatriots not to say, "Give me a drink," but a draught, and to speak of a milch cow, not a milk cow. The Latin re, now in general use, is a poor equivalent for the "anent" of his taboo-list. From good Scots writers of almost his own day one can cull curiosities of usage, such as Cockburn's frequent use of "transpire" and Jeffrey's "refrain" as an active verb in the sense of the Lat. refrenare. English writers of an earlier period use what would now be scarcely admissible expressions, such as Swift's "Styles and I do not cotten," or Penn's advice to his sons in his will, "to act on the square;" or a use of idioms now purely Scottish, as Defoe to Harley, "I doubt I throng you with letters."

Idioms die hard. In spite of free schools, penny magazines, and penny poets, these expressions will long remain to betray the Anglified Scot. Dialect words, on the other hand, disappear with the pursuits, customs, and all the concrete equipment of ​speech, out of which their roots are nourished. For they are nothing in themselves. Hobbes has well said, "Words are the counters of wise men, but the money of fools." Their virtue lies in previous accretions of thought which they vivify by assimilation. It is in respect of the associations they recall that the loss of them affects the capacity for finding pleasure in language. The great weakness of our educational system is its academic and analytic character. For centuries the schoolboy has studied the mechanism of language, not the expression of human life and interests, with nose over printed text and finger in lexicon. The ear and the imagination have not worked in unison so as to visualise the situation and give it its place in the world of fact. The effect is to fill our dictionaries with words which reveal their content to the logician and scholar. The corrective to this lies in the recognition of the historic mother-tongue. Created by needs which were lying to hand, its diction is suggestive of the concrete representation that is of the essence of poetry. It is a healthy sign of a national literature when it keeps in touch with its vernacular as based on natural observation, humour, and pathos. Better this than to strain after the striking or familiar by the use of coterie slang. The dramatic instincts of Mr. Kipling seem to have imposed a diction which shocks the more punctilious, but even so good a stylist as Mr. Augustine Birrell quite needlessly offends good taste when he speaks of certain people's scholarship being "no great shakes," or tells us that "a vast number of people do not care a rap about reading."

The foregoing is an attempt to exploit a subject which may fairly be said to have escaped learned discussion, though much of the matter of it is part of our everyday experience. Extended observation might not only widen the view here outlined, but fill up many gaps.


3. Dialect in Lowland Scotland.

The word dialect has been coined for us by those early Greek grammarians who endeavoured to present their matchless literature and language to the duller understandings of their Roman conquerors. They thus differentiated the Ionic, ​Doric, Aeolic dialects from the classical Attic, all dignified equally with it by the possession of literary monuments. But the modern dialect is something quite beneath the notice of the grammarians, and too vulgar and coarse for literary treatment. To it may well be applied the words of Comus to the Lady,—

"It is for homely features to keep home,
They had their name thence."

The peasant lends picturesqueness to the canvas, but the literary artist must trick him out as the conventional Corydon and Thestylis. Spenser tried in his "Shepherd's Calendar" to make his peasants speak "in habit as they lived." But the experiment broke down when they proceeded to discuss ecclesiastical politics and the creed of Puritanism. Then their language ceased to be the dress of their thought. The diction of Spenser, indeed, is as ideal as his matter, hence his lack of a general vogue. His case shows the dependence, for vitality, of literature on the homely vernacular. In Scotland the persistence of a distinct vernacular with its human appeal has given universality to Burns and Scott, whereas in England the vernacular in post-Elizabethan literature has had but a local interest. It is dialect pure and simple.

Dialect as the humble patois or tongue shaped by the environment of locality, occupation, or manners, is in a sense equivalent to vernacular, both presenting speech in undress. The vernacular, however, is more correctly the mother-tongue, the speech to which we are born, and as much our inheritance as gait and features. "When we take heed, under the influence of education or example, our speech may approximate more or less to literary form, but it never quite reaches it. If this be so, one may well question the appropriateness of Mr. T. F. Henderson's title, "The History of Scottish Vernacular Literature," for the gist of the whole matter is that the vernacular is not literature, else should we all be talking prose and verse without knowing it. Now, the works of which he has to treat—those of Barbour, Douglas, Dunbar, Lindesay, and the rest—are as much literary monuments as those of their English contemporaries. Yet, would a "History of English Vernacular ​Literature" follow Mr. Henderson's plan? His title would imply also that the Scot has no right to regard English as his mother-tongue. The authors on his list would certainly have resented any such limitation. Nor will anyone who has had the misfortune to be born north of Tweed be likely thus to disclaim his inheritance in English. Even the Englishman cannot disown kinship with the Northern speech or neglect to cultivate an intimate acquaintance with it. The native speech that characterises the provincial districts of England differs from the standard English quite as much as the Northern speech, but here an important distinction asserts itself. The various tongues in rural England have remained mere dialects, whereas Scotland developed and cultivated for centuries such a literature as entitles us to speak of a Scottish language, the sister tongue of English.

If dialect be regarded, then, as only localised vernacular, have we evidence that anything of the kind is found to prevail in Scotland? There is something to be said for a negative answer. We have not a case here on all-fours with the provincial dialects of England, which, for obvious reasons, have been much more thoroughly segregated. Almost nothing has been done for the general diffusion of these dialects, whereas Scotland has been remarkable for the unusual quantity and widespread popularity, not alone of national, but also of dialect, literature. Hence it happens that the great bulk of Scottish vocables are diffused more or less over all Scotland. Nay, the Northern genius in tale and song has successfully planted a mass of its vocables in English itself. Thus it would be almost an insult to an educated Englishman to gloss such words as ane, auld, bonnie, wee, canny, cosy, dour, blate, sweer, couthy, fashous, weel, ettle, thole, pree, coup, hirple, speer, to select a few at random out of hundreds. Another crowd of words represents but English disguised in form or meaning or both, such as weel, waur, sair, stoor, ca', dunt, brizz, cauld, cripple, wyce, scart, brunt, warsle. It is such adventitious dialect that the modern writers of song and novel draw upon to give local colour to their style. The results are not without a suspicion of trading on false pretences, as when a Thrums weaver is made to say, "Gang straight forrard," or a character in "Cleg Kelly" ​speaks of "The likes of you." The archaic is twisted, too, into doing duty as current. A favourite with Mr. Crockett in a forced sense is awsome, as "It's an awsome nice scene." This is but an abuse of the old and very interesting "ugsome," still heard in the Border counties. A favourite with him, too, is the wicks, applied to the corners of the mouth. The curler is familiar with "wickin a bore," but I have never met with anything like the novelist's use of "wicks." A much more successful artist is the clever and amusing lady who writes "Penelope in Scotland." Her plan was much after the orthodox Kailyard fashion. "Then we made a list of Scottish idols—pet words, national institutions, stock phrases, beloved objects—convinced that if we could weave them in we should attain atmosphere. Here is the first list:—Thistle, tartan, haar, haggis, kirk, claymore, parritch, broom, whin, sporran, whaup, plaid, scone, collops, whisky, mutch, cairngorm, oatmeal, brae, kilt, brose, heather, fowk o' Fife, Paisley bodies, gentlemen of the North, men of the South." Her greatest triumph is a rhymed "Farewell to Edinburgh," into one line of which she contrives to put the delightful hotch-potch, "hoots, losh, havers, blethers."

On such lines must the Scottish vernacular be written in these days. Hear, however, what Stevenson, the last of the makkars, has to say on the existence of dialect in Scotland:—

"I note again, that among our new dialecticians, the local habitat of every dialect is given to the square mile. I could not imitate this nicety if I desired; for I simply wrote my Scots as I was able, not caring if it hailed from Lauderdale or Angus, Mearns or Galloway; if I had ever heard a good word I used it without shame; and when Scots was lacking, or the rhyme jibbed I was glad (like my betters) to fall back on English. For all that I own to a friendly feeling for the tongue of Fergusson and of Sir Walter, both Edinburgh men; and I confess that Burns's has always sounded in my ear like something partly foreign. And indeed I am from the Lothians myself; it is there I heard the language spoken about my childhood; and it is in the drawling Lothian voice that I repeat it to myself. Let the precisians call my speech that of the Lothians, and if it be not pure, alas! what matters it? The day draws near when this illustrious and malleable tongue shall ​be quite forgotten; and Burns's Ayrshire and Dr. Macdonald's Aberdeen-awa' and Scott's brave metropolitan utterance will be all equally the ghosts of speech. Till then I would love to have my hour as a native makkar, and be read by my own country-folk in our own dying language; an ambition surely rather of the heart than of the head, so restricted as it is in prospect of endurance, so parochial in bounds of space."

No one has a better right to speak on this subject than Stevenson. Dowered above most moderns with the gift of style and a temperament keenly susceptible to human influences, he best could stamp the hall-mark of genius on what survives of the humble northern Doric. Since the peasant's pipe fell from the hands of Burns no note has been struck that is so genuinely true to the national character and sentiment as his "Underwoods." To the testimony of a consummate literary artist like Stevenson regarding the existence of local dialects in the north may be added that of a professed philologist, Dr. J. A. H. Murray. His "Dialects of the South of Scotland" is the only systematic treatment of the subject that we may be said to have. Dr. Murray says: "It is customary to speak of Scots as one dialect (or language), whereas there are in Scotland several distinct types and numerous varieties of the Northern tongue, differing from each other markedly in pronunciation and to some extent also in the vocabulary and grammar. The dialects of adjacent districts pass into each other with more or less of gradation, but those of remote districts (say, for example, Buchan, Teviotdale, and Ayr), are at first almost unintelligible, to each other, and, even after practice has made them mutually familiar, the misconception of individual words and phrases leads to ludicrous misunderstandings." He arranges these dialects in three groups—a North-eastern, a Central, and a Southern—which may be further subdivided into eight minor divisions, or sub-dialects. The first group, or dialects north of Tay, seems to fall into three sub-dialects—Caithness, Moray and Aberdeen, and Angus. In the central group are the sub-dialects of Lothian and Fife, of Clydesdale, of Galloway and Carrick, and of the Highland border from Loch Lomond to the Braes of Angus. The southern group is represented only by the dialect of the Border counties from Tweed to Solway, and ​from the Cheviots to Locher Moss. He proceeds to give an exhaustive analysis of his native Border group, bringing in much that is of great value and originality in connection not only with the other groups, but with the historic relationships of these dialects to literary Scots. His concern is, however, mainly with the grammar and pronunciation.

With the exception of Dr. Murray's monograph, there exists no systematic treatment of the subject and nothing of the dialects as a whole. This compares badly with continental efforts in such a field. As far back as 1819 there was published an exhaustive Dialektologie for Switzerland, with a comparative presentation of the parable of the Prodigal Son in all the Swiss dialects. About the same time Jamieson produced the first part of his dictionary, in which something of this sort was attempted for Scotland, but in no scientific or systematic fashion. So indifferent was either he or his public that nearly twenty years elapsed before he finished his task, and even then Henry Cockburn complains that he had made no use of the recent researches of Thomson and other antiquaries. It would be easy to find illustrations of how the study of dialects emphasises the defects of Jamieson. Take one from the most distinctive of all the dialects, the Shetland. As recently as 1897 Dr. Jakobsen of Copenhagen published two most interesting and suggestive lectures on this subject, in which he frequently supplements both Jamieson and Edmonston. Thus Jamieson at one point notes tuva-keuthie as unexplained, giving as authority an "Ancient MS. Explication of Norish Words in Orcadian." Jakobsen comes to the rescue: "Kudda" is usually applied to a small rounding point, originally to a "bag," and akin to kod, a pillow (well known in Scots and obsolete English). Some of the Kuddas go by the name of Tevakudda, the first part being O.N. theofa, to waulk or shrink cloth. They are places at the seashore, where people used formerly to fasten "wadmel," the old Shetland cloth, in order that it should shrink and consequently grow thicker and closer by the action of the ebb and flow of the tide. The word is now lost in its original sense in Shetland, but is preserved in the expressions, "to tove (toss) a body (person) aboot" and "dere's a tove (commotion) in the sea." The verb to taave or ty-ave still lives in Aberdeenshire in ​the sense of "pottering about, Handy-Andy fashion." Gregor noted it in Buchan as "labouring hard": "He tyeuve on a' weenter wi' consumption, an' dee't i' the spring," "He tew throo a' the loss o's nowt (cattle), an' noo he hiz stockit-siller" (cash laid past). In Cumberland we find "teav," to fidget with hand or foot, and "tew," physical exhaustion, as—

"Git oot wid the', Jwohnny, thou's tew't me reet sair;
Thou's brocken my comb, an' thou's toozelt my hair."—

Gibson—"Jwohnny."

Even in English we have it in taw or tew, to prepare skins so as to dress them into leather. Skeat quotes here from Aelfric's "Homilies," "Seo deoful eow tawode," the devil scourged you, which explains the familiar taws, the Scottish ferula. The metaphor now is familiarly expressed by a hiding. The Shetland mode of preparing cloth suggests the old Hebridean mode of curing leather, which was to sink the hides in a stream or in a tidal flow. In the old Statistical Account there are various references to this primitive mode of fulling cloth.

Much might be said in favour of a new Jamieson. It should present the results of a scientific inquiry into the whole history and development of the Scottish language. But quite independent of such an arduous enterprise, there is room for the study of dialect, whether living or obsolescent, in respect of the localising of idioms and vocables, and especially in preserving the more obvious characteristics of tone and accent. A learned treatise on systematic botany leaves an ample field for the humble local inquirer in observing and noting the habitat, distribution, and parochial appreciation, as it were, of the familiar weeds and flowers that are "born to blush unseen" by the scientist. The English Dialect Dictionary annexes the whole Scottish vernacular as an English dialect, to be entered in much the same fashion as Wilts, Yorkshire, Shropshire words. Apart from consequent imperfect localising of words there is evidence in the entries of a loose employment of Sc., when we find darn figuring as Sc, Eng., Amer., and the kindred dash as Sc. Ir., Eng., Amer. Again the dight, familiar to every reader of L'Allegro, "The clouds in thousand liveries dight," appears as Sc, Ir., Linc, Sussex. The only Scottish authority given is Fergusson's Poems, ​more than a century old now and themselves imitative. The true Scottish form is dicht (strong guttural), in general use and in various meanings. It is now simply a vulgar term, to wipe up, clean, though farmers still "dicht" or clean the corn in winnowing. Greater dignity attaches to the word in German, where Dichter is a poet, cf. Scots makkar and Greek Poiētes. The very common chows for small or smiddy coals is noted as obsolete Scots, no fresher illustration of it being given than a reference to the Statistical Account of a century ago, as quoted by Jamieson. The same mistake is made with the well-known cirsackie, a workman's coarse overall, "obs. Scots, Tennant's Poems," while the rarer form carsackie appears as Fife (Jamieson) and Ayr. Cirrseckie, not the impossible carsackie, is the Fife form. Then we have such surprising bits of information as this: "Brether, a plural for brothers, is in everyday use in Fife. In towns it has in some degree given place to brithers, but in the country it still holds its own." No doubt plurals such as childer and brether were at one time distinctively Northern, "but children and brethren only are found in writings from the sixteenth century." An entry in Chambers's "Domestic Annals" under the year 1600 gives a very late example of brether. "In Edinburgh this day at nine hours at even a combat or tulzie was fought between twa brether of the Dempsters and ane of them slain."

The omissions, also, are not a few. Bunker, not in Jamieson, is absent here, as well as such familiar words as carblin=wrangling, carcidge=carcase, chops me!, clack=gundy, cripple as an adjective. The word doach for a salmon trap or cruve is given, but not localised, as it ought to have been, on the Galloway Dee. The unknown daver=stun, stupefy, is given as Sc., Ir., N.-country, though the true form is doaver, to be in a dose. Professed omissions—kept back from want of information—are caddle, four in the game of cherry-pip or papes; cip, to play truant; cruden, a partan or crab. The first used to be known to most Edinburgh lassies, cip is the "playing kip" of the Glasgow boy, and cruden is a corrupt form of the Ayrshire and Campbeltown cruban, i.e. crab, with the usual suffixed article. The boost of Burns, "boost to pasture," appears under the sense of to guide, with a query. The usage, quoted from Wigtownshire, ​"he buist to do it" (Jam.), might have suggested that we have here the well-known "bu'd to be," behoved to be, under the influence of an analogy with must, which latter is properly in Scots "mun or maan," as in the proverb, "Him 'at wull to Cupar maan to Cupar." The expression is also Orcadian.

We ought all to be proud of such a work as the English Dialect Dictionary. On every page it throws light from England on Scottish vocables, thus emphasising the fact of an essential kinship in vernacular speech from the Humber to the Gaelic Border, and westwards to the Presbyterian colony in Ulster. Thus there seems to be some original racial heredity to account for dike meaning, south of Humber, a ditch (cf. Ger. Teich, a pool), and north, a wall. If, as I am told, dike in Ayrshire means ditch, this may be due to the fact that when enclosing began there last century the common fence, in the absence of stone, was a ditch with a thorn hedge planted on the top of the bank that had been made higher by the soil thrown out to form the trench. In Holland a dyk is a wall, while graben is a ditch. Northumberland, too, has surprising links with Scotland. My friend, Mr. Atkinson, mining inspector for the North-Eastern District, tells me that the word is familiar to the Northumberland collier. The spiteful mischief done in the pit is set down to the cutty-soam, a goblin that haunts mines and cuts the tackle for the hutches. So far good. Professor Wright has done a notable work in the English Dialect Dictionary, but he must perforce give a poor account of Scotland from the Scotsman's point of view. The partner is here as elsewhere too predominant. For one thing, the work shows an unwise dependence on Jamieson. This must explain the inclusion of Scottish law terms in an English dialect dictionary, though these are all good English words used in a special archaic sense. Even in such disguised forms as cayshin and cayshner it is easy to recognise caution and cautioner, for which the Englishman now uses security, and the surety who pledges it. This dependence on Jamieson is doubly unfortunate, since he is specially weak in dialect. Nor will the defect be altogether made good by gleanings from what might be called the parochial muse of the minor singers, however rich as this undoubtedly is in local words. Moreover, dialect is ever shifting, ever growing. It is ​the slang and coterie talk of the masses. Thirty years ago to every boy in East Fife correction by the time-honoured taws was known under the name of pawmies, French paume as in jeu de paume or rackets. As far back as 1604 we find the Aberdeen Presbytery enforcing a magistrates' edict ordering that, "for repression of oaths and the like, every householder should keep a palmer and therewith punish all offenders." Nowadays in East Fife pawmie has given place to caker, an incomer from Dundee. In those early days neither the Dundee accent nor vocables had travelled far across Tay. But increased intercourse by rail has altered all this. Similarly, a learned friend assures me that curn, a small quantity, is not indigenous in the Kingdom of Fife but imported from Forfarshire. From the North, too, has recently crept all along the coast the "Smoky," as the modern development of the Finnan Haddie is called.

Can the study of those homely, but fast disappearing, dialects be justified on the score either of utility or necessity? Certainly no one would wish the flavour of rusticity or provincialism to linger about what any educated Scotsman either speaks or writes. In this he must be inspired with such an ambition as that which made Burns so ardent a student, to know and to use English as well as any educated Englishman. But this, no more than in his case, need cut us off from those charms of memory and imagination by which homely speech keeps us in touch with rural life, simple manners, time-honoured customs, youthful associations. For my own part the study of those poor relations in the family of speech has vivified forgotten associations, explained much that was obscure, and thrown many side-lights on what was deemed familiar. For it would be a great mistake to assume that the average man, though born and brought up in Scotland, knows these expressions, so apt to be looked down upon, when those who are very much above the average in intellectual curiosity and capacity are found wanting in this knowledge. A Galloway laird, a well-known and versatile contributor to current literature and an authority on matters Scottish, was talking with some farmers on his own estate. When he spoke of the Guisers his auditors failed to follow him, as they knew them only as the Mummers—children who go from door to door at Hogmanay time. Later on they had the ​better of him, when someone was described as "having a mant" (a stutter), an expression quite new to him. Few have done so much for a knowledge of Old Scotland as Dr. Robert Chambers. His "Domestic Annals," "Traditions of Edinburgh," "Popular Rhymes of Scotland" will for ever keep his memory fresh. Yet when noting, in the first of these works, the account given by Law the diarist of the earliest exhibition of an elephant in Edinburgh (1680), he adds a query to the graphic phrase in his author, "lowged like twa skats"(?). Singular that a Scotsman should have any difficulty in reading this as ears like two skates. He also confounds staigs (colts) with stags. So experienced an editor and so loyal a Scot as the late Dr. Grosart occasionally went far astray in his glosses. Here are some examples from his edition of Alexander Wilson, one of the many poetical lights of Paisley. In one of those severe satires on the Paisley corks (small employers) of his day which soon made the town too hot for him, he has occasion to say,—

"Our Hollander
Kens better ways o' workin,
For Jock and him has aft a spraul,
Wha'll bring the biggest dark in."

This peculiar spelling of the quite familiar darg tempts to the gloss, "day's work (before dark)." Surely a comical attempt to throw light on the origin of the word! In a humorous elegy on a tailor, Wilson says,—

"Wi' yowlin clinch aul' Jennock ran,
Wi' sa'r like ony brock."

No one who knew what a brock is could read this as serve instead of savour, to say nothing of its defiance of grammar. The very word is in the Buchan dialect: "He got a sawr (disgust) wi' that, and geed awa'" (Gregor). Further on we have,—

"As soon's she reekt (reached, Gar. reichen) the sooty beild,
Whare labrod he sat cockin,
'Come doon,' she cried, 'ye lump o' eild.'"

Incredible to relate, labrod, the "harmless but necessary" implement by which the tailor is here facetiously described ​is glossed, "mill-stream at work." The "Abbotsford Series of the Scottish Poets" has the merit of being a commendable attempt to popularise the neglected study of our old literature, not without serious faults of execution, however. From the last, and what ought to have been the easiest, of the volumes, "Scottish Poetry of the Eighteenth Century," I select a few points out of much that "comes in questionable shape." In Alexander Watson's droll story of the "wee wifikie comin' frae the fair" the line "Somebody has been felling me" is given thus without note of explanation, and the reader is left to imagine the pedlar knocking her about like a football, so that she must have been almost comatose. Clearly the poor body is simply saying in her best Aberdeen accent, " Somebody has been feelin me"—that is, making a fool of me, as the narrative graphically bears out. Here is a verse from Skinner's epistle to Burns that aptly illustrates this distinctively Aberdeenshire vocalisation,—

"Now after a' hae me exqueesed
For wissing nae to be refeesed,
I dinna covet to be reezed (lauded)
For this feel lilt:
But feel or wyce, gin ye be pleased
Ye're welcome till't."

As a specimen of Fergusson, again, we have the "Leith Races," where the poet winds up his humorous narration with,—

"The races owre, they hale the dules
Wi' drink o' a' kinkind."

Here we encounter the extraordinary gloss, heal the pains. The editor, misreading hale, recalls quite ineptly the common ballad word, dule (Fr. deuil), and misses entirely the point of Fergusson's witty metaphor. This is an example of the dangers of mere book knowledge, yet Allan Ramsay uses the very phrase in question. Any Scottish schoolboy ought to know what it is to hale the dules, or dulls as he terms it. Few Scotsmen will admit that Burns is ever obscure to them. They "smile and smile" with a knowing look as most of us do when we listen to a longish Latin quotation or a drawing-room song. In the Abbotsford Series the editor very properly includes "Hallowe'en" and "Tam o' Shanter," and here we have ​examples of the climax of absurd glossing sufficient to make "the judicious grieve, the unskilful laugh." Near the close of the former poem we read,—

"And ay a rantin kirn we gat,
And just on Hallowe'en
It fell that nicht."

We are here told that a rantin kirn is a "churning in which the butter does not gather rightly." If any unhappy Southron should have difficulty in visualising a churn ranting, he must feel grateful to the editor. I had a teacher once of the old, and much over-lauded, school whose favourite compliment to the troublesome dullard, among a variety, was kirn-stick. It was no "ranting-kirn" for him. In reality the poet was referring to the revelry of the harvest-home under its usual designation of the kirn. Again, in "Tam o' Shanter," occur the hard lines,—

"Rigwoodie hags wad spean a foal,
Louping and flinging on a crummock."

The two obscure words here are thus glossed—rigwoodie, straddling; and crummock, cow with crooked horns. Alas! "stands Scotland where it did?" Why hags, above all people, should have occasion to straddle, and why in that condition they should be chosen to spean foals, are known only to the editor. To discover what a rigwoodie is he should try the alternative which old Polonius was ready to face—"keep a farm and carters." But these wonderful hags not only straddle when speaning foals, but loup and fling on a cow with crooked horns. Poor Crummie has cruelly tossed the editor here. Even Burns shows us that crummock need not always be appropriated to a cow. It was an obscure Ayrshire poet who sang in his "Carriek for a Man,"—

"When auld Robin Bruce
Lived at Turnberry House,
He was the prince o' the people,
The frien' o' the Ian'.
At the stream o' auld bannocks (Bannockburn)
There was crackin' o' crummocks.
It was a hard tulzie,
Lang focht han' to han'."

​It must surely be the familiarity that breeds contempt which tolerates an inexact and feeble standard of scholarship where the folk-speech is concerned. There is a better spirit abroad, not only in America, but in Germany, France, and Denmark. I need only mention here such names as Jusserand, Angellier, Ten Brink, Schippert. A favourite thesis for a German doctorate is some obscure corner of Scottish literature. Before me is a learned and exhaustive academical dissertation on the Scoto-English dialect, publicly defended before the Philosophical Faculty of Lund on 5th March 1862. Another and more recent is a curious philological analysis of verbal and nominal inflexions in Burns. Yet in our educational systems there is no place for such distinctively national studies.
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In Decadence
Studies in Lowland Scots (1909)
by James Colville
Field Philology
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3395484Studies in Lowland Scots — Field Philology1909James Colville
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III.—Field Philology

1. Village Life in Fifeshire

The vernacular is, properly speaking, the language of the verna or "household slave." In all old societies the ruling and propertied class entrusted the infant to a foster-parent, and the work of the household to a crowd of famuli, and in both cases these were drawn from the lower and dialect-using classes. All, even moderately civilised, peoples were, and in a sense are still, bi-lingual. The "clerk and the lewed man" are equally required for the business of life. From the dawn of literature it must have been so. Whenever expression is consciously artistic it becomes selective and creative. The first to use verbal embroidery must have been the first stylist. One of the many indirect effects of printing has been to emphasise and fix this duality. The schoolboy, a keen observer of character, like the natural man, has a just horror of "the fellow that speaks like a book." His own diction is never recklessly original, being largely a medley of coterie words, as "horrid," "awful," "cheeky," "beastly," caddish," "dashed mean," with an occasional "jolly" or "bally." More striking is the effect of hearing the average man, schoolboy, or even preacher read aloud. At once all naturalness is lost in a monotonous, high-pitched sing-song. To these the art of using book language is an acquired taste, and retains scare a feature of that tongue which gives to social intercourse its perennial charm.

Macaulay argued that as civilisation increases poetry declines. It would be easier to maintain that as reading and education spread, a true vernacular must gradually disappear. It loses historic continuity, and becomes a mixture of malapropisms and slang. Fashion, worst of all, taboos it as vulgar. Like divination, and poor relations, and last season's millinery, it keeps in the background. Mrs. Calderwood, a grand lady of the old ​school, travelling in Holland in 1758, describes to a friend a visit to a synagogue, where the priest officiated with a harn clout on his head. No lady would nowadays adopt such a style, even if she could understand it. And what university reformer would express himself as Lord Cockburn did, who observed that "when a professor grew doited he became immortal"? Vulgar is, after all, but a relative term, and the essence of vulgarity lies in its associations. Now all modern associations are against the vernacular. In the absence, then, of a historic vernacular how is the plain person to express himself? The style is the man, and the modern man is nothing if not stylish. He assumes the virtues of his better-class neighbour, but wears them with a difference. The suburban young lady, who is reported to have commented on the beshed condition of Jeck's het, disguised her true self in what she took to be the accent of fashion, but her choice of words betrayed her. Not so the street boy when he asked the shopman for "a happ'ny worth o' baasht plooms." His style was in perfect keeping with his pretensions. Sometimes the plain person will make quite a praiseworthy attempt to swim out of his depth in expression as when a workman, reporting on some choked drain pipes he had been asked to lift, explained to his young master that "Thae pipes wuz clean sedimateesed."

To the imperialistic gaze of the average Englishman all Scots speak alike, and all are equally unintelligible to him. He cannot see how anyone should fail to understand him. If observant, however, he would find that even at home environment differentiates speech as much as plant or animal growth. In Old Scotland intercourse was limited, and racial or imitative peculiarities became persistent. To say nothing of the Gaelic and the Norse districts, one could not travel over many counties without discovering differences by ear alone. A traveller of the seventeenth century notes the scolding pipe of the Aberdonian and the monotonous click-clack of the Lowlander. He has the sense to see that the good English tone of the Highland districts is not confined to Inverness, but is really that of a language grammatically taught and never heedlessly employed. Their very choice of words has a literary flavour, like Baboo English.

​Burt notes the peculiarities of that Edinburgh dialect, which, despite Parliament House and an earnest determination to be as English as possible, still persists. The waiter offered him for supper "a duke," "a fool," or "a meer-fool." In Fife this "duke" would be "juck"—a modification heard also in the verb, as in the proverbial caution, "Jook and let the jaw gae by." the broad a of the Lothians, especially if near a liquid, is as decided a shibboleth as the slurring of t wherever possible betrays an early familiarity with the "Sautmarket" of Glasgow. The long-drawn drawl, "Cauff for beds!" used to be familiar in the Canongate of Edinburgh; and in the Cowgate, which the Modern Athenian forgets to call the "Coogate," for an older "Soo'gate" (Southgate), they still "baur the dore," "hing up the umber-ellie," or take "a dook at Joapie." Glasgow equally ignores historic continuity with its "Bew-kannan" Street. In its early days it was "B'whannan" and, later, "B'kannan" Street. The native loves to leave the convenience of the Broomielaw "wanst a week a' least, on Se'erday afternoon." The Borderer, again, has his shibboleth, the burr which comes out when Ridley speaks of his friend Rutherford at Chollerford or Chirnside. He of Kelso, if a clegyman, preaches about "radamption." The same vowel is heard in the local name of the town, "Kal-so," or the neighbouring Salkirk. Here local pronunciation of the place-name is, as usual, correct. The ancient seal of Kelso bears the inscription, "Sigillum Monasterii de Calco"—referring to a height near which, in olden times, was a "clak-heugh," or quarry. The Galloway man has long known the Irish "trogger," so if you ask your way of him he directs you to a short cut "farder on" by a "footpad," as "neerder" than the highroad. All round the Fife coast you hear the long, high-pitched drawl of someone battling with the east wind. The St. Andrews man goes into the "ceetie," or down to the "herr-burr." In rural districts the Fifer says, "Whaur arr ye gaun, maan?" in ore rotundo tones that fitly accompany heavily-laden heels crushing clods at leisure. Between the Tay and Moray Firths we hear nothing but thin vowels and piping tones. The distinctive feature is the f sound of initial wh. Here we are among an alert, canny folk, of keen intelligence, whether we spend a day in prosaic Dundee among ​"mill-fuds" and "corks," or an "'ouk" in rural Garioch with "gudges" and "getts."

These dialects, fast giving place, the school inspectors tell us, to a mongrel, characterless medley, have suffered the neglect that overtakes the familiar. Local story-tellers and versifiers have used them as literature of a kind, but they have received no study worthy of the name. Jamieson—storehouse of much that is valuable—is here very defective. From Burns we do not receive much aid. He has given a local character to a good deal that passes for Ayrshire simply because he has used it, but, in his vernacular at least, he was not "the singer of a parish." We know too little of the sources of his vocabulary. Where his vernacular is not common to comparatively modern Scotland—that is to say, is but English with a provincial look about it—its source is the poet's reading in Ramsay, Fergusson, Hamilton, and hte treasures of ballads and popular verse. He is so little vernacular as never to use the characteristic relative "'at"—witness "Scots wha hae" for "Scots 'at hes," or such a common colloquialism as "div" and "divna."

If we turn from the diction of dialect to the grammar and accent we have nothing to guide us but Dr. J. A. H. Murray's monograph on the dialects of the South of Scotland. There is, indeed, no work on the phonetics of dialects in the United Kingdom. And all is passing away of the old and only the new and the vulgar remains. Yet what a wealth of national character, social customs, folk-lore, lies in dialect! It represents the operation of individual enterprise in language, rapidly being crushed out by the Juggernaut of collective trading through literature and education. To gather up what remains is not the work of one, but of hundreds. Germany devotes imperial funds and the marvellous philological instincts of an academic people to such work, and even little Denmark has kept a student for months in the Fair Isle observing and collecting.

The sturdy survival of a vigorous vernacular, alongside of a language of books and of education, must go far to account for the fact that Scotland's contribution to English literature has been, both in quality and quantity, out of all proportion to her size and position. Her authors have never needed to strain after such artificialities as characterise the Renascence period, ​or the efforts of educated Hindoos in our own day. Thus it is that men so markedly in touch with the vernacular as Burns and Carlyle, stand out prominently among all English writers for the actuality of their vision, the mingled virility and veracity of their style. For a healthy vernacular is constantly evolving itself under the natural influences of dialect growth. The effect of education on the literary speech is to develop expression by the hard and fast rules of imitation, by "the days and nights devoted to Addison" and his kind. But a vernacular lends itself naturally to local environment in the selection of words, the meaning put into them, the idioms, the tones of voice, the vowel system, and all that gives to style its colour and individuality. Scotland, from the archaic character of its development, from the fact that a vigorous race found its native tongue early shouldered out of general literature, presents a specially rich field for the study of dialectic growth.

The intelligent observer cannot fail to be struck with the substantial resemblance that runs through the main stock of vocables in vernacular use over the Lowlands, combined with well-marked difference of tone and accent. This is a field of study that one might say has never been worked. To show something alike of its variety and extent, let me present gleanings from two such far-sundered districts as Campbeltown and East Fife. As is well known, the Argyle family not only gave its name to the thriving burgh of Kintyre, but transferred in making it a fresh population from Ayrshire, in thorough sympathy with its pronounced Covenanting proclivities. The result has been to produce such a curious blend of Celtic and Saxon as we find in the following specimen, the phrases of which, though now almost extinct, were in common use in Campbeltown in the earlier part of last century:—

Flory Loynachan (Flora Lonie, as a diminutive.)

A most pathetic ballad, the composition of Dougie Macilreavie, of Corbett's Close, in the Bolgam Street, Campbeltown. Inscribed, with affection regards, to the members of the Kintyre Literary Association, as an illustration of ​the common conversational idiom of the dear old town half a century ago.

O, it buitie be an ogly thing
That mougres thus o'er me,
For I scrabed at mysel' thestreen,
And could not bab an e'e.
My heart is a' to muilins minched,
Brye, smuirach, daps, and gum,
I'm a poor cruicbach, spalyin' scrae,
My horts have struck me dumb.

Dear Flory Loynachan, if thou
Thro' Saana's soun' wert toss'd.
And rouchled like a shougie-shoo.
In a veshal with one most;
Though the nicht were makan' for a roil,
Tho' ralliach were the sea.
Though scorlins warpled my thowl pins.
My shallop would reach thee.

Gloss by a Native of Campbeltown.

  • Buitie, must be. Sc. bude, behoved.
  • Mougres, creeps over.
  • Scrabed, scratched. Celt, sgrob, a scratch, furrow. Cognate Lat. scribo, I write. Eng. scrape.
  • Bab, close, Ayrsh.
  • Muilins, bread crumbs; minched, Go. mins = small.
  • Brye, pounded sandstone. Cf. briz, bruise, bray, snaw-bree.
  • Smuirach, very small coal. Sc. and Celt. cf. smoor, smore, smother.
  • Daps, for dabs, small flounders.
  • Gum, coal dust. Fifesh. coom.
  • Cruichach, crooked and bent. Cf. cruck, crook.
  • Spalyin' flat-footed, splay.
  • Scrae, skinny fellow, a shrivelled old shoe. In the Boer "Tarn o' Shanter " the witches are skraal, lean.
  • Horts, hurts.
  • Soun=sound, or Strait of Sanna.
  • Rouchled, tossed about. Cf. roch, rough.
  • Shougie-shoo, cf. Ger. Sheuchel-stuhl, a rocking-chair.
  • Ralliach, slightly stormy.
​

Thou'rt not a hochlan scleurach, dear,
As many trooshlach be;
Nor I a claty skybal, thus
To sclaffer after thee;
Yet haing the meishachan, where first
I felt love's mainglin' smart,
And haing the boosach dyvour too.
Who spoong'd from me thine heart!

O! rhane a Yolus Cronie—quick—
Across this rumpled brain!
Bring hickery-pickery—bring wallink,
Droshachs, to sooth my pain!
Fire water—fire a spoucher full—
These frythan stouns to stay!
For like a sparrow's scaldachan
I'm gosping night and day!

  • Scorlins, slimy, cord-like seaweed.
  • Thowl pins=rowlocks.
  • Hochlan, slack in dress, walking clumsily. Cf. hobble.
  • Scleurach, untidy in dress and gait. Celt, sgliurach, slut, gossip, young sea-gull.
  • Trooshlach, worthless thing. Cf. trash.
  • Claty, dirty. Sc. clarty.
  • Skybal, worthless fellow. Celt, gioball, chap, odd fellow. Banffsh. Glossary—Skypal, not having a sufficiency, e.g. "A'll be some skypal o' seed corn."
  • Sclaffer, go slipshod, to sclaff.
  • Haing, a small swear. Hang.
  • Meishachan, subscription dance. Cf. minsh, a change-house.
  • Mainglin', crushing, mangling.
  • Boosach, drinking, boozing.
  • Dyvour, poor looking individual. Lat. debtor. Fr. devoir.
  • Sponged, stole deceitfully.
  • Rhane, rhyme. Orcadian reen, to roar vehemently; exclusively of a pig in distress: reening, squeaking as a pig.
  • Yolus Cronie, a charm (in words). Celt, eolas, knowledge, eoisle, a charm.
  • Rumpled, confused.
  • Hickery-pickery, tonic bitters, Ἱερός, sacred. πικίς, a bitter herb. See Chamb. Encyc., Art. "Hiera Picra."
  • Wallink, brooklime speedwell.
  • Droshachs, doctors' drugs.
​

Were I the laird of Achnaglach,
  Or Kilmanshenachan fair,
Crockstaplemore, Kilwheepnach,
  Foechag, or Ballochgair;
Did I inherit Tuyinroech,
  Drumgary, or Ballochantee,
Creishlach, or Coeran—daing the bit
  I'd fauchat them for thee!

O, the Clabbydhu, it loves the Trinch,
    The Crouban, the quay-neb,
While the Anachan and Brollochan,
    They love the Mussel-ebb.
The Muirachbann the Dorling loves,
    And the Gleshan, and Guildee,
They love to plouder through the loch;
    But, Flory, I love thee!

    Spoucher, wooden ladle for baling a boat. Sc. spud, spade. Cf. Celt.     spuidgear, a baling ladle.
    Frythan, cook in a frying-pan.
    Stouns, sharp pains. Cf. a stoond o' love.
    Scaldachan, unfeathered nestlings. Norse and Sc. scalled, bald.
    Gosping, gasping
    Daing, a small swear.
    Fauchat, to throw up a thing. Cf. feech! expressing disgust.
    Clabbydhu, black bivalve, a large mussel still quite faruiliar on the lower Clyde estuary. Dhu is the Gael. black.
    Crouban, a crab, with suffixed article (an): neb, end, nose.
    Anachan, bivalve used for bait.
    Brollochan, similar, with a little difference in shape.
    Muirachbann, white shellfish got near the ebh. Celt. maorach, a shell- fish, and baan, fair.
    Dorling, line of shore joining isle to mainland. Celt. doirling, isthnius, beach.
    Gleshan, coal fish.
    Guildee, young of the saithe.
    Plouder, plouter, plunge.

For the Celtic of this gloss I have to thank Mr. Alexander Macbain, M.A., author of "An Etymological Dictionary of the Gaelic Language" (Inverness, 1896); and the verses, a cutting from a local newspaper, I owe to my friend, the late Mr. Matthew Dunlop, of Dunlop Brothers, Bothwell Street, Glasgow.

​The Great Exhibition and the horrors and heroisms of Sebastopol must mark, to those of us who are now middle-aged, the first note from the external world that came to disturb the placidity of what seems now an idyllic youth, spent in the far back fifties in many a Sleepy Hollow with which the bicycle is now enabling us to renew a pleasant acquaintance. It must have been then when such pen-artists as Mr. Barrie and "Ian Maclaren" were "making themselves." The demands of fiction as "the warp and weft" of human passion lie outwith my present quest, which is indeed a much less ambitious task, no other than the attempt to recall the local colour of the village story, the manners and customs of the rustic mind as revealed in its vernacular, and especially the amusements of youth "when all such sports could please." Like the cognate attempt at reminiscence in the "Deserted Village," the task has its limitations as a genuine bit of realism. Most dealings of this kind with rustic life and its vernacular have a tendency to give a false impression to the superficial reader. Firstly, the very shallow suggestion of vulgarity as inherent in the vernacular has to be discounted. Further, such vernacular is really often more old-fashioned than it seems. Much of Burns, not in diction alone but in matter, was half-consciously archaic in his day, and fully intelligible only to the old people whose sympathies with a familiar past he aroused. If we are to believe his biographer, Currie, Burns himself used but little of what now passes for the dialect of the "Kailyard." Of course the accent remained in his case as in that of Scott and Carlyle, though such an unfriendly critic as Samuel Johnson admits that even that may be got rid of "wi' a fecht." "There can be no doubt that Scotsmen may attain to a perfect English pronunciation if they will. We find how near they come to it" [nearer in his day than now, however, for English is more changed relatively than Scots]; "and certainly a man who conquers nineteen parts of the Scottish accent may conquer the twentieth." Pity companies that tour in Scots plays could not act up to Johnson's conviction, and come enough the ultra-Tweed accent to spare us Rab Dow ("The Little Minister") in a tone that rhymes to "now," instead of near ​the genuine Rob Dow (pronounced Doo) as the reader of Burns knows,—

"But, as I'm sayin, please step to Dow's,
An' taste sic gear as Johnny brews,
Till some bit callan brings me news
That you are there,
An' if we dinna bae a bouse
I'se ne'er drink mair."

Epistle to John Kennedy.

They would surely never speak of Roderick Dhu in such a tone, though it is substantially the same name. The Scots long vowel, as in Rob, always presents difficulties to the Southron. Thus the Englishman thinks his absurd "Rabbie" Burns quite to the manner born. A somewhat similar misrendering of Scottish vernacular is the impossible "Babbie" of the "Little Minister." Barbara is familiarised as Baubie. The elided r always lengthens a contiguous vowel.

Let me endeavour in the following sketch to visualise a Fifeshire village at a time when its folk were still bi-lingual, when they had not long had to part with their handlooms, to welcome the iron horse, and to forget the turmoil of the Disruption. The scene is a kirk toon, red-tiled like the East Coast villages, and straggling in one street up the rough ascent called the Paith, and over the school hill, to disappear into the open country round one side of the churchyard. Where the bairns romped between lessons, pre-historic villagers had laid their dead, only to be gradually exhumed in toothless chafts and crumbling harn-pans (skulls), that, from time to time, revealed themselves in the cosy nooks among the stone coffins, where the lassies played at selling sugar and tea with the crisp, bony soil. On the crest of the broad knowe stood a newer God's-acre, but even it so old that the accumulated soil concealed the sculptured base of the thirteenth century tower, beloved of artists and architects. Those Goths, the parish heritors, left the unique apse to the betheral (sexton) for his shools and coffin-trams, and obliterated its exquisite Norman arch with a lath and plaster partition so as to complete the eastern end of ​their own barn-like structure, a hideous post-Reformation Church. The back walls of the houses, thriftily built hard against the abodes of the dead, had their window-boles looking out on these silent neighbours through a screen of nettles, dockens, apple-reengie, and heather-reenge, as the fragrant southern-wood and showy hydrangea were called. To eastward the kirk hill dropped abruptly, to be imperceptibly lost in a long reach towards the open sea, across a wilderness of bent and sward, of heather and whin and broom, till it ended amid miles of golden sand, where the swish of the white crests as they broke mingled with the moan of the bar when the turn of the ebb brought in the rush of billowy foam to hide the mussel scaups and lagoons, dear to the flounder and the heron, the mussel-picker and the whaup (Oyster-catcher and Greater Curlew).

To westward the school hill sank to the trough of a wide valley which drained to nowhere in particular, but of old its countless lochans and forest of seggs and reeds must have been a paradise to the falconer and fowler. Tradition, indeed, made of it a royal forest in the palmy days of Falkland Palace. It was the favourite hawking ground and sporting estate of James V. (see "Exchequer Accounts," vol. vii.). How Petlethy, as it is called in the "Accounts," fell into the Crown is explained by an obscure episode of 1537, in which year Lady Glamis or Strathmore, of the hated Douglas line, was accused of plotting the King's death by poison and burned at the stake on the Castle hill of Edinburgh. Her son, a lad of sixteen, was left in prison and the estates forfeited, of which Petlethy formed a part. Here there was a fine old castle, built by the Mowbrays. The "Accounts" (1539-40) show frequent charges for household stuff carried between St. Andrews and Petlethy or Glamis by the "ferry of Dundee." After the death of the King, Glamis was restored to liberty and his estates. More precise historic links were few. Archbishop Sharp regularly journeyed by the kirk toon on his way to and from his rural retreat at Scotscraig, overlooking the estuary of the Tay, and that dear lover of a bishop, the great Samuel, trundled gravely past the old church in his progress northwards with the admiring Boswell. Out of the wilderness of marsh over against the kirk hill rose an artificial mound, on which stood for ​centuries a stronghold of the Earls of Strathmore. The last laird, like the other impecunious but very faintly Jacobite Fife ones, went out in "The Fifteen," and the forfeited estate fell as a realisable asset to the Yorks Building Company, which tore down the venerable pile, noted for the painted ceiling of its hall, to make cow byres. The quaint sun-dial of the castle is now at Glamis. Nothing remains but two rows of yews, terror, as a poison, to the farmer and his stirks, and a portion of the ditch that once drained the moat. Its name, the Water-gate-aillie (alley), suggested the fact that here had been a raised causeway that communicated with the kirk toon across the swampy hollow. This sluggish ditch was a favourite haunt of tadpoles, the "gellies " of the boys. This was also the name for the sliddery leech. A Falkland man was using a leech for swollen tonsils, when suddenly a neighbour woman looking on exclaimed, "Goavy-dick! he's swallowed the gelly." In time the estate was bought by a "nabob," a Scot who had made a fortune in the East at a time when, as Lord Rosebery neatly puts it, the all-powerful Henry Dundas was busy "Scotticising India and Orientalising Scotland." The improving laird ran a deep-cut canal from end to end of the marshy bottom, turning it into fields of the richest loam.

From the foot of the Paith or steep ascent to the kirk hill the village street was continued across the drained valley by a newer line, where the feuars reared their trim cots on the edge of the highroad in the hideous fashion of the orthodox Scottish village. There they plied the shuttle and reeled the pirns in sweet content in the pre-Malthusian days, when a lying-in brought a welcome bread-winner,—

"The weaver said unto his son,
The day 'at he was born,
'Blessins on yer curly pow!
Ye'll rin for pirns the morn.'"

The brisk times of the great French war, when Osnaburgs kept all hands busy, were followed at a long interval by two disturbing elements. A great railway tore its ruthless track across the smiling hollow, and buried its placid, canal-like stream deep down in a gloomy condie (conduit), the home of ​eels and puddocks and drowned kittlens. The old-fashioned gardens, with their brier, elder, and rizzar (currant) bushes, their artless clumps of bachelor's buttons, gardener's gairtens, dusty miller (auricula), balm, spinks, apple-reengie, speengie (peony) roses, spearmint, and lily-oak (lilac), gave place to coal bings (Fife knew not coal-rees) and lyes for trucking tawties and nowt. A still greater upheaval in the moral world was the new broom of Dissent, with its out-crop of unrest and bad blood. Down at the lower end of the village rose a rival subscription school, where a learned unfortunate, some licentiate under a cloud, starved on £10 a year, school pence and non-Intrusion principles. His successor, a man of many secular activities in spite of a lame leg, came to the village with this ambiguous recommendation: "The character of Mr. A——— B——— is well known in this parish." Near this nursery of Dissent a barn-like Free Church opened the door of its gavel-end on the high road to welcome the swarm from the Erastian hive. The tailor's wife eagerly took the new road, coveting the eldership for her man. Discussing church politics amid a circle of her "cummers," she stoutly maintained that the days of auld Babylon on the school hill were numbered, assuring them that "ye min gang doon the toon if ye waant to hae yer sowl saved." A local variant of a saying, conceived in a similar spirit, credited a Dissenter with the remark, àpropos of the future happiness of a parishioner lately deceased, "I hae my doots; ye see she didna gang to oor meetin' at Lucklaw Hill."

Those were the days, consule Planco, of sunshine and gladness, when the worry of the great world was far remote. There were no big dailies then, only a threepenny bi-weekly, and the one copy that came, franked by its stamp, went round its circle of readers in turn. The circulation was managed by the Sergeant, a veteran of the Kaffir wars, and a striking contrast to Sandy Awrnot, a battered, one-armed wreck from Chilianwallah and Sobraon, who had nothing more interesting about him than a rusty blue swallow-tail coat with brass buttons, a passion for snuff and the speediest liquidation of his pension. The Sergeant was intelligent and interesting, as when he told a thrilling tale of the wily Kaffir crawling up to assegai the sentry at his lonely post by the laager, amid the stillness of the ​"veldt" and 'neath the passionless gaze of the Southern Cross. His thick guttural tones, as if he spoke with a stone in his throat, heightened the effect. He was indeed a gentleman, tall, straight, and broad shouldered, with bronzed, clean-shaven face, broad leather stock for collar, striped blue-and-white shirt with pearl buttons, blue fatigue jacket with brass buttons, and corduroys of the pattern known then as California, a name due to the late outbreak of "yellow fever" on the Pacific coast. He was a bachelor and lodged with the tailor, whose long, ill-girt figure had got for him, from some wit in the village, the nickname "Deuteronomy." The Sergeant mainly employed himself in digging up barrowloads of fir-tree roots, highly resinous, and excellent for kindling or eeldin, as the old folk called it. Nor should I forget the station-master, cheery, good-natured, obliging. As a man of many freits and fancies he was dear to the natural boy. Hens, bees, pigs, dogs, goats, and a donkey in turn ruled his energies. A stranger, making inquiries at a native, was referred to my friend as "the omnifeeshint man in the place."

Oh! those glorious days in that wood where the Sergeant's long-drawn pech accentuated the mattock's every blow. Heavenly were the sloping glades where one beaked (basked) in the sunshine among bracken and blaeberries and bell-heather, while whin and broom pods plunkt their peas on ruddy cheeks, and the fir-cones, known only as "taps," that were scattered around, turned out their recesses to the birsling sun, and the foggie-toddlers (yellow humble bee) hirpled about over the warm turf, among golacks (beetles) and clip-sheers (ear-wigs). The hum of bees and the chorus of birds mingled overhead in the sough of a languid breeze, and everything made for righteousness but the buzzing flies, the nagging midges, and the quiet but thorough prod of the glegs (gadfly). The lotus was too much in the air to tempt one to risk a joabing (jagging) by prying into the whin-buss for the mouse hole entrance to the rannies' (wren's) nest, to sclim the branchless stem of the fir for the keelie's (sparrow-hawk's) eyrie, or even to disturb the sugar industry by cutting into the bark of the birches to suck the sweet sap that seapt out on the sunny side. How poor and imperfect is "trickle out" beside its equivalent seap! An ​Aberdeen professor of the old school used to tell a slow student to keep a "gleg" ear, and just let his prelections "seap" in. The Orcadian sab means to saturate. Pieces were eaten to the last crust, and pouches "reipet" for mülins (crumbs), while the shady banks of the ditches were searched for soorocks (sorrel), and the dank spots in the woods for Caliban's earth-nuts, or lucy-awrnits, as they were called. For botanising was pursued with the practical purpose of the primitive man, and spoils secured for use or pleasure. Pet rabbits, our mappies, claimed the sookies (clover blooms) and the grundie-swallie, for groundsel was known by its Anglo-Saxon name of "grunde-swyligie," or "grunde-swilie" (what swells over the ground). "Little goodje" (sun spurge) was plucked for its astringent, milky juice, infallible against warts, while the benty dunes were searched for the roots which passed for the savoury liquorice (Common Rest-Harrow). The elder furnished a boon-tree gun or tow-gun, the elm a whistle, the hemlock a spoot-gun, while the brown, withered leaves of the tussilago or colt's-foot—"dishie-logie" it was called—were eagerly utilised as a substitute for tobacco, and smoked, "with diffeeculty," in a "partan's tae." When the girls played at shops the seed-capsules of the docken passed for sugar and tea, while the sweeties were the "nirled" catkins of the alder, since they resembled the genuine "curly-andrew," or sugared coriander seed. More serious was the midday divination with that humble weed, the rib-wort. When the leaf was broken off the exposed ribs were held to forecast the number of pawmies to be faced in the afternoon. The long seed-tipped stalk of this plantain, the "curly-doddy," furnished a weapon for mimic cuts and slashes—in the effort to break off each his opponent's stalk. More formidable sword-play was done with a kail-runt or a clump of the malodorous weebie, as the yellow and ever-assertive rag-wort was called. The name "weebie," seemed to have been strictly local. In the north-east the plant is the "stinkin Elshender." Of old it was called bun-weed. Thus in Holland's "Buke of the Howlat" (circa 1450) the Jay as the Juggler could carry the cup from the king's table, "syn leve in the sted hot a blak bun-wed." The name is still used all over Ulster. Can it be that "weebie" is just "bunwede" inverted? Such a careful philologist as M. Amours, in editing Holland ​(Alliterative Poems, Sc. Text Soc.), explains "bun" in his author's "bunwed" as M.E. for the long hollow stem of some plants. It is therefore akin to "bone" (Ger. Bein), and woodbine. This syllable certainly accounts for the Fife name for the elder, the boon-tree, a Northumbrian term also, which the "English Dialect Dictionary," not very wisely, explains as the "sacred or lucky tree." A dialect variant is boor-tree, probably bore-tree, as if from its hollow stem. Generally it served as a fence round the old kail-yards, which gives a sort of colour to this suggestion. It was not alone a proof against evil spirits, but the cows refused to touch it. The distribution of this term "bun" or "boon"—Fife, Northumberland, Ulster—well illustrates the vagaries of dialect. It is represented in German as well as English dialects—in the latter always in the sense of a hollow stem, as of flax or hemp or any umbelliferous plant. It is also in Celtic, as "bun," a stock, trunk; "bun-ach," coarse tow. Macbain finds in the Gaelic "bun-tata" (potato) a piece of folk-etymology suggested by applying this descriptive term to the dried stems of the plant. In Irish the ragwort is rogaim, sneeze-wort, from rag, stiff, unwilling, borrowed from Norse hrak, wretched.

The animal world was closely observed. Keen was the zest in the chase of a whittret (weasel) or the smeekin of a wasp's bike. These were the only noxious beasts known. Among birds, the yellow yite (Emberiza citronella) met with scant favour, relic of a medieval tradition that its yellow robe suggested the hated Jew, probably Judas Iscariot himself. In the cabbage rows a pit-fall (a "faw," German "Falle") was set for him. This word faw as a mouse-trap is of very limited range in dialect. In Orcadian we have moosfa', a mouse-trap, Norse mus-föll. When snow covered the ground the barn "wecht" or close sieve was the favourite snare.

There was no thought of egg-collecting. The herried spoils were merely set up on a dyke or stonewall as a mark in the sport called "prappin." A cushie's (wood-pigeon's) nest, or still better a paitrick's (partridge), was prized. Sunny hours were spent out on the moors in search of "dunter's" (eider duck) or "strokannet's" (burrow duck) eggs, hid away in rabbit holes. I can find no trace of either of these terms elsewhere except ​about the head of the Solway, where the boys know the strokannet. This kannet is a form of gannet, while stroh probably refers to its variegated plumage. Eerie it was to follow the "teuchat" (lapwing) as it wailed out, in tumbling circles round the intruder, "Pease-weet, pease-weet, herry my nest and gar me greet!" the boy's call to the wailing spirit on the wing. Rarely did success follow the rearing of small captives. The young "gorbets" (callow brood) were fed on crowdie till their "gaebies" (crops) if not their nebs, cried "Hold! enough!" Sparrows or "spyugs" were the favourite innocents for such experiments, but we never were Herods, such as the Border herd-boys with their "spung-hewet" or spung-taed (toad) pranks, which consisted in placing a frog or toad or young bird on one end of a stick balanced on a stone, then striking the other end smartly, so as to send the victim high up into the air, to fall neatly cleft in two. Spung, as spang (Norse spong, to stride), was our familiar form of span in playing at bools (marbles). Some of the old herd-boys' sports were kept alive, however, such as the flauchter-spade and the divot-fecht. We still find boys in spring-time cutting out bits of turf to throw at one another, quite unconscious of the origin of the sport in a long-obsolete industry. The herds in rival parishes or "lands" used to have regular pitched battles. The word "flauchter-spade" as a game would seem to be peculiarly local. It consisted in one boy lying on his back, while another stood on the out-stretched palms and leant on the feet of the first boy, held up to him for the purpose. The game was to see which pair of boys would make the biggest leap by the aid of their combined forces. In Lanark and in Moray the boys know the game as the sawmon-loup. The true flauchter-spade, of course, was used in the old days of bad farming to pare turf from the moor, or outfield, to make the compost known as "fulzie," and is still employed to cut large turfs to cover the potato-bings in the absence of straw. The Orcadian flaa, Icel. flaga, is a thin turf, cf. Boer, vlei.

Here let me "divagate" so far as to versify the kindly reminiscence of those days when, as a boy was left to learn "Nature knowledge" at the feet of the mighty Mother herself.

​

THE SKYLARK.

Lae-rockie—lae-rockie-lee,
Up i' the lift sae hie!
You soar frae the grun', up there to the sun,
An' hing like a mote i' my e'e,
While frae your free throat, on wastlin winds float,
The charms o' your ain melodie.

You fondly look doon whaur your wifockie broon
Sits broodin' sae mitherlie,
'Mang the bluebells an' beather, the yow an' the wether,
An' the hee bummin eidentlie.

It maks my heart wae when I think on the day,
On the bent-brown links by the sea,
How, a loon like the rest, I herried your nest,
An' brocht the bit tear to your e'e.

Owre aften sin syne I've owrestapit the line
Whaur frail mortals dauner agee,
But never I ween done ocht half sae mean
As stealin' your broon bairnies three.

But harder the heart o' the moneyed upstart,
Clay-cauld to a' true poesie,
To roast on a spit, as a denty tit-bit,
The bard o' the muirland an' lea.

Noo shake aff the stoor, the dew an' the shoor,
An' lilt your bit innocent glee,
Ye can cock up your tap or sit lown on Earth's lap,
Ye'll ne'er get a mischeef frae me.

This warl o' care still has joys to share,
'Boon a' maun your sang bear the gree,
An' it heartens to feel, i' the land o' the leal,
Your liltins aye sownin shall be.

The pleasures of the garden, the playground, and the farmyard bulked largely in the village boy's year. Delicious it was to "speel" (climb) the flat-topped garden wall, and strip the ​pleasantly-tartish "rizzars" from their pendulous stalks. The name is now little known, though Cunningham of Craigends (Scot. Hist. Soc.) tells us he bought rizzars from the garden of a Paisley change-house for 4d. Scots. This was during the Killing Time of the seventeenth century. It denotes anything growing on a branch, from Ger. "Reis," a twig. An Elizabethan street-cry was, "Cherries on the rise!" The rizzar berry is an old name for the currant. A "stake and rise" hut or "wattled cot" was a primitive but inexpensive abode. Still more attractive were the "geans" and "grozers," the latter better known in the West as "grozets," and sometimes grossarts as in James VI.'s application of a homely proverb—"When he heard of the tocher, then, by my kingly crown, he lap like a cock at a grossart." There was the usual round of games—hi-spy, smuggle the gag (never geg), tig, craw-flee. In their due season came bools, peeries, carrick, draigens (kites), girds (hoops). The Border expression "ca' a girr" was never heard. A hoop for any purpose was always a gird. The shinty term, carrick, I find to be quite local. It is only a modification of the word crook, and, like the similar Gaelic term "camanachd" (cam, crooked), properly applies to the stick used. Football and cricket were unfamiliar, so also was rounders. Nothing, therefore, was known of that interesting survival amid the wreck of old words, the "dulls" or "dools" of Allan Ramsay and Fergusson, and still in common use. Girls chose the quieter sports of merry-my-tanzie, jing-ga-ring, or the ever-entertaining palall, the "beds" of Edinburgh, and the peevor (from Fr. paveur, a pavior) of Lanarkshire. Playmates and playthings were known as playfares. The term has nothing to do with fairplay, but is from an Anglo-Saxon "gefera," a companion, the gaffer of a working squad. We have it in Beaumont and Fletcher's "Two Noble Kinsmen"—"Learn what maids have been her companions and play-feers." If "by-ordnar thrang," they were reported to be "cheef" or intimate—not so graphic as the Tweed-side "thick as dugs' heads"—but when they fell out they parted with a Parthian shot, "I'm no' freends wi' you the day." Poetical justice was gleefully noted with a "cheatery's choket you!" or "ye're weel cheap o'd," when Nemesis brought ill luck. "Fair hornie" was the euphemistic appeal for fair play. "Chaps me ​that!" was enough to secure first choice of a good thing. All enjoyed giving each other "fichils" (Gael. dialect, fachail, strife, and quite local), or challenges to difficult feats—the "brags" of Edinburgh and the "coosie" of Arbroath. Hiding in the crap-wa' or coom-ceiled recess of the hay-loft, where floor and joists meet, was much enjoyed. To be called "bairnlie," "fugie," "coordie" (the "coordie, coordie custard!" of Edinburgh), or to be sent home with a torn "daidlie" (pinafore) was justly shunned. "A carrier of clypes," dreaded in the West, was never heard, though "clippy" for pert was quite common. To settle sides in a game the lot was cast by the inevitable decision,

"Nievvi-nievvi-nik-nak,
Which hand will ye tak?
Be richt or be ye wrang,
I'll begowk you if I can."

Glorious were the June evenings, when the bairns were as happy on the green as the gowans that nestled in a sleep which their tread did not disturb! As the gloamin' from the East chased the azure day to far Western seas, the golden moths flitted over the breer-busses, the corncraik scraiched among the skellocks (wild mustard) in the haugh-land, while the bat circled overhead, easily evading the bonnets tossed up to catch it with the seductive cry, "Bat, bat, come intill my hairy hat!" But all this paled before the delights of "hairst." Eager was the look-out for the first stook as authority for demanding the vacations (Fr. vacance). Rapidly gleamed the hyucks (sickles) in sturdy hands when some forward shearer began "kempin" (Ger. "kämpfen," to contend),—

"This wicked flyte being laid at last,
Some rig now strives for to get past
The ithers, and wi' flaring haste
To show its strength;
This sets the lave a-workin' fast—
They kemp' at length."—

The Hairst Rig, 1786.

The grieve (A.S. "gerefa," reeve, officer) looked on with mingled feelings, divided between a desire for snod stubble and a ​speedy arrival at the rig-end. Sweet was the midday meal of baps and beer by a stook-side, varied by a chase for the youngsters after a scared rabbit or a hirplin' maukin (hare)! One ill-set prank I remember. The scene was a hairst rig on a Perthshire farm. The idle boy, stravaiging round, saw among the stubble some nice, plump toads (taeds he called them). Tucking one into a shearer's shawl that she had left on the sunny side of a stook, he waited till the owner came to sit down with her neighbours for her "twal oors," and enjoyed her squeal and fright as she caught sight of the "laithly beast," an expression illustrated in Grigor's laidlick, a loath (tad-pole and leech). The leadin' of the well-won thraves (stooks of twenty-four sheaves) appealed to the boy's love of horses. He took little interest in the gleaners that followed, making up their "singles" out of the scattered ears,

"O' gatherers next, unruly bands
Do spread themselves athort the lands,
And sair they grien (yearn) to try their hands
Amang the sheaves;
For which they're ordered far behind,
To mak' sic singles as they find."—

The Hairst Rig, 1786.

Winter brought its own sports. Frozen pools in the woods resounded to the clang of the "skaetchers" (skaters). Open snow-clad stretches were seamed with the sheen of slides, whereon in gleeful rows the boys careered, erect or hunker-tottie (crouching), the "coorie-hunker" of other dialects. "Faht," Grigor quotes, "wiz the auld bodie deein fin ye geed in? She wiz crulgin on her currie-hunkers at the cheek o' the cutchick." All went well till a thaw made the ice "bauch" (dull). The long evenings favoured such pranks as Tammy-reekie, Ticky-molie, and Guisin'. For the first a kail-stock was chosen, the pith within the custock extracted, and the space filled with wet tow. Then the process of smeekin some unsuspecting household through the front door key-hole went merrily on. Hallowe'en brought its supper of "stovies," "a pound of butter champit in," said champing being effected by a vigorous use of the porridge-stick, or "theel," the "theevil" of the North-east. ​There was high revelry when the pig was killed. The blood, in view of black puddings to follow, had to be switched with a bundle of twigs to remove the fibrin, and so prevent clotting. Then the carcase was plumped into scalding water, to ploat (soak), so as to admit of the scraping process. In due course followed the feast of puddings, made from the "pluck," and cracklins, the chitterlings of the English villager. The lard that was extracted was "weel-hained" under the name of swine's "saim," a bit of dialect which appears in "Troilus and Cressida"—"The proud lord that bastes his arrogance with his own seam." The metaphor anticipates the historic one, " Stew in their own gravy." Lastly there were such special aids to friendship as "clack" (cf. Ger. Klecks, a blot), or clagum, the "gundy" of Edinburgh youth, "pawrlies," and "ha'penny deevils" (gingerbread figures, arms a-kimbo, currants for eyes), each offering a more popular fate for spare bawbees than the "pirlie-pig " or nursery savings bank. Gundy is still a favourite of youth. A village rhyme runs thus,—

"Adam and Eve gaed up my sleeve
To fess me doon some gundy;
Adam and Eve cam doon my sleeve,
And said there was nane till Munday."

The farm, its ways and animals, were ever interesting to the boy, himself a stock-raiser on his own account. Knowing in the breeds of doos and rabbits, the "niffering" of the progeny or the "swauping" of the cleckin (litter), with knives and bools as buit (luckpenny), prepared him for a commercial career. The two terrors of the farmyard were the turkey and the billy-goat. The latter was treated, across the wall, to sham offers of tobacco, while the former was greeted with the execration, "Bubbly-jock, your wife's a witch, and a' your bairns are warlocks." But the boy was proudest of all of the friendship of a horse. He knew his "monk" or head-stall (confined to Fife and Aberdeen), his haims, brecham, britchen, and rigwoodie, the necessary items in the harnessing. To walk alongside when he was in the theats (traces) or to hold the reins beside the swingle-tree when he was in the plough was a coveted distinction. A ploughman, appealed to one day by a boy to let him hold the stilts, with ​the self-recommendation that the candidate "held a plough afore" (before), replied: "That's niver the wye, mannie. Ye min aye hud a ploo ahint, niver afore." The man had served with a Dundee cowfeeder or dairyman, and therefore was "gleger than usual." In the smiddy the horse was equally attractive. The "flaws," or ends broken off the shoenails when driven home, were prized to aid in joiner work. The "treviss," or framework for restive horses, quite a local use of a common term, served as a sort of gymnastic apparatus. A plain farmer, at a banquet met the waiter's frequent change of plates, to suit the development of the menu, with "Thir's nae trevisses in my stammick." One smiddy treviss (Lat. trabs, a beam) I well remember. It was a popular gymnastics apparatus for the boys. Two of us had planted the "dool" or mark for quoits in front of it. I had tried my best but failed to hit it. Unfortunately the other boy was at the moment swinging on the treviss, when the quoit (a disc of thickish slate) caught him. As he was three years my senior, and had a fiendish temper on occasion, I made off instanter. For some days I managed to evade his nursed wrath. Homewards from school one day, however, I caught a back view of him as he was proceeding down the street. I had hoped to jink him and gain the shelter of home before he turned around, but, alas! luck was against me. He turned, and—I had to pay up at compound interest.

With the cow there was acquaintance, not friendship. The old custom of taking all the cows to a common pasture under a common herd was dying out, though practised as late as the fifties. The picturesque feature of the horn-call was absent. More frequently there fell to the lot of the boy the bother of grazing crummie on "bauks" (green narrow paths between fields) for weary hours by the branks, and the terror of bringing her home "hefet" or "hovin" ("swoln with wind and the dank mist they draw"—Lycidas), the result of indiscretion among wet clover. In Orcadian ger-bick is the strip of grass between the corn-rigs in the days of small hordings. It is a compound of ger (gerss or grass) and bauk. In the stall she was secured by the "baikie," or upright post—a term applied in the North-east to the peg that secured the tether in the field, and itself but peg ​in the guise of the favourite diminutive. The open trench or "gruip" (Ger. Graben, a ditch) made the byre unsavoury. The term is common for a ditch in the fields in Ulster, in Kent, and even in the Transvaal. Arthur Young says that the roads a little way to the north of London were in his time (1780) made troublesome and even dangerous by the “grips, trenches cut across the road to keep it dry before the advent of Macadam. It has lived in popular verse, as here,—

"The muckin' o' Geordie's byre,
An' shooling the gruip sae clean,
Has aft gart me spend the night sleepless,
An' brocht the saut tears to my een."—

Herd, vol. ii. app. 53.

The calving was momentous, for on that hung the milk supply. If the cow was "yeld" (in calf but not in milk), or "foarrie" (not in calf), there was no milk, but only a poor substitute, "treacle-peerie," made of sweetened water mixed with barm (yeast) to produce a perfectly harmless ale, feebler even than penny-whaup. "Peerie" (small) is a strange survival from Norse times in the East coast. It is very common in Orkney. There the infant school is the "peerie squeel." Scott in his Life says that "Stevenson, the engineer, landing at N. Ronaldshay, was forced to rout out of bed a mannikin of a missionary whom, because he was so peerie, the Selkies suspected of being a Pecht or elf" (quoted by Tudor). The "beist," or first milk after calving, was too strong to be palatable. When the milk was drawn in the cog it was "sie'd" (sieved), laid away in "kimmins" (shallow tubs), and reamed (Ger. Rahm, cream; Cape Dutch, room) for the churn. Rarely was the sweet or unreamed milk used for drinking, a substitute being found in the skimmed or in the butter milk, known as soor-dook (cf. dough and the Sauer-teig of "Sartor Resartus"). The bappy-faced nonentity was graphically but unkindly described as "daichie" (doughy). The Edinburgh schoolboy, recognising in the Militia the ploughmen that brought the milk to town, derisively christened them "soor-dook sogers." For cheese-making the stomach of a calf was held in reserve, filled ​ with salt, and hung up over the fireplace to make "ernin" (rennet). Coagulation took place sometimes when not wanted. Lapper," to co-agulate, explains Grigor's Banffshire phrases: “The thunner hiz lappert the milk,” “The loans (lea fields) wir pleut weet, an' they a' lappert in spring fin (when) dry wither set in.”

The pig was of less interest to the boy, unless perhaps it was the wee wrig (a variant of wry) or last-born (puny, puis-né) member of the litter, and therefore less perfectly developed. His name is local. In the Gothic Gospels (Luke iii. 5), where part of the work of John the Baptist is to make the crooked paths straight, we have—“wairthith thata wraiqo du raiht-amma," lit. set the crooked or wrig to-rights. This Fifeshire form is akin to the Orcadian raaga—the same word indeed—otherwise known as the water-droger. In England he is St. Anthony's pig, in Perth and Angus the shargar (weakly, scraggy; Orcad. sharg, petulant, teasing), and in Aberdeen and Moray the carneed or cureedy. “I jist got the carneed at a wee pricie.” Grigor glosses crine, to cause to grow stunted, as, “Y've crinet yir caar (cattle) by spehnin them our seen (soon). Connected with carneed is carn, to soil, e.g. “I earned ee aa' wi' the jice” (gravy). Beginning life as a "grice,” the pig, when weaned (speaned), became a “shot," and, while thereafter in process of assuming a douce obesity, was familiarly addressed as Gus-gus ! or spoken of as Sandy Cam'l, a name widely spread over the Lowlands. The Orcadian “grici-fer” (swine fever) is the distemper that deprives swine of the use of their hind legs. I have seen many of these thrown out from a distillery into the brimming tide. The popular philosophy of proverbs took a purely material view of this worthy. The old folk capped the incongruity between pearls and swine with: “What can ye expec' o' a soo but to grumph?” The last scene of his uneventful history was the bustling one of stickin' with the gully, ploatin' in the big tub to get the hair off, scrapin' and disembowelling.

Spare hours in the busy day were given to watching the joiner, ever popular if good-natured enough to turn “peeries” (spinning tops), or the mason swinging his heavy mell (Shet. a large broad fist). Not so popular he, to judge by his derisive ​name, "dorbie." The long winter evenings were often devoted to technical education of no mean kind amid the bustle of the craftsman's shop. The handloom weaver, a comtemplative artist whose craft had by this time almost disappeared, was coaxed into sparing the ends of his warp to make strings for "draigens" (kites), or the tow from his yarn to supply shot for spoot-guns. The former was known as "thrums," the thrummy cap of the ballads, and, of course, the cognomen of Mr. Barrie's native Kirriemuir. The tailor was voted a windy buddy, much given to blawin' or boasting. Odd uses were found for his runds (selvage of cloth), and there were sly pilferings of his keelivine or pencil. The Orcadian rands is the edge of a shoe-heel: rynd is a long strip of cloth. Interesting was it to watch the hot "goose" hissing along the damp seam over the "lawbrod." A Glasgow bailie who had been familiar professionally with the flat-iron of the tailor and how he used it, diverted the Town Council by remarking that an opponent's criticism was no more to him than "a skite aff a tailor's goose." Every way more entertaining was the sutor as he beat the bend-leather on his lap-stane, drew his thread across the roset (Gael. rosead, resin), deftly birsed a fresh lingle end, or passed the gleaming elshon (awl) through his hair. In those days there was no lack of variety or interest in village industries, as yet little affected by machinery or the rush town-wards. All this is commemorated in the Fife toast,—

"Here's life to men and death to fish,
The pirn and the ploo',
Horn, corn, linen-yairn,
Tups and tarry 'oo'."

Around the ingle-neuk character was both formed and best studied. Lessons played a small part in the evening economy, for school passed for little, and the "maister" was held in no great esteem among the monotonous drudgery of "coonts" (sums) and Catechism, and the mechanical sing-song drawl called reading aloud. For the well-doing the highest praise was: "Ye'll be a man before your mother yet," while for the be-fogged bungler were reserved the choice epithets, "kirn-stick," or dunder-head, and the ever-ready "pawmy." Neither ​the Edinburgh boy's pandy (mediæval dominie's "pande palmam," stretch out your palm), nor the Saxon "loofie" of the Glasgow one, was known in Fife. Village education was at a low ebb then. Too often it was a poor choice between the antiquated stickit minister who couldn't teach and the bumptious "laddie in a jekkit" from the Normal, who knew little that was worth teaching. Not much effort was made to put any soul or meaning into what was read. A boy of those days, encountering in his text-book the lines,—

"Around the fire one wintry night
The farmer's rosy children sat,
The fagot lents its blazing light"-

and so on—had a vision of an untidy drudge "troking" about the kitchen, for such was the import of the mysterious "fagot" in the local vernacular. The kitchen was the common room of humble households. The door, secured by a sneck, opened upon a short passage, the trance, connecting the butt and the ben. Against its wall stood the trap (Ger. Treppe) or ladder leading to the garret. The wily, pawky flatterer was familiarly known as an "auld sneck-drawer." The centre of the kitchen was the well-caumed fireside, the saut-girnal in the jambs, the goodman's settle (bink) between the lowe and the crusie, and pussy bawdrons, or cheetie-pussie, not far from the warmth of the ace (ashes). Thrift prescribed a big gatherin' coal backed by chows (small coal) or, at the worst, coom (dross). On the mother's knee began the knowledge of the vernacular. How the peekin', dwinin' bairn was brightened up by "Creepie, crappie, &c.," or "Bree, bree, brentie, &c.," or,—

"John Smith, a falla fine,
Can ye shoe this horse o' mine?"—
"Yes, indeed, an' that I can,
Juist as weel as ony man.
Pit a bit upon the tae
To gar the pownie speel the brae,
Pit a bit upon the heel
To gar the pownie pace weel,
Pace weel (presto), Pace weel" (prestissimo),

​while screams of delight greeted the "denouement" of the tale,—

"This ane biggit the baurn,
This ane stealt the corn,
This ane stood and saw,
This ane ran awa'-
An' wee peerie-winkie paid for a'."

The goodwife was an authority in minor morals, keeping careful watch over her flock as maturing years expanded character. An awkward girl was "a muckle tawpie" (Fr. taupe), a foolish boy was a "haveril," a "gawpus," or a "gomeril." The simpleton was a "cuif" or a "nose o' wax," while mental smartness was esteemed under the names of "gumshon," or "smeddum," or the "rummle-gumshon," of everyday common-sense. The elder sister, "fikey" and "perjink," was severe on a younger brother's hashiness, but the douce mother was wisely tolerant. "Auld maid's bairns are never misleared" (lair, lore), she would remark. She tholed much from the wheengin, raenin (Gael. ran, roar, cry, Norse, reen) bairn, but soon got out of patience with the thrawn, contermashus (contumacious) youngster. The "gansel" or insolent retort of the pert "smatchet" was sternly rebuked equally with the airs of the upsettin' brat. In Henryson's (1462) "Town and Country Mouse" the latter retorts thus: "Thy guse is gude, thy gansell sour as gall." In illustration Morley quotes the proverb, "A gude guse indeed, but she has an ill gansell," and explains the word as a severe rebuke (from agan, again, and sellan, to give), but in living use it is rather the equivalent of a "cheeky" retort, a speaking back impudently. A Morayshire phrase is, "Jist a gansellin creatur." Wright ("Dialect Dict.") says, "Originally a garlic sauce for goose, but now only figuratively, a saucy speech." Thrift was strictly inculcated, especially in the sparing use of best clothes. "Ilka day braw maks Sabbath a dilly-daw," or seedy-looking idler. Many a bien (well-to-do) good-wife went about in a short-gown and wrapper while her drawers were well-stocked with apparel.

Table manners were attended to, if at all, in somewhat blunt fashion. The hasty eater was warned not to ramsch his food. To snotter or slaver was no less objectionable in the ​ callant, the loon, or the haflin. Too much assurance was rebuked with "Ye're no blate." The impatient call for dinner elicited the diplomatic rejoinder, "It's braw to be hungry and ken o' meat," or, "It's on the hettest pairt o' the hoose." Such dainties as tea and white bread were reserved for elders, and remonstrance was met with the proverb, "Corn's no for staigs" (colts). Grown-up folk held the young with a ticht hand, dealing out "skelps" and "paiks" with liberal allowance as a necessary aid to growth, morally and physically. The "owreblate" youth was voted a "sumph," a word still used by colliers to denote the, as it were, swampy hollow at the bottom of the shaft. The tomboyish girl was condemned as "roid," a corruption of rude, and the light-headed as "giglot" in the fashion of Cowper's office pastime, "giggling and making giggle." The mischievous (with its Elizabethan accent on the penult) boy was a "monkey," or a loon-lookin' dog, or a limb of Sawtan, an expression like Burns's rundeils or clippings off Auld Nick. His glossarists, by-the-by, have not looked very narrowly into this graphic word, a run' or rund, the selvage of cloth or whatever goes round. It is the too-familiar Rand of the Transvaal, or reef of hills round Johannesburg where the gold-mines are. The throo-gaw'n mother could not endure sloongin over work, the couthie one had no patience with gloomin', stoomin' (Ger. "stumm," dumb), or dortin', while the furthie housewife had nothing "near" about her hospitality. Throo-ither-ness in house affairs was odious to the purpose-like goodwife. The ill-set rascal, the ill-doin' waffie, and the wairdless vagral body found no favour, and when someone had to go anes errand on a particular service, no mercy was shown to him that said he was "deid sweer" or would be "seek sorry." Gossip was condemned as clashing, an essentially feminine weakness. The severest criticsm of conduct, indeed, was directed to the frailer sex, backsliders being progressively characterised by the uncomplimentary epithets—gilpy, besom, hizzie, herry (Ger. Herr, master, cf. virago), randy, limmer. To get into debt was to tak on, and to become bankrupt was to fail, a social catastrophe linked with insanity and suicide as among the sorest of fortune's buffets. To run the cutter (whisky bottle) betokened a confirmed habit of tippling. A sand-bed o' drink graphically described the ​constant boozer, chronically "on the ball." A crack over the stoups filling at well or pump was accentuated with such expressions of surprise as my certie! my san! losh peetie me! goavy-dick!

The inborn habit of thrift led to fine distinctions in expressions for small quantities:—

  • Tate=Eng. tit, tot, teat.
  • Cum=Orcad. "a curney o' piltacks" (large number of coalfish).
  • Stime=a speck, "canna see a stime."
  • Bittock=little bit.
  • Puckle=a little "picked up."
  • Wheen=piece broken off, akin to Lat. cuneus, a wedge.
  • Feck=a good deal.
  • Hantle=handful.
  • Gowpen=what one can scoop up.
  • Nievefu'=a fistful.
  • Wee hue (Renfr.)=a small portion as a tasting, "a wee hue mair," anither drappie.

An obsolete word, haet (cf. Boer lets, ocht or anything, niets, nocht) is in Burns's "Twa Dogs,"—

"But Gentlemen and Ladies warst,
Wi' ev'n down want o' wark they're curst,
They loiter, longing, lank, an' lazy:
Tho' deil haet ails them, they're uneasy."

The "hale apothick" expressed what is vulgarly known as "the whole bilin." I do not think the word, as thus used, had anything to do with the legal "hypothec." Besides, it would be very awkward to have two initial aspirates so close together. The term is the Greek apotheke (a granary), very early adopted in Germany and Holland for a shop or general store. Both in sense and sound this form is preferable to "hale hypothik."

The best qualities of the goodwife came out in distress, as when a glisk o' cold or a groosin (cf. Ger. "grausen," to shudder) brought on a hoast, or foreboded the nirls (measles), or maybe the more serious broonkaidis; or taebetless fingers had to be ​thawed in loo water; or skelbs and hacks and gaws (galls) needed tender handling or a healing saw (salve). But the case was altered if a thoughtless pliskie brought a broken "lozen" (lozenge-shaped pane). If the glossarists of Burns had been familiar with the graphic "taebetless" (fingers all thumbs, without to-put or applicaiton) they would have better understood his descritpion of his muse as a "taepetless, ramfeezeled hizzy." Should playmates fall out there was a little sympathy at home with the cloor on the head, the dad i' the lug, or the bluidy nose. The sensible mother of those days, like the Cassius of "Julius Cæsar," did not think "that every nice offence should bear his comment." "Best tholed, soonest mended" was all the consolation. Grown-up people spoke more gravely of an income, a weed, the rose (erysipelas), or the pains (ague). A cut was delayed in healing when the proud flesh appeared or when it began to beal (suppurate) and form a gatherin'. The water brash was a frequent symptom of indigestion. And, after all, there were the dispensations that could only be tholed. The undergrown was a droch (dwarf), the curved-spine was boolie-backet, the cleft palate was the whummle-bore. But worst rial of all was that heavy handfu', the helpless natural or harmless loonie (lunatic).

A list of about 350 words, embracing much of the vernacular that has been used in the foregoing pages, was distributed by me, to be reported on by obliging correspondents in East Fife, Angus, Hawick, South Lanark and Galloway, The reports bore evidence to the very general diffusion of these Fifeshire expressions. It must be said, however, that the reporters were all in sympathy with the archaic in the vernacular. In one district, East Fife, a very large proportion of the words were found to be now unknown, significant of how little of the vernacular now lives. As this was the very district where the material forming the list was originally gleaned, we have here a striking proof of decadence.

Though the words were upon the whole familiar to some of the districts, there were, in many cases, curious preferences—both when there was close proximity, as Fife and Forfar, and again at wide intervals, such as Fife and Galloway.

I select the following as reported blank (absolutely or in the ​sense or form given here) from all the districts, except, of course parts of Fife:—

  • Gellie, leech.
  • Tiki-molie, boys' trick.
  • Gutter-gaw, sores between toes of bare-footed walkers in puddles.
  • Fichils, feats.
  • Pennart, tin case for penholders.
  • Seek sorry, unwilling.
  • Chows, small coal.
  • Speengie-rose, peony.
  • Cummins, in malt. Jamieson has "Cumin, wort.”
  • Hagg, man who tends fat cattle.
  • Treviss, frame to shoe horses; common in other sense.
  • Flauchter-spade, boys' game.
  • Hunker-tottie, cowering slide.
  • Monk, horse's head-stall.
  • Nose o' wax, ninny.
  • Sand-bed o' drink, drunkard.
  • Giglot, laughing girl.
  • Whummle-bore, cleft palate.
  • Onbonny, ugly.
  • Shelly-coat, tortoise-shell moth.
  • Meedge, mark to steer by.
  • Thro-pit, go.
  • Rüenin, wbimpering.
  • Fuggy-toddler, humble bee.
  • Peeler, soft crab.
  • Ringle-e'ed, wall-eyed.
  • Stoom, to look sulky.

It might also be said that these are not in Jamieson either, if one might speak positively on such a point. Upon another set of these words corroboration was got only from Jamieson:—

  • Coo-baikie, pole securing cow in stall.
  • Dunter, eider-duck.
  • Strokannet, burrow-duck.
  • Poddlies, young saithe.
  • Gurthie, nauseous, what "staws."
  • Flaws, ends of horse-shoe nails.
  • Fraekin, wheedling.
  • Wrig, puis-né grice, or young pig.
  • Golack, beetle.
  • Kimmen, a milk-pail.
  • Carrick, shinty stick.
  • Furthie, liberal.
  • Bauk, grass walk in a garden.
  • Gansell, insolent retort.
  • Spar, close a gate.
  • Keelie, a sparrow-hawk.

These lists are given merely as specimens of what are purely local and, in some cases, lost words.

The bulk of the foregoing specimens of the vernacular, regarded as an object-lesson in popular philology, is the common property of that bygone phase of village life in Lowland Scotland which has been dubbed, by unsympathetic critics, the "Kailyard." As the result of the observation of actual usage within a special area, it has features of its own that might be valuable for comparison and suggestion. Such studies do not ​ call either for book knowledge or profound scholarship. Be it always remembered that philological research has these distinct fields—(a) The genesis or kinship of a word; (b) its various applications; (c) its distribution, if vernacular. These are precisely analogous to the great departments of research in the natural sciences of observation. The scholar must be left to discuss the first in his dictionaries. For the other two, “the plain man may well be a valuable and competent witness, but to gather his evidence demands wide observation and generous co-operation. The foregoing pages have attempted to show that the “plain” man’s field of observation possesses a broad, human interest, in which mere dictionary-making must be deficient.

2. Farm Life in Moray.

It is a hopeful sign of progress that education is at last recognising the value of Bacon's two-fold instrument for the acquisition of knowledge—observation and experiment. In the natural sciences we readily concede a place to this method, but in the study of language we are still devoted to books. The naturalist explores sea and land in search of truth, but human nature offers a still wider field in recovering the fading traces of old customs, manners, and beliefs, embedded in obscure terms and proverbial sayings. And the joy of following up one of those survivals and garnering the crowd of associated recollections which it suggests is of far more vital, because more human, interest than the accumulation of “specimens,” stuffed or dried.

The following study is designed as a specimen of what might be called field-philology. The invention of printing has helped to make us all forget that the spoken, not the written, word is the true phase of a living language. This is specially true of the vernacular. If we wish to get into intimate touch with its diction we must catch it from the lips of those who think and feel in it. And if the listener is in a similar position, there will arise a real bond of sympathy and a fruitful stimulus to the imagination. With a view to such study I prepared a list of terms familiar to me as the general vernacular of my youth ​ in East Fifeshire and utilised it in interviewing my living subjects."

While holidaying at Stonehaven one summer I had the good fortune to fall in with a most interesting specimen of the countryman of the olden time, unspoilt by town, by school I might almost say, and certainly by college and books. He was a Mr. Ross, and was spending the autumn of his days with his son, who had the leading photographic studio in Stonehaven. For fifty years and over he had lived amid rural surroundings, and not only had much to communicate but took a real pleasure in communicating it. The delights of reminiscence, to one even moderately endowed with imagination, are a real compensation for declining age and powers. What I gathered from this observant and intelligent informant I have amplified from my own stores. His native district of Morayshire lay in the western comer of that north-eastern shoulder of Scotland which is, philologically, perhaps the most interesting in the country, surrounded as it is by the Celtic west and the North-Anglian south, and ever open to the influx of the hardy Norsemen who came on the wings of the snell Nor-easter, The Celtic elements are extremely, but quite accountably, few, but the Norse abound, and therefore I have made ample use of such material as lies to hand in Edmonston's “Dictionary for Orkney and Shetland,” and, still more largely, in the late Dr. Grigor's “Glossary of the Buchan Dialect.” To these I add the two volumes on the “Dialect of Cumberland," a labour of love on the part of three dalesmen and excellent philologists, Messrs. W. Dickinson, S. Dickson Brown, and Dr. E. W. Prevost. Theirs is quite a model of what Dialect Glossaries ought to be. The interest of these volumes in this connection lies in the fact that the dales, through the Solway and Irish Sea, offered a welcome home to the Norsemen. For the Scottish side of this Norse influence I have also used the glossary in Shaw's "Country Schoolmaster,” a Nithsdale observer. Including my own native Fife, therefore, on its coast side, my survey embraces all the Norse influences ever brought in Scotland to blend with the older North-Anglian, excluding those on the Western Isles, the effect of which last on the native Celtic was neither extensive nor persistent.

​ My friend's memories went back almost to the first quarter of last century. A Morayshire man, he had spent his youth and most of his manhood in the beautiful vale of Pluscarden. It is cut off from the plain of Moray by the long wooded ridge of the Heldon Hill, forming a welcome screen from the north, while southwards across the vale the ground rises away up to the moorlands of Badenoch. Through the vale flows the Black Water on its way to join the Lossie near to Elgin, six miles off. The cyclist, climbing the easy ascent of the valley, makes his exit from the vale to westwards by the base of Cluny Hill into Forres. The return journey to Elgin on the North side of the Heldon would take him by the mystic sculptured stone of King Sweno and the ruined abbey of Kinloss.

Early in the thirteenth century the Cistercians planted their picturesque priory here in a secluded vale (vallis clausa) that might well remind them of their own Italian Vaucluse. Alexander II. (1230) was partial to the Cistercians. He planted them in other two secluded retreats — Ardchattan and Beauly. Scotland owes them an unrecorded debt, for they were the farming monks who brought to the wild Celt land the arts of the sheep walk, the garden, and the meadows rich with corn. They chose out, as here and at Newbattle beside the South Esk, a spot embosomed among the hills, on the generous soil of the haugh land, where the clack of the mill might blend with the matins. The scene now breathes a singular calm—the solemn approach between the files of thickly-grown hollies, the stately eastern gateway through the lofty precinct wall, the silent mill, the deserted cloisters and the grey walls of the roofless pile looking out at intervals from their mantle of ivy. The lands came to the Duff family about 1710, but were sold by the Duke of Fife to the late Marquis of Bute. When I saw the priory the ivy was being removed, and the usual diggings and drawings of the Marquis's restorations were in progress. Early in last century (1821) the Earl of Fife contemplated the fitting up of the choir as a church for the district, but, instead, the monk's Calefactory was roofed in and set up as a Chapel of Ease, which ultimately was handed over to the Frees at the Disruption. Above this low-ceilinged place of worship is the Dormitory, usually chosen from the warmth afforded by the kitchen ​ beneath. It is now roofed as a ballroom and a shelter for the trippers.

The precincts are enclosed within a high wall pierced by the principal gateway, which one approaches along an impressive avenue of solemn-looking holly. The ancient mill-lade skirts the wall here. The nave never was built. The choir and two transepts of the chapel still stand. When old St. Giles' in Elgin was pulled down (1826) its pulpit was secured for the chapel here.

The centuries have rung their changes on this haven of spiritual peace. Through the rough medieval ages the lay brothers ploughed and planted in the vale, while the monks plied their pious round of book and bell, of plain song and mass. The storm of the Reformation passed harmlessly by. The last of the monks lived here in peace till 1586. The Presbyterian Church was for generations too poor to do much for rural districts like this, so that not till the beginning of the eighteenth century was the Evangel again heard in the valley. Once more (1843) was there a moving of the waters, when almost the entire flock came out, and the tiny Chapel of Ease was handed over to the Church of Chalmers. Lastly came the Marquis of Bute, with his devotion to the beautiful past of the Old Faith, and swept from the sacred walls the kindly mantle of green within which the centuries had enfolded them. If anywhere in Scotland the imagination could plant the ideal retreat of Milton's Il Penseroso, surely it would be here,—

“But let my due feet never fail
To walk the studious cloister's pale,
And love the high embowed roof,
With antique pillars massy-proof,
And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light.
There let the pealing organ blow,
To the full-voiced quire below,
In service high and anthems clear,
As may with sweetness, through mine ear,
Dissolve me into ecstasies."

But the contrast of to-day had little that was ecstatic in it for me as I wheeled away from the hallowed precincts on a summer ​ Saturday evening to the strains of the tripper's melodeon and the wry-necked fife.”

Some fine trees in the haugh are probably patriarchs of the pre-Reformation period, but the dense coverts on the surrounding hills, closing in far to west with the vast woods of Altyre beside the Findhorn river, are the growth of last century. Till then all these north-eastern parts were the bleakest and barest in Scotland. In the youth of my friend the picturesque counted for little. Above stretched the monotonous brown of the moorland, in the bottom of the vale were the frequent miry hollows where the sheep got drowned or the cow “lairdet." Rutty, stone-strewn tracks led to the frequent clachan or humble homestead. Over the Heldon, on the great north road, the “Defiance” rolled on its way to Inverness, a daily excitement to Elgin, where it brought the London letters late in the afternoon of the third day after posting. Life in the vale was purely agricultural. Ploughmen had up to £10 a year, with board; such artisans as got jobs made but half a crown a day. A weaver, working his longest and hardest, might have ten shillings a week.

It is significant that the minister and the schoolmaster found no place in my friend's narrative. Naturally his ideas grouped themselves round the farm. A large proportion of his words belong to the common stock of Lowland dialect, so I select only the more novel ones, passing over, at the same time, any comment on his own interesting personality. I knew the term wrack for the refuse of weeds from the fields, but he called it brintlin (burnings). This refuse of the fields was mainly formed of “ quickens" or couch-grass and knap or knot-grass, as in “Comus"—“with knot-grass dew-sprent.” This latter was red with knobs or knaps at intervals on the stalk. One of my own boyish diversions into wild life was to bury potatoes in the heap of burning wrack, and to pull them out when roasted and eat them piping hot. New to me was his term, a wining, for "a bittie o' a field.” “Fou arr ee gettin' on?” “O, I've jist a wining to dee.” So, too, his "fleed,” a head-or end-rig in a field. The obsolete thig, to beg, once in general use, was applied to the thriftless ones who would go from house to house for “pucklies o corn” at sowing time, or for a sheaf when reap​ing was in progress. Originally it was the begging of seed oats to sow the first crop on entering a farm. The hay was done up first in colies, then tramp-colies, and last in hey-soos or trances. In Shetland the head-koil or koil-tett is the top sheaf on the haystack. The sickle was the hyuck, either the ancient toothed ind, requiring no sharpening, or the syth-hyuck, a very capable implement in the hands of an active lass, specially if kemping or striving with rivals for speed. There were a few odd terms for implements. A rake to clear out manure from a cart was a hack or a drag, the latter, curiously, a North of England word. In Cumberland a drag is a three-pronged fork, known in Fife as a graep, for dragging or drawing litter out. Hack is another form of howk, dig out. "Sunshine mead him throw his cwoat off when in 'hackin' he grew warm " (Cumb.). A drill harrow was a shim, known not only in Banff and Moray but in Yorkshire. In Kent it goes bodily between the rows of hops. Winnowing of old was done on the sheelin (shelling) hill. An enormous saving was effected when a machine for it was introduced near the close of the eighteenth century. Many worthy folks thought it an impious thing thus to raise wind by art and man's contrivance. The fanners, as the machine was called, was in Moray named a winister.

These verses express the scruples of the straiter sect that objected to 'novations,—

"But the priest o' the pairish,
Sae godly and richt,
Got word o' the wark
'At was done that nicht;
And cam to oor mailins
An' made muckle din,
'Bout the corn at was windet
Wi' ungodly win'."

A minister's wife, having made an effort to have her daughter "finished" in Edinburgh, was naturally a diligent matchmaker. Entertaining an eligible young farmer at the manse one evening, she made much of the young lady's piano playing. The farmer, appealed to for a compliment, confessed that to him the best music was the sound of the fanners.

​ The management of the domestic animals produces many-special terms. My Morayshire friend distinguished three stages in the life of an ox—calf, stirk, stot. A colt was a clip and not the usual " staig " (Gael, cliob, explained by MacBain as anything dangling; cliobach, hairy, shaggy; cliobog, a colt; clibeag, a filly). In German, Klepper is a pony. It is certainly surprising to find any word like the German Klepper in Morayshire. Kluge suggests that Klepper—akin to our clip, what catches by an embrace — may be from the little bells on the harness, or from the short, clipped action in running. The Celtic sense, as MacBain gives it, seems preferable to this. The tether which secured the cow in the stall or at grass was the baikie. In Fife an upright pole, secured to the floor of the byre at one end, to the roof at the other, had a sliding ring on it, to which the collar of the cow was attached, so that its head could move freely up and down. This was the coo-baikie. The word was never used in any other connection. In Northumberland the collar was a bent wooden band shaped like a horse-shoe, and called a f rammelt or thrammelt. This was attached to the upright baikie. Here we probably have the name for the apparatus that occurs in "Johnie Gibb," an Aberdeenshire story, viz., sells and thrammles. Sele or sale is a word widely diffused over the Indo-European tongues, and always in the general sense of a rope. In Moray the rope which passed over the cow's head and connected the two wooden cheeks of the branks or headstall was the iver or over-sell. Compare the Go. in-sailjan, used where the bearers of the paralytic lowered his bed by ropes through the roof, " in-sailidedun thata badi."

The expression, hovin, for a cow swoln up after eating wet clover, has such variants as heftet (Fife), and boutent (Moray). For Nithsdale Shaw gives us an unusual application of "heftet "—domiciled as of sheep used to a pasture, evidently a metaphor from haft or heft for a handle. But the Gothic Gospels (Luke XV. 15) say that the Prodigal Son gahaftida sik, hired himself. Boutent is from the Buchan bowden to swell, used always in this connection. Dialect is rich in tool and implement terms. The Fife deeple, a variant of dibble, is in Moray dimple, used in planting "neeps and kale." "It took," said my friend, "three men to dimple an acre a day." A variant, again, on snod, neat, ​ is the peasant's sned, to head and tail turnips. Such terms often preserve obsolete farming processes, such as cannas (canvas), used to catch the winnowed corn. Hence the Buchan proverb for independence, "I can win (winnow) i' my ain cannas." A cannas-breid was a familiar expression for size, as, "A cot wi' a cannas-breid o' a gairden." Mink is a Morayshire variant on monk (Fife), the head-stall of a horse. Grigor's " Glossary " gives the act of coiling up a rope as minkan-up, and a rimin-mink as a slip-knot. " Mink up the coo's tether," is one of his phrases. Call-names for domestic animals are wonderfully persistent, such as Trooie (Moray) to a cow, for the Fife Prooie, or the Buchan Treesh. The duck call, Wheetie, and the pigeon, Peasie, are both widely spread. My friend was not so famUiar with geld (to castrate, hence gelding), as with its variant lib, of which he had an odd application. If one was getting in new potatoes, before starting to lift he would say, " I'll gae an' lib twa or three to see what kind they are."

Similarly plants and animals had their special names. My friend did not know the Fife name for the ragwort, the weebie, or the Ayrshire bun weed, but called it stinking Willie, just as in Ulster, where it is the stink-weed. From a strong and persistent root it sends up a cluster of tall stems crowned by a mass of small yellow flowers. One variety of the plant, the tansy, has a peculiarly pleasant odour when pressed. My friend had the usual old "freit" about the weed: "It liket a bit good ground and did na grow weel in Buchan," for instance. It is certainly evidence of disgracefully bad farming. I have seen a small paddock beside a County Down homestead so covered with the growth as almost to hide the grazing cow. The farmer let himself be cheated out of two-thirds of his grass, when he could have scythed down the weed within an hour. Eagwort grows freely in ill-drained, poor pasture. The cornfields were equally impoverished by what in Moray was called the gool. The pretty yellow of the wild chrysanthemum is tolerable enough on a small scale ; of old it must have been odious to anyone but the sluggard. The yaar or corn-spurry is not quite so obtrusive. It grows low but spreads far and thickly. Both were pronounced to be " very bad, very destructive." He had the popular aversion to the harmless newt—"abominable ​ critturs. I've seen them in damp hoossis." It has been suggested that this prejudice was due to a confusion with the poisonous asp of Scriptures. The newt is widely known as the ask, esk in Fife. It is really the same as the river name, Esk, Celtic for water. In Cumberland the newt is the wet or water ask, the lizard the dry. Another creeping thing that he shunned was the earwig, which he knew, not as the clipsheers of my youth, but as the flachter golak. Properly the golak is the clock or beetle. The "flachter" is explained by the old man's distinction between a divot and a feal. The former was a long thin turf "cas'n wi' a flachter spade" for roofing or covering potato heaps ; the latter a thick turf, "cas'n wi' a common spade" for building the dykes that formed the universal fences or for the walls of houses, layer of stone and feal alternately. The only one that practises flachterin now is the golfer. The garrie-bee was more attractive than any golak. It was described as striped and about the size of the foggie, but having a lot more honey. The "human boy " of old, like Caliban, the primitive man, loved " the bag o' the bee." The foggie, also known as the foggie-toddler, is the small yellow bee that seems to crawl, baby fashion, over the soft, yellow fog or moss. Gar, or gor, as a prefix in plant and animal names, denotes what is large and coarse, as in gyr-falcon, gor-cock. Fozie is foggie through age from lying on the ground. In Shetland fog is fjugg, airy stuff.

In the domestic series I gathered a few fresh specimens. The gizzened tub, rendered leaky through drought, is quite familiar. Not so the Morayshire expression for correcting this fault by soaking in water again. This was known as beenin. "Deed, ee'll hae to pit that tub to been afore ee get muckle eess o't." The feeling for a telling metaphor is keen in Scottish dialect. A genial host, pressing a cronie whose drouth was of more cautious type, said, "Dod, man, yer no beend yit." The word is specially North-eastern in habitat, and so may be akin to the Danish bolner, to swell. The loss of the l is quite regular. The word lends itself to the expression of a loud, full noise, and in this aspect may be recognised in the Bullers of Buchan, where the waves make a terrific bullerin among the rocky caverns. Shaw's "Dumfriesshire Dialect" also notes the ​ Bullers in this connection, as well as the figurative application to a great growth under an accession of heat and rain—“Everything's bullerin out.” Norse influence is very notable in the river valleys running up from the Solway. On the other hand, Gaelic had surprisingly little influence, even in Moray. I gathered but one notable specimen, greesh, an old-fashioned fireplace of clay, built against the "gavel” of the cottage. Just such an one Bums's father set up in the “auld clay biggin.” It is the early Irish gris, fire. Shaw notes the diminutive grushach, hot, glowing embers, and Chambers, in the delightful “Popular Rhymes,” gives it in a Dumfriesshire variant of the “Wee Bunnock": “There was an old man and an old wife, and they lived in a killogie. Quoth the auld man to the auld wife, Rise and bake me a bannock.' So she rase and bakit a bannock, and set it afore the greeshoch to harden.” The Orcadian kiln-huggie is the fireplace of the kiln. To these may be added a very common Morayshire word, doubtless of native origin, howp, a mouthful, as in the expression, "Let's see a mouthfu' o' watter."

Small communities tended to foster the personal, and generally uncomplimentary, form of familiar criticism. My friend had several peculiar specimens of this class, which I give at random:—Be-gyte, a variant of the more usual be-gowk, to cheat, e.g. “I was terrible be-gytet," said a man who had unwisely married a second time; dirdum, a scolding, overbearing dame, but usually a disturbance, blame; galsh, rubbishy talk, e.g. “A galshin crittur, only a lot o galsh an' nae eediefaction in't;" gutty, as a big-bellied bottle—Wright quotes from the Ayrshire story, “Dr. Duguid,” “A gutty we chiel that gaed aboot the toon wi' knee breeks on"; pee-akin, sickly, puling, e.g. "Yer like a deein chicken, a pee-akin thing," a variant of the West of Scotland peel-wersh, sickly; peerie-weerie, “ terrible weak stuff,” a variant of the Glasgow peelie-wally. In Lanarkshire the little finger is peerie or peerlie-winkie. In Banff “peeack” is the chirp of a young bird, or any one with a small, insignificant voice, “Faht kyn's (sort) yir noo minister?” “He's jist a mere peeack. We hardly saw 'm i' the poopit, an'he cheepit an’ squeakit like a moos aneeth a firlot“ (corn measure). “Yir chuckies ar peeackin gey muckle, an' hingin thir wings, I doot ​ they winna stand the kin (kain) lang.” Sclitter, uncouth, a lazy person ; scuddy, jimp, scrimpit, e.g. “ Yere terrible scuddy wi' eer mizzur; ee dinna turn ee bauk," or beam carrying the scales; dottrifeed, a variant of tabitless or thowless, handless, fingers all thumbs, e.g. “That dottrified he can dae naething, the fushin's a' oot o'im "—these are also very expressive. Shaw, it may be noted, has the peculiar" scuddy" above as Dumfriesshire, where it means naked, bare, as a child or nestling. While my friend used all these out-of-the-way words he seemed unfamiliar with such as hip, to miss, pass over; lippen, to trust to; lapper, to clot, as blood or milk.

The foregoing shows that the language of mutual criticism was not unknown among this rural community. To speak fast was to yammer, a variant of yatter. Mimp (a variant of mumble), in Cumberland to talk primly and mincingly, and properly meaning a small part, is applied in Banffshire to an affected walk: “She mimpit an' primpit throo the room.” Sclitter was an ill-shaped, lazy, indolent, slooterin person, while slabbery was used like the Fife hashy. The coward was the foogie, a wide-spread relic of the Candlemas cock-fight in school. “Gie 'm the foogie lick; that'll riz his birse," with which last. word compare Gaelic bairseag, a scold. In Buchan it usually is applied to playing truant: “The twa loons fugiet the squeel, an' geed awa to the widds, an' harriet craws' nests a' day." It is a relic of schoolboy Latin, from fugio, to run away.

Yankee 'cuteness finds its analogue in the North-eastern phrase, to take a nip of one. Apropos is Grigor's story: "Fin I wiz a bit loonie, him and me trockit (bartered, niffered) watches; an' he took a nip o' ma; for, fin I geed, she (the watch) geed, an’ fin I steed, she steed. A jist lost (so many) shillins, an'a thocht this was my last chance," said by an old sexton in excuse for an overcharge in digging a grave, the grave of a man who had “taen a nip o'm.”

Continuing the peculiar, but not necessarily uncomplimentary, terms, I note cothie, usually coothie, in the sense of very comfortable; Cumb."a varra cowthie body," i.e. kindly. From it came the odd expression cothie juke, cothie-guckie, a snug shelter, a cosy beild. Hare-shed, hare-lip, was the cleft in a defective upper lip. The effect on speech is to produce the "whummle​ bore." Jots is used for jobs, usually trokes, e.g. “The servan lass riz i' the mornin, did up her jots, and geed awa tee market." Jamieson has jotterie, odd or dirty work. The most general term for this sort of thing is trokes, trokin, but these were unknown to my friend.

Many of these expressions are due to the special phonetic system of the North-eastern counties. Of this I secured some interesting illustrations from my friend. He sounded initial k where it is now silent, as in the olden time over Scotland and as in German still. He called the ankle-bone the kynockel o' the queet (Ger. Knochel, a joint, our knuckle); queet here is very characteristic. It appears also as cüte, cuitt, always referring to the epiphyses or knobs at the lower end of the tibia. A Fife man, narrowly examining the impressive mount of the trooper sentry at the gate of the Horse Guards on his first visit to London, was astonished to hear the warning, “Tak care, freend, or mebbes ye'll git your cuitts cloored" (be kicked on the ankles by the horse). The Guardsman hailed from Anster, and retained the accents of the fisher-toon. Mr. Ross knew the foot of the cow as the hive (hoof): “Yir beast has lang hives.” The older term is clüte, akin to the German kleuz, split, cloven. The Orcadian clett is a rock in the sea, broken off from the adjoining rocks on shore; cf. skerry and scaur. A singular illustration of how the track of the stranger can be followed by words is the appearance of clett on an odd and isolated corner of the Fife coast. Such a cliff or stack as one finds on the Caithness coast overhangs the bathing place well known at St. Andrews as the Step Rock. It used to be a tour de force for a daring bather to take a header from the Cleet into the pool below, brimful of the tide. Clooty is a familiar soubriquet of the Evil One, as shown on the mediæval stage: “If black claes maks a parfyt inan, Auld Clooty beets the priest” (Northumb.). Somewhat similar was kyob for the usual gebbie, a bird's crop (cf. gob, gab): That kyobie o'ee beestie is crammed fou o' meat." This initial I found also in his kneef, meaning “in thorough sympathy," “rale cheef,” reminding one of Shakspere's gossips who“knapped ginger” together. The root idea is that of breaking into small bits, hence the usages, pinching (nip), cutting (knife), breaking stones for roads (knappin). In the Morayshire sense we compare ​ the "kneipen" of the German students. Without the k we have nip, to outwit, as in the Morayshire expression, "He fairly took the nip o' me." In the South this would be "He took his nap aff me." The form ouks for weeks, general over Scotland in the seventeenth century, lingered long in the North, but is now old-fashioned: "Sax ouks o' a knee-deep storm i' the mid o' Mairch; it nivver devald" (ceased). On the same lines is the Aberdeenshire description of a spell of wet weather in the uplands of the county: " Up i ee Cabrach for sax ouks ther wizz an onding o' weet oena upalt (uphold) or deval." This is a good test of an ear for Scottish dialect, if spoken moderately fast. Grigor has a variant of this saying, " It dang on sax ooks delaverly on iver uppalt or dewalt." He glosses delaverly here as continuously, which looks very like Chaucer's " deliver," nimble, active, as "Wonderly deliver and gret of strenthe," though it seems strange to see it used in Banffshire. The word oena here is exactly the German without, ohne, and once in common use. It is the favourite negative prefix as in 5n-bonnie, on-neat. Grigor gives this interesting example, "The nowt are gaein' throo an undeembus thing o' neeps: ye see, th'ive nae up-stanan." He compares the Shetland undumous, immense, uncountable from un, without, and deman, to reckon. The once familiar deval, to leave off, is, in Cumberland, dwalla in the sense of wither, grow yellow from damp,—

"If it sud rain on St. Swithin's day,
We're feckly sarrat wi' dwalled hay."

To continue on this human side of rustic speech, expressions for feelings are stanner-gaster, dumbfoundered; "a grue, cauld nicht" as inspiring a shivering sensation; yuckie, an itching feeling. With reference to their source of the feeling we have fousom (fulsome), dirty, causing disgust; wersh, generally insipid, and probably a contraction of the Buchan walshoch, weak and watery. Dreich is tedious. Hamil, Fife haemit, is home-made. A few examples applicable to manners as the outcome of feelings will suffice. Fraising, used much like the Fife fraiking, is the wheedling manner of a "twa-facet creatur." As marking the lowest grade of manners we have the "tinkler's tung," better known all over the edge of the Highlands by his name of caird. Thus ​ in Buchan, “Finevir the twa met, they wir in o ane anither's witters (withers), jist like twa kyard wives.”

The interest of dialect is not confined to the discovery of roots and affinities. It has preserved traces of many old customs. Thus the very primitive habit of beating down prices in bargaining, known as prigging, found no favour with my friend, who called it "a nashince (nuisance), just an ug," using in ug a very old word, still heard in the Border district. But it survives in ugly and ogre. He took an ug (dislike) at’s meht” is a phrase from Buchan. In Orkney and Shetland the bat is the oagar hiuuse, from a root, ogra, to frighten. Similarly the bauky bird of Burns is what bogles or frightens, such as a bat or a ghost.

Modern sports have done much to wean boys from the primitive delights of the monkey. A harmless amusement of the young was to pluck the long stalks of the ribwort, and, hitting each other's in turn, try which flower head would be first broken off. This my friend knew as playing at sogers with the carl-doddy. “We used,” he said, “ to fecht wi'd till wurr reegment was throo.” In Beattie's “ Arnha'," the work of a Mearns man (1820), we read,—

"I garr'd the pows flee frae their bodies,
Like nippin beads frae carl-doddies."

A red-letter day in the rural year was that of the clyack feast, when the hindmost pickle of corn was reaped, plaited together, and carried in triumph as The Maiden. The name is Celtic, cailleach, a woman wearing the caillie or cowl (Lat. cucullus). I was told that the farm hands always “hed a feastie at Clyack, getting leave, too, to spread butter on the pieces ad lib;" at other times the most they got was “a knottie o' butter.” And at Hallow-e'en, when the ingathering of corn and tatties was completed, “there was a big denner and a big tea." Another feast of a different kind marked the last sad scene of all—the lyk-wake. Lyk, a corpse, a word entirely gone unless as the affixly, was once in general use. In Shetland the leek-strae was the straw placed under the corpse in bed. “Calm as a leek,” still as the dead, was applied to the unruffled sea. In Moray it was a disgrace to have a corpse in the house with nothing beside it night and ​ day. A Bible was placed at the head of the table, and in the centre the bottle with pipes and tobacco. This was a strange survival of Catholic times, and handed down through the service of the mass for the dead.

Fascinating bits of folk-lore linger in names occurring in the play-time of life. Of school, which had never meant much to him, there was but the phrase, "Foo munny pandies did ee get the day?" For the ferule or leather taws he knew taurds. The Aberdeenshire word is tag. The boys' slate-pencil was skylie, the skeelyie of Fife. Only two play-terms he noted—herryin the peer man, and duckie. The former is smuggle the gag, equivalent in signification, for to herry is to run off with, to plunder, the gag or pledge (Lat. vas, a surety; Sc. wad-set, a mortgage). The peer man is the little man, the counter in this game of prehistoric man-hunting. The English barley-break is but another name for it. In Thomas Morley's "Book of Ballets" (1595) is the couplet,—

"Say, dainty nymphs and speak.
Shall we play at barley-break?"

Duckie seems to have been a sort of variation of rounders. A pointed stone was placed on the ground, and a smaller one on top of it. Beside it stood duckie or man in charge, while the others (outs) stood at intervals around. Each tried to knock off the top stone (also known as duckie). None must run till duckie was knocked off. If hit off, the outs tried to pick up duckie, and run to pass out of play. Duckie in charge had to put on the stone again and try to catch a relief. The outs had to do nothing till he put on the stone. In "Elgin Kirk Session Records" (Dr. Cramond) there is an unexplained reference to this game under the name of Duchman, apparently for Duckie Man. In the domestic series the most important piece of furniture was of old the deas (dais). Mr. Ross knew it as the big seat at the side of the house, to hold four, and not as the fireside settle. The term is well known over Aberdeenshire: "Seated in the deeee in Johnnie Gibb's kitchen " (Johnnie Gibb of Gushetneuk). In the kitchen he noted the vessel-board above the dresser, the saut-backet, and the meal girnel, a large, oblong chest. Round the front of the box beds against the wall hung the pawn, Fife ​ pawnd (Lat. pendo, to hang, through French). Of house utensils there were the bowie, a round barrel for the milk, and the scimmer "for reamin" or removing the cream on top. A smaller and shallower milk vessel was the bain, probably from the Gaelic bainne, milk. In South-western Scotland it is always a washing-tub. In Sackville's "Induction to the Mirror for Magistrates" (1555) there is an example of the word,—

"And Priam eke, in vain how he did run
To arms, whom Pyrrhus with despite hath done
To cruel death, and bathed him in the bayne
Of his son's blood before the altar slain."

Old-fashioned varieties of food lingered in sowens, and soor-dook. Soup maigre was barefit broth, of water, pot barley, and milk. Dainties were little known, such as in "the liths" of an orange, a word which he had never heard.

I did not test my friend much on the wide held of natural objects. He knew the Buchan for the lapwing, the wallop, evidently in both cases a visualising of the bird's characteristic flight. The rhyme,—

"Wallop-a, wallop-a weet,
Hairry ma nest, an' rin awa' weet,"

is a variant of the familiar

"Pees-weet, Pees-weet (Fr. dix-huit),
Hairry my nest and gar (make) me greet."

He knew the yellow-hammer as the yellow yorlin. From the frog's spawn he got an indication of the weather. " If the season was to be dry, it was in the centre of the pool; if wet, near the edge." He never saw this prognostic fail, but could give no guarantee for a period beyond three months, when the young came to maturity. In the plant world I note only his Thissilaga (colt's foot) and Peenie (peony) rose for the Fife Dishielogie and Speengie rose respectively.

The scene of these reminiscences was the farm-toon of Willie Gallon. The "gudewife" was Leezie Harl—known, as married women of old were, by their maiden name—and their man or grieve, Rob Manson. "I was wi' them twenty years," said ​ the old man. Like most aged toilers of those days, he had suffered from rheumatism ; but now, he said, "I wud a been i' my grave ten year ago, but it hed been for that baths," using in "that" here the old Scottish and current Dutch form of the article. There is no grammatical blunder in it. I heard a Stonehaven fishwife, delivering an order and explaining her difficulty in finding the place, say, "I've been a' roond that hoossis." Reeently I heard an Aberdonian joiner in Glasgow tell his fellow-workman that he "could get up be that steps." The idiom is common in the Gothic Gospels of the fourth century.

Mr. Ross gave me the interesting story of his early life under his own hand. His narrative forms a valuable sidelight on rural culture, or rather the want of it, in a secluded corner during the first half of last century, all the more valuable as the vocal expression of a class among whom the rise of such another mouthpiece as Burns recorded time will never know. I present it exactly as I got it, and in this guise it is rudely eloquent, nay pathetic.

Here is an intelligent youth, reared in a parish which is supposed to have had its share in those educational advantages with which the half-informed credit John Knox, and this is how he had to educate himself. Those responsible for national education have the solemn duty imposed upon them of providing for intellectual destitution, of affording to obscure incipient talent the opportunities it is impossible for it to provide for itself. But, as it is, how often do we find it true that "to him that hath [monied parents, leisure, tutors, books] shall be given" [bursaries, prizes, honours]! In every form of the world's wealth, be it intellectual or material, the problem ever crying aloud for solution is distribution in the proper quarter, not accumulation.

"Immediatly after the second Reformation, which was effected in 1690, there was a great wunt of Ministers of the Presbitury. Persevaging hence (Following from this) a great meny Parishes had none in those days the People mead a play day of the Sabbeth they meat on the Abbey green (I refere to my Natife Glen Pluscarden neir Elgin) in the forenoon & Plaid at the Ball with Clubs: in the afternoon they meat in Grups & chaised Bees to get there Beiks; in winter thay gathered in ​ one anothers Houses cracked there gocks: on the other six dayes were employed in the work of the farm; up in the morning at the flalie by five A.M. thrashed till seven, then had Brackfast went to the fields Came home in the Glooming had Dinner. then went to some Center House Plaid at the Cards till eight oclock then home to Supper. kale & kale brose Torneeps & Torneep brose Sometimes brochen a thick kind of grouel: at Christimes thay would have taken a whole week Playing Night & day with a Dram now & again Some of them went home to there food, back as fast as possable thay had a most intense desire for playin Cards: a play thay termed three cart 1½d the dale: thay would sometimes taken a day at Hunting there were no Gam laws then thay fished after Dark with torchlight, firs split up into long Candls the fish Clustord around the light & thay then spaired them.

“The first Minister thay had in Pluscarden after the Reformation was a Mr. Hesbon his Stipon was eight pounds english, a small manse, with a but & ben with a Closet in the Center, he was vary much esteemed, the wives in the Glen, were allways bring som present for him it was like a Hevn below Minister & people were envloped in the Atmosphere of love; big Stipens dos not always mak loving Ministers he had no Beedel no Gown or bands no Manesript he went ben the pass[age] with his Bible below his arm, up to the Pulpet there Preached the Gospel with such power his flock listining so inteently to the Power of God's spirit Minister & herers souls being filled “it was the strongest Man that was looked up to in these days I will give you an instence of it: in Lochcarron: that Parish had ben long without a Minister at last there was a Mr. McLachlen ordained to go he went on a Sabbeth forenoon: got all the young men playing at the Ball with a Mukel Rorey as there Chef he saw at once except he got to be master of him he might go as he came: all there playgreens were beside there Churches: these were the Old deserted Epispicle Churches: thay did not all leave there comfortable homes for in East Aberdeenshire thay turned Presbiterian but to return: Mr. McLachlen joined in the play & ultematly got the better of Big Rorey: there were three ways of testing there Strenth the sweertree, wrestling & a battle with the hands Mr. McLachlen got the ​ master of Rorie he then ordred him to take so meny of the people to the Church he douing the same, thay just got two halones by the tim they came for the third the remnant had fled : he then armed Eorie with a big Stick ordred him to alow none out. when he went up to the Pulpet & preached that Sermon was the mens of Big Eories converson he then became an Elder & the tow were the meanse in Gods hand of douing a great work; there was a deal of ignorence & Superstetion a relick of barbaresem: an old woman on hir Deathbed told hir Caretakers to leeve hir neir the Yet that she might have time to be up & away before the thrang Vass.

"Thay beleved in witchcraft & Feries Gosts all sudden Deaths were effected by feries caled Elfs whou were contunley prowing about on eviel intent; & sudden Deaths was an elf shot there were heard before death the shukkie mill: the noise a small insect maks in decayed wood: thay beleived in some sudden deaths to be don by a Witch casting a Cantertup in the path of one thay did not love or baited thay alse beleived in days of luck thay beleived in the power of Burtrie & roden tree thay put bits of these in the iverseals that bound there Cows & above there Doors : thay beleived in Witches having power to transform themselves into hairs (hares): thay could tak away the Milk of a Neighbours Cow.

"Between the eand of the eightteenth centurie up till the dawn of the Nineteenth was an age of great darkness Supper-stetion & opresion Agriculter was in a vary Eoad (rude) Condition; the Common people were all Serfs the Lards (who) had pot & Gallos in there own hands : the one for hanging the other for Drowing whoever offended them were taken into there Courts bound to a ston with an iron chain & then taken at the Lards pleasure & consined to the one or the other thay had stons all Bound there Courts for binding there victims two hence there Mota above there Gait in Laten gang ye forth in beast & fill the fetters.

"there were scersley any whisky it was strong Ale : but thay learned to extract whisky from the Strong Ale: the Goverment put on Excise offesries to catch & plounder then were the days of deseption falsehood & judasem the poor Crofters had vary sore time of it worken Day & Night: going ten twelve mils in ​a Dark night an out of the way Road with a Shoulty & a Coggie on each side of the Horsie: sometimes they would be taken from them: the way thay mead the Whisky thay had Sacks mead of Hair which thay used for steeping the Barley after it was steeped & dreeped it was then taken to some out of the way place there to foment & become Malt—it was then taken to a kill to dry & all don in the Dark: it was then taken & ground in a Quren a vary angeint Mill the same kind as Jesus speaks of when he says two Wemon shall be grinding at the Mill the one shall be taken & the other left: after being ground it was put into a Cask & there keept till it became strong Ale: it was then put into a pot & boiled & the steem deverted into a tube called a wirm which was laid amongst Coold watir hence the steem cam out Whisky."

Notes to Ross Narrative.

p. 158 —
brochen, name for porridge, Gael. prochan, brochan, gruel—akin to broth.
p. 158 —
sweertree, a trial of strength: two, seated on the ground, grasp a stout stick between them and try which will raise the other up. It is the Sweir-Kitty in Teviotdale.
p. 159 —
halones. Jamieson, hallion, a clown: a clumsy fellow, a sloven (Banff).
p. 159 —
roden=rowan: The most approved charm against cantrips and, spells was a branch of rowan-tree, plaited and placed over the byre-door—hence the rhyme,—

"Roan-tree and red threed
Puts the witches to their speed."

In ploughing, the pattle or stick to clear the furrow, had to be of the rowan for good luck.

As supplementary to the foregoing gleanings I may here refer to another subject of interview. The road between Banchory and Stonehaven is a typical bit of varied prospect and interest. A few miles out of Stonehaven the wayfarer dips down into the valley of the Cowie, and, crossing the burn by the old brig where the tumbling stream seems hushed under its canopy of trees, he commences the long ascent to what a Transvaaler would call the Neck or notch in the hill land that opens out to him the silvan landscape of Deeside. A little off the highway he will see a lone, low-roofed cottage, its sombre grey ​relieved by a wealth of trailing rosebuds and its modest garden patch. Here a sturdily independent pair, father and daughter, planted their lodge in the wilderness. How they did it I shall leave them to tell in the following verses, which I took down from the lips of the sturdy dame, preserving, as faithfully as I could, the pronunciation. Known to the country-side as Cissy Wood, she still survives, a septuagenarian, the brave and indomitable mistress of her own humble fortunes. The reader will observe that, though there is little of the archaic in the language, his ear will recognise in it a genuine example of the tones of the Mearns.

THE BIGGIN O'T.

Tune—"The Rock and the Wee Pickle Tow."

There wuz an' auld man tuke a bit o' yon hull,
An' he wud gae try the biggin o't.
He hidna a hooss 'at he cud bide intill
An' his first wark wud be the biggin o't.
He biggit the wa's wi' gweed clay an' steen;
Wi' heather he happit the riggin o't:
A cantier dwallin' wuz ne'er to be seen,
An' sorra a bit cam by thiggin o't.

He's plantit some tatties to full his auld wime,
An' sawn some neeps for the stainshin o't,
Wi' ingens an' carrots to gar them taste fine,
An' mak him mair fit for the trinchin o't.
He's sawn some corn his bannocks to be;
He delv't it an' dung't it, for eident wuz he;
The aul' carl kent brawly foo awbody wud see,
There wad naething be made by the flinchin o't.

Fin the day'd turned dreary, an' the rain doon did fa',
O! then he gaed in to the planin o't,
To win to's auld pooch a shillinie or twa,
As there's neebody cares aboot len'in o't.
It's seldom the rich man hes siller to spare,
An' ere the poor get it they mun trachle sair,
Altho' that the winnin' breeds sorrow an' care,
Ee'll get plenty to help wi' the spen'in' o't.

​Fin the day lieht wuz deen an' him tired at the wark,
O! then he'd set doon to the tun'in' o't
An' the young in aboot flockt fin it wuz dark,
An' yokit to dince to the soon'in' o't.
They dinct and they jumpit till their legs they got sair,
An' it growin' late they hamewards repair,
An' thankt the aul' carl for biggin's cot there,
An' aye blesst the day o' the foon'in' o't.

For ance on yon hull-side grew heather an' trees;
The auld folk'll min' o' the plantin' o't.
An' in simmer it wuz swarmin' wi' birds an' wi' bees.
Which cheert his auld heart wi' the drintin' o't.
In the gloamin' the lads an' the lasses wud meet:
The whisperin' wuz fond, an' the kisses were sweet.
An' they leuch at the thing 'at wud weel gar'd them greet.
An' ne'er brak their heart wi' the thinkin' o't.

Bit noo there is naething bit scrabs to be seen,
The trees they're a' sawn for the wrichtin' o't.
Bit a' the tree roots they stuck fast to the green.
They gied him a sair back wi' the liftin' o't.
Sud the carl trincht a' he'll get muckle sweat wi't:
Ere he get it a' sawn, sud he e'er live to see't.
He'll hae twa simmer's suns yet an' ae winter's weet.
Afore he get wark wi' the dichtin' o't.

Bit may he yet live for to see it a' growin'.
An' a' stan'in' ready for reapin' o't.
Wi' twa breed-backit doddies to low i' the loan;
There's naething sae gweed for the weetin' o't!
An' may he ne'er wint fat his auld heart can tak—
A snufF till his nose an' a coat till his back,
An' an auld neeper cronie an hour wi'm to crack,
An' len' him a han' wi' the eatin' o't.

Though the words are almost all English, their vocalisation is significant and local:—

hull for hill gweed for good
dwallin'  „⁠ dwelling stainchin  „⁠ staunching
Fin  „ when dinct  „ danced
foow'in'  „ founding wint  „⁠ want.
​The few words calling for remark are drintin, evidently a modification of droning; scrabs, a variant of scrub, shrub, applied to self-sown, stunted trees; doddies, cows of the polled Angus variety. Doddy is a round, ball-like head, as the seed-stalk of the ribwort. Edmonston has curl-doddy, naturally clever, where curl is carle, or kêrel, a man. The word reminds one of Burns's phrase, a stalk of carl-hemp.

Cissy Wood, the owner of the cottage, was a most remarkable specimen of the best type of the Scottish peasantry. She was born early in last century at the Limpit Mill, overhanging a brattling burn, one of many that have worn a steep descent for themselves into the North Sea through the cliff wall that frowns on the tumbling waves at its feet between Stonehaven and Muchalls. She had worked steadily since seven "intill the mull," as she put it. "Speak aboot half-timers! I wuzz ay a hail-timer." When the larder, never very full, was low, grumbling was met with, "If ee dinna tak that, ee can lick wint," equally significant whether we take the wint here for wind or want.

Her temperament must always have run to the masculine rather than to the weaker side. She was twenty-four before she learnt stocking-knitting, or shank-wiving as she called it, using one of the commonest of names for stockings, shanks, known at one time all over Lowland Scotland. Her time was devoted to her croft, her garden, and her workshop, for she has in her own fashion solved the problem of a self-contained independence on the land. She has been joiner, blacksmith, and general mechanician to the neighbourhood, her "neepers" as she called them. She could handle a hei-sned (scythe), turn a lay (lathe), or put together a meal-bowie with the best. Her two "freits" in gardening were raising potatoes from the "plooms" (seed-capsule) and growing fantastic walking sticks. The potatoes were, the first year, the size of peas, and could be "eatt 'gin the third eer." In colour they were daintily mottled, black, brokkit and white. Her "brokkit" is familiar Gaelic for anything, say a trout or fern, that is speckled or variegated in spots. The walking sticks grew freely from willow slips. The branches, as they developed, were ingeniously intertwined. When matured, smoothed, and varnished they ​formed a "quaint device" much sought after by the curio hunter. Kale-runts and thistle-stems were ingeniously turned to the same purpose. This worthy woman's boast was the converse of that male solitary's, Silas Marner. She could do everything that the mere male attempted. To cap all, she could, in her best days, inspire the rural dance on a fiddle of her own making.

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3397769Studies in Lowland Scots — Side-Lights1909James Colville
​

IV.— SIDE-LIGHTS

1. Vernacular of the Lake District

It is a hopeful sign of progress that the mutual dependence of history, geography, and philology is becoming more and more recognised and acted upon. The bond of union is that element of human interest without which every study will soon lose its savour. The specialist who gropes round the study of his choice and sneers at others is but exploring his own dark chamber to the exclusion of the sunlight of fact and nature. No better illustration could there be of this helpful interdependence than what a glance at the map of England discloses. Down the West Coast extend three well-marked groups of hill country, Cumberland, Wales, and Cornwall, and in each and all the historical, geographical, and linguistic elements are "confusedly mingled," offering that prolonged quest which is so fascinating to the genuine student. The Cumberland group is particularly interesting as leaning more closely to Scotland than to England, towards which the Pennines seem to have presented a greater barrier than the Cheviots and the Solway did on their side. As a principality it was of old the appanage of the heir-apparent to the Scottish Throne, and as such raised nice questions of feudal tenure, which often brought the Scots and English to serious hand-i-grips, and made much history. At a still earlier period it formed, with South-Western Scotland, the country of the Strath-Clyde Britons, where the primitive Celts formed a counterpart to that Frisian race which gave a common character to the whole district between Humber and Tay. All over this Strath-Clyde Celtic has vanished before Norse with a strong Anglian admixture. It lives only in place-names. In Galloway even the patronymic Mac precedes Williams and Eoberts and Hughs, and the redoubtable Macdougall has become Macdowal (pronounced Madool). To north of Galloway, again, ​the Anglian conquest of Kyle in Ayrshire, in the eighth century, contributed still more to reduce the Celtic area in the South-west. The later Lollard movement in this district was probably a consequence of this early settlement. But it is among the Cumbrian dalesmen that the Norse element has been most persistent. The Norse kingdom in Scotland, before it was swept away at the battle of Largs, was in two parts, the Norder-ey or Northern Isles (Hebrides), and the Suder-ey or Southern Isles (Man and others). The bishopric of Sodor and Man still illustrates the division. Besides this affinity of speech and race across the Solway and the Sark, there was a long-standing trade connection. For ages sturdy Galloways and wild Doddies (polled cattle) "swam the Esk river where ford there was none" their way to the southern markets.

The historical and geographical aspects of the question being-thus stated generally, let me follow up the linguistic trail. Fortunately there lies before me an altogether admirable guide in "A Glossary of the Words and Phrases pertaining to the Dialect of Cumberland." By W. Dickinson, F.L.S. Rearranged, Illustrated and Augmented by Quotations by E. W. Prevost, Ph.D., F.R.S.E. With a Short Digest of the Phonology and Grammar of the Dialect by S. Dickson Brown, B.A. (Hons.) Lond. (London: Bemrose & Sons. Carlisle: Thurnam & Sons).

This work is a new edition of that published in 1859, and now improved by the elimination of elements not specially Cumbrian, but merely peculiar pronunciations of ordinary English. The Scottish student of the vernacular must put this invaluable guide alongside of his Grigor's "Buchan Dialect," Edmonston's "Orcadian Glossary," and Dr. Murray's "Dialects of the South of Scotland"—all he has indeed to set against the magnificent dialect work that has been done in England in a field that is not any richer than his own. Dr. Prevost has now completed this great work in an admirable "Supplement." These two volumes it is a very special pleasure to me to utilize ab valuable side-lights on the Scottish vernacular.

The "Supplement" is a substantial continuation, of over two hundred pages, to the author's larger work on the same subject, published in 1900. It runs on the same admirable lines as its predecessor in the scientific treatment of idiom and ​phonetics, sympathetic ingathering of material fast fading away, and abundant illustration of the dialect of the dalesmen from popular tale and song. Dr. Prevost has done work, unaided save by inborn, loving zeal, that, even in frugal Germany, is deemed worthy the aid of a State Department. Is there a class of subscribers in Scotland public-spirited enough to give similar countenance to the labourer there in a field that is quite as rich, but, alas! marked with decay? There has always been a double current of trade across the Sark, but traces of an early and unkindlier state of matters have been more persistent. Dr. Prevost quotes the significant couplet,—

"When Scots fwok starts to pou' their geese,
It's tyme to hooss baith nags and beese,"—

an echo of the freebooter's "hership," when the Michaelmas moon was welcomed as his lantern. In quieter times the Scots pedlar took his place among the dales, a character that Wordsworth made the model for his "Wanderer." To the packman's ear the Cumberland speech would sound homely. Familiar would be its fondness for the dental ending as in sheppert, forrat, anes-eerant ; the avoidance of the hard tone in bodd'm, foot-pad (path); the vocalising of prepositions as in wi' meh (with me); and the intrusion of a letter in such words as narder for nearer, spreckled for speckled. There are shades of difference here. For the Cumbrian's "Ah divn't, he disn't, plural, divn't " the Scot would say "Ah divna, he disna, we divna, they dinna," showing his fondness for the enclitic na, a far older negative than "not." Dr. Prevost accounts for the insertion of v here by analogy with "Ah hevn't," but in these cases the v is radical, div being an old strengthened form of do as shown in Moeso-Gothic.

Idiom is still more characteristic than phonetics, and here the parallels are most interesting. No one in touch with Lowland Scots could fail to recognise kinship with these Cumberland phrases:—I'se warrant, seckan a yan (sicna yin), the butcher's killin' es-sel the day, noos and thans, thur ans (thirr ans), pennies a-piece, whiles for sometimes, and the general use of the old preposition un meaning without (Ger. ohne) as a prefix sounding on. In both districts one hears such words as oonpossible, onbonny, ​onneat. There is agreement, too, in the marked preference for the relative 'at instead of that, and the persistence of the plural present of the verb in s. Both are well-known Northern characteristics. Sometimes one sees these historic forms condemned as if they were vulgar English. Thus the phrase, "They were a man," &c., is called bad grammar. What is said is, "Th' wur a man," where we have such an old particle as we find preserved in German da used for inversion of the subject. Just as German has both da and dort, Scots has thae, thirr. "Wur" shows the regular wus changed in the final before a vowel. Other old forms, very common in the Scots of the seventeenth century, survive in Cumberland speech, such as the particles after comparatives, nor, as, be: "It's better ner gud like sugger te taties," "He's keynder as thee tull me," "summat by ordinar," and the genitive without the apostrophe s (t' cow horn). Northern speech never used than after comparatives. When one hears than in Scots it is for then. There are shades of difference here, too. The "as that" in the Cumberland, "He said as that he wasn't cumin," is "'at hoo" (that how) in Lowland Scots. In intensives Scots has the "gayly," "varra" and "fine" of Cumberland, but in addition "fell" (Ger. viel), and "'at weel" (Ger. ja wohl, yes, indeed). Of similar persistence over a wide Northern area are such popular wit as, "Wake as dish watter," "Rowtin like a quey in a fremd lonnin," "Maiden's bairns are aye weel bred," "He's no fed on deef (worm-eaten) nits," "He hardly made sote to's kail," "Better fleitch a feull ner feight 'm," "Aback o' beyont whoar the meer fwoaled the fiddler," "He dissna ken a b fra a bull's feutt," and "He hiss neah maar wit ner's pitten in wi' a speun." The custom of the country substitutes a gander for a hen in the saying, "Dancin like a steg on a het gurdle," while, in both North and South, the following would now have little meaning: "Sweerin like a tinkler," "Teugh as a soople" (thong joining the two parts of the flail).

Extremely suggestive is the subject of Cumberland idiom, especially since it exhibits all the characteristics of Northern English as it has been so well preserved in Lowland Scots. A few significant phrases only can be given, such as "t' words 'at we use in oald Cumberlan'," "ah maks mesel easy," "a gey fine ​day," "siccan a fellow he is," "a few broth," "he'll be five come Lammas, "I'se quite agreeable," "mey peype's langer er (nor) theyne," "who's owt t' dog? It u'll be oor Tom's." The "I'se" above is exactly the Dutch and Boer Ik is = I am, preserving the Northern to be in the present tense. I have been asked by a Kintyre fisherman, "Who belongs that boat?" meaning to whom does the boat belong? He was not any more ungrammatical or illogical than the Cumbrian with his, "Who's owt t' dog ?" to whom is the dog owing? They both use the indeclinable interrogative as a dative. Likely, again, very frequently means "I suppose:" "Mr. S. is away from home likely," does not suggest any uncertainty, nor does "I will see you to-morrow, likely," which quite falls in with the Scottish attitude of noncommittal. The East Coast variant of "lickly" is "mebbe," or, preferably, "mebbes," for "it maybe so." Play oneself: "Barns! give ower! ye've played yersels aneuf noo." In Fife, purpose-like gudewives, greatly vexed with paidlin on the caum-staned doorsteps, would come out and exclaim: "Tak the croon o' the causey, vratches, and play yersels there." Meal's meat, what will suffice for one meal, is in Scotland always a meal o' meat: "Ah wadn't give 'm a meal's meat if he were starvin'." Rackon, to guess, imagine, suppose, has got a new lease of life across the Atlantic: "I'll reckon the' daizter an' dafter," says she, "nor iver I've reckon't the' yit." Up a heet for aloft is a common idiom in Hexham. Dr. Prevost illustrates thus: "Dan gev yah greet lowp ebben up a heet." In the North of England, as often in Scotland, one hears such awkward circumlocutions as Wadn't cud dea 't. The sense is that of moral, not physical, inability—he would be above doing it. "Another expression," says the doctor, "somewhat similar, is, 'Won't can come,'" where, however, the idea of physical inability is intended. The same ideas, expressed in the future tenses, as, "I will not can come," or "Shan't can dea't," are not in use. "Nay, I tell thee he wadn't cud dea't, I'll uphold thee; I ken ower weel for that, wey he wadn't cud din it." The favourite Glasgow circumlocution, "Can I get going?" is as nothing to these.

It says little for human nature that idioms of the colloquially exclamatory nature are more frequently contemptuous than complimentary. We have always with us the man who is only ​too ready to say to his brother, "Thou fool!" In an obscure exclamation, Goavy-dick! common to Fife and the Lothians, and apparently expressing mere surprise, the Cumberland dialect suggests that there is implied contempt. The plain man in the Lothians, suddenly surprised at sight of something comical, naturally exclaims, "Goavy-dick!" In Cumberland a Gauvy is a fool, a simpleton, an open-mouthed fellow: "Thee girt Gauvy, thoo." This is just the English gaby and the French gobe-mouche, the fly-catcher. Gope is to stare with open mouth:—"A gowped at t' chaps 'at war playing sangs." Other forms are in the phrases—"Greet govin fuil!" "Whee was't brong thee a fortune, peer gomas?" "T'ou's ayways in a ponder; ay geavin' wi' thy oppen mouth." In Scotland the metaphor is carried still further. "Git oot o' ma rodd, ye muckle gawpus!" says the stirring gudewife to a loutish, idle fellow, varying it for a lump of a lassie with taupie, French for the mole. In some districts to gob is to spit. The Orcadian gubb is scum, froth, foam. In Nithsdale gowf is to flaunt about, and a gowf is a foolish person. As a mere exclamation, however, and a kindly one, comes the characteristic Border and Lanarkshire lovenanty! the equivalent of goavy-dick! Jamieson's explanation. Love anent you! is too suspiciously neat. We are all familiar with Paisley as the city of "Seestu!" but the exclamation is not confined to that Scottish Helicon. It is very common in Orkney, and has a place in the kindred Norse district, the dales of Cumberland—"Sista, if thoo leaves me, ah'll kill tha;" "Sees te, Bella; nay, but sees te?" So thoroughly does the conventional lay hold of us that one will say even to a blind man, "See that, now!"

To note down the peculiarities of grammar that prevail in the spoken vernacular of the unlettered is a difficult task, but it is a trifle compared to the problems of dialect phonology. And yet while the vocables are being ousted by the ootners—the Cumbrian for Uitlanders—of the school and the newspaper, and the quaint idioms and proverbs and folk-lore slink into obscurity, abashed by the inroads of the railway, the tripper, and the tourist, the pronunciation of the locality seems to cling persistently to the very air and soil. Mr. Dickson Brown's work here is worthy of all praise as a valuable contribution to the ​exploiting of an almost unworked section of the linguistic field. The Cumberland dialect has been moulded by both Anglo-Saxon and Norse influences. To the latter, carried across the Yorkshire fells, is due the favourite abbreviated article t' for the in all positions—e.g. t'teable, t'floor, t'cow horn. Of course the t here is not the initial in the original "that"—still heard in Scotland, as "give me that cleek"—but the final. The first step of the change is seen in "the tane and the tither" for that ain and that ither. The Dutchman keeps it as het, while with the Highlander it is a feeble breath, 'he. The dalesman, though he spells water with a double dental, goes farther even than the Glasgow man in eliminating this letter, witness his favourite laal for little, while he will only say Hoo! for the "Kailyard" Hoo-t-ootts! If this be due to laziness, he takes the extra trouble of saying b for v as eben for even, whereas the Scot gets rid of v between two vowels as often as he can. The dalesman is lazy enough to say reesht and reet for the Scotsman's richt, just as in German dialects nicht drops to nisht and nit. The Cumbrian's enclitic negative is n't; thus he says divn't and disn't where the Scot chooses the better part, dinna and dizna. For the Scot's "u'll no gang" he says "ah willn't gang." In common with the Southron, the presence of r affects him. On the North-east he cherishes the burr, but introduces, where he can, a peculiar after-sound of w, as in cworn for corn, to the fwore for to the fore.

There is a wide field for comparison among the vocables. Many are haimit enough, such as crine (shrink), dorting (ill-humour), dub, fouthie, lum, reek, tine (lose), threep (argue), pree (taste), shade (part hair), snod (tidy). Others differ from Scots in meaning. Kittle is active, never difficult as in Scots; unco is strange, never intensive, as it is in "unco guid;" ploy is employment, not a feast in humble life; oot-weel is wale oot or select; threve is a great number, not a stock or set of corn sheaves. A bole or recess in a wall is so obscure in Cumberland as to require to be called a "booly hole." The Cumb. "This shoe isn't a marras (match) te that," would be in Scots, "...isna the marra o' that," or in the plural, "Thae shuen are no marras." More useful is it to study those obscure words on which Cumberland practice throws light, since there must now be but a ​limited acquaintance with them in Scotland. Some golfers might enjoy this couplet, for we sometimes hear of one lamming into his opponent,—

"Wid t' fwoak lammen intull t' chorus
It was neah whisper ah can tell yeh."

On the North-east Coast one may perhaps find the Burrow Duck called the Stockannet, as still heard on the Solway shore. But a glossary would in most cases be now needed for Scoto-Cumbrian obscurities like lisk (the groin), wipe (a gibe or rebuke), kickin' up a wap (row). Sype in Cumberland is to drain to the last dregs, but in Scots it means to soak. Staw, to surfeit, is genuine Scots, as "Plenty o' butter wad staw a dog." As more or less local survivals in the North take "thyvel, a porridge-stick" (East Fife, theel), "gwote, a gutter through a hedge; if covered in, called a cundeth" (Sc. condie). This last is in Lanarkshire known as a gote or drain. Gutter is another form of the word. Of the numerous uncomplimentary expressions in which dialect revels light is thrown on these obscure Scottish ones: slinge or sloonge, to loaf about, to mouch; doughy or daichie, "A duffy gowk is a great soft fellow;" mayzy or mwozie, dreamy, sleepy. This last is a Galloway and Ulster word. An Ulster man, giving his opinion of a third party, not present, said, "Of all the mozies!" In Cumberland a "mayzlin'" is a simpleton. As a verb it is in the line, "I mazle and wander, nor ken what I's dien."

In one particular the use of the familiar thou, as well as the old English distinction between ye and you, the Cumberland dialect is markedly archaic. Burns carefully retains "thow" in such homely subjects as the ewe Mailie and the Auld Mare Maggie, but it has disappeared from the modern vernacular. While the Cumbrian question, "Ur ye gan teh t'fair?" would be quite familiar in Aberdeenshire, not so the answer, "Mebbe, is thoo gan?" The former shows the pronoun of respect, the latter the true "heimliches Du" of the German. The idiomatic feeling comes out in popular sayings, and here Dr. Prevost's illustration by happy phrases is of the greatest service. Many are good Scots with a difference, such as "sittin to t'bottom" for a pot sittin in, "just noo" for i' the noo, "still an' on" ​(however), "he's a laddie for o' maks o' spwort" for he's a lad at a spree, "barley me that" for chaps me that." Seekin th' milk" for fetching it is characteristically Tyneside. I have heard a nursery tot singing lustily: "Oh my! wat a smell o' sindgin! Battle Hill is all a-fire. Seek the 'attie-indgin." "We stump't away togidder as thick (friendly) as inkle weavers" preserves a lost Paisley industry. A Glasgow man of the eighteenth century conveyed from Holland the secret of weaving coarse tape, long known and peddled over the dales as inkle. The name is preserved as that of a Paisley street to this day. The old Scottish saying, "To lick at the lowder," a variant of "To live at hake and manger," is explained here by the note on lowder as the foundation supporting the nether millstone. The dalesmen knew at one time the tems, a hair sieve, the origin of the phrase " to set the Thames on fire."

Naturally many old Northern words, interesting to the Elizabethan scholar, linger among the dales. Shakspere finds many illustrations here. Billy, common all over the Scottish Border as brother, chum, is Bully Bottom, the weaver; fliar, to laugh heartily, is "the fleering tell-tale" of "Julius Cæsar;" plash, to trim the sides of a hedge, is "the pleached alley" of "Much Ado;" slive, to split, slice, is "the envious sliver" that drowned poor Ophelia. But the Burns scholar is still more indebted to the sidelights of the Cumberland "Glossary." Burneywin is the blacksmith; chufty is fat-cheeked ("chuffy vintner"); ootliggers, or cattle not housed in winter, is the "ootler quey" of "Hallowe'en;" weed-clips is the "weeder-clips" that Burns turned aside from the thistle. Daft Will in "Hallowe'en" "loot a wince," explained here as an attenuated swear-word, used in full in Gibson's "Bobby Banks:" "'Ods wuns (God's wounds) an' deeth!" Every friend of Burns's auld mare will understand the kindly phrase in the Cumberland old song,—

"Tak a reap o' cworn wi' ye,
An' wile her (my meer) heamm, an' wile her heamm."

And when we learn that in the dales titty is a sister, and that "she's deein in a wearin" alludes to a hopeless case of consumption, we understand better two of our finest old songs.

Comparison with the usage of the Scottish border reveals ​but few variants in meaning or form among the common stock of vocables. Of such these few may be noted:—Creuve, a staked enclosure for catching salmon (C.)[1]—a pig sty (B.); dad, obsolete mining term, to shake (C.)—a blow (B.); gliff, a hurried look (C.)—a fright (B.); jag, sucker or rootlet (C.)—a pin prick (B.); jink, move quickly (C.)—avoid by a quick movement. (B.).

Parallels are more numerous. The familiar bien, well-to-do, kindly, has here the sense of obliging, "Theer was niver a kinder, bainer body leevt." The Border phrase "a bob of flowers" for a bouquet is similarly used, witness, "She had put on a great red bob of ribbon on her bonnet." "Chuck," a miner's term for food, suggests a note from my Border friend:—"In an evening school in Glasgow, about twenty-five years ago, asking the meaning of 'delicacies,' I got the answer, 'Fancy chucks.'" "Dub," so widely diffused in the North, is here equally familiar. Anything larger, however, than a puddle of casual water is separately named. When the river banks are high and steep, the word "whol" replaces dub. This, in the form of weel or well, is the regular name for a large pool in the stream of the Tweed. "Fell," the common Scottish and German intensive," has also its Border meaning of strong, hard-working,—

"A fell bit lassie, strong and clear,
But Tibbie was as thrang as ever."—

"Broken Bowl."

The Border phrase, a nibby stick, one with a crook, has the form gibby or kibby in the dales. "To glower oot" is a Border game in which two would stare at each other to see who would wink first. In Cumberland it simply means a fixed, staring look. "Skelly-eyed," both here and on the Border, has the sense of squint-eyed. Finally, the familiar "wap," a disturbance, is paralleled by a miner's description of the tragedy of Othello as "A (blank) wap aboot a pokkit neepyin."

One might pick at random from the "Cumberland Glossary" such parallels with vocables used in Lowland Scotland, more or less modified to suit the different conditions prevailing. Thus we have: Chun, the sprout of the potato; "T' taties are ​sair chunned" or well sprouted. Shaw says: "A term applied to the sprouts or germs of barley, but, as I have heard it, to the shoots of potatoes when they begin to spring in the heap;" which also appears in Jamieson, who adds that it is used in connection with the process of making malt. I always heard the maltman calling these "cummins." They represented the germination of the malt as dried on the floor of the malt-barn.

Cobble, to pave with cobblestones, to stone: "He could tell that they also had another fish in a hole because they were running up and down cobbling it," the poacher's trick to drive the fish out into the shallower water. This is the diminutive of cob, cop, cup, anything rounded, cup-like. Its Boer form is the too familiar kopje. Chaucer's miller had a wart "upon the cop right of his nose." I was forcibly shown what the old-time cobble-hole was when travelling through Antrim. The bundles of flax are kept down in water-pits, during the stage of putrefaction, by rounded stones or cobbles: and as I passed the good Orangemen were busy lifting out the fermenting mass and spreading it abroad to dry, filling the railway carriages the while for many miles with an odoriferous blend as of senna tea and grease fizzling from a hot-plate.

Dow, to be able, to dare, or venture (with a negative),—

"A whusslin lass an' a bellerin cow,
An' a crowin' hen'll deu nea dow."

This fine old word, still in much and daily use in German, is rarely heard now in Scotland. It recalls the well-known Burns couplet,—

"But facts are chiels that winna ding,
An' downa be disputed."

Faymishly, splendidly, "We set off t' merry neet, an' gat to Rostwhate famishly." How readily most of us settle down into the ruts of our pet mannerisms of action or phrase! All human action tends naturally to the automatic. An old weaver had one fixed reply to every opening for a twa-handed crack. To a neighbourly inquiry, "Hoo are ee the day, Dauvit?" came the unfailing response, "Fawmous, mun," which was quite as explicit as Buller's "The men are splendid." In a famous city ​in Fife dwelt worthy 'pothy Smith, whose favourite catch was, "I'm not very sure," and he carried his Scots caution so far one day as to answer to a neighbour's call at the shop door in passing, "Are you in, Mr. Smith?" "Well, I'm not very sure."

Feeky, nervously uneasy, used in reference to senile decay, a development of its familiar force peculiar to Cumberland. "Ah was terrible feeky till Ah hard thee fit in t' entry an' saw theh pass t' allen." Here we have the "ayont the hallan" of "The Cottars," where Hawkie was chewing her cud. This was the treviss or partition separating the but room from the ben. The passage crossing it inside the doorway was called the trance in Scotland, not the entry. A clergyman, familiar with our old-fashioned, long, narrow, dark country churches, tickled his hearers when discoursing on St. Peter's vision by saying that he himself had often preached in a trance.

Fowersom, a set of four,—

"An' a' the foursome gat as merry
As tho' they'd drunken sack or sherry."

Though the dalesman prefers wrestling to golfing, we have here aptly visualised many a comfortable party of happy, middle-aged worthies long past the record-breaking stage. Such a foursome was one day holing out at the Ginger-beer hole of St. Andrews Links, when the respective caddies compared notes. To the inquiry, "Hoo's your men gettin' on, Jock?" came the response, "Dod, but they're doin' fine; they hauved the lest hole in fifteen."

Bare Gorp or Gorlin, an unfledged bird: "Geap, Gorbie, an thou'll get a wurm." "As neakt as a gorlin." This is the "raw gorbit" of our unfeeling youth. It recalls a scene, under a spreading hawthorn tree, when I assisted at the beck of a masterful cousin, considerably my senior, in the fitting out of what we thought a braw butcher's shop, the joints and gigots consisting of callow spyugs and nestling mice, perfect Lilliputian piggies. A pleasanter reminiscence is Dr. George Macdonald's exquisite piece about the bonnie, bonnie dell where the yorlin sings, in an early volume of "Good Words for the Young." His yorlin, applied to the yellow-hammer, must be the Cumberland gorlin, turned to another use.

​Gulls, the Corn Feverfew (Febrifuge, chrysanthemum segetum), a weed which gave much trouble to the Birleymen of the old townships when the crofters were too lazy to clear it out. The word is the same as what we have in yellow and yolk. Shaw says, "Benner-gowan. I have heard this name applied to the fever-few of our gardens;" to which Professor Wallace, his biographer, adds, "Benner—Bennert or Banewort." Banewort is either deadly nightshade or "Ranunculus flammula," and therefore not the same as the Corn Gool.

H is dropped more frequently than it is used. The Scots are mercifully preserved from this variety of "English as she is spoke." Dr. Prevost illustrates thus: "Bessy, boil me a heg." "Father, you should have said an egg." "Then gang an' boil me two neggs."

Havver. Dr. Prevost quotes a saying about the Havver bread, baked twice a year and carefully preserved for luck,—

"If you gang to see your havver in May,
You'll come weeping away,
But if you gang in June,
You'll come back in a different tune."

Havver is oats. The word has long been obsolete, and Burns, in the song, "O, whaur did you get it?" was working on an old model beginning—

"O, whaur did ye get that hauver meal bannock?"

a ballad which suggested to Scott his "Bonnie Dundee." Though not unknown to middle English, havver is distinctly Northern, and leans to a Scandinavian origin. But the Anglo-Saxon "oats" has quite superseded it. The German Hafer is the same word, as also our haversack (lit. oat-bag).

Heft, to restrain, let the cow's milk increase until the udder gets large and hard: "She's heftit of her yooer." The former sense is common over South-Western Scotland. On the East Coast the more familiar usage is swoln in the case of cows, and figuratively in the case of man as here: "A tak ill wi' the firrst o' hairst. A buddie's sae heftit wi' the baps an' the beer, an' fair hippit wi' the bindin'," was the sage reflection of a Fife bandster before the days of the reaping quick-firer. ​Yooer for udder is a good illustration of omission of a dental between vowels; cf. wa'er for water.

Hotch, what the Alston miners call a jig. The Burns reader will remember the midnight Free-and-Easy in Alloway Kirk,—

"Even Satan glower'd and fidged fou fain,
And botched and blew wi' might and main."

The word expresses primarily deep and rapid breathing under excitement, as in "Hech, sirs!" "a hacking cough," "Heigho, the wind and the rain!" and even the "Hoeh!" of the phlegmatic Teuton. The Scot's innate love of graphic metaphor leads him to widen his words with the freedom of an artist. "Any fish in the burn to-day?" "Fish! the pools is fair hotchin'."

Kast, to place peats on end so as to dry them: "A pony cart-load of peats had been cast by his sister." The Lowlander knows so little on this head that he might think it referred to throwing them out of the hole. The word properly implies a change of position, as "a cast in the eye," "a cast ewe," "cast up," and the saw, "Ne'er cast a cloot or May be oot."

K.—This letter was formerly pronounced in knit, knap, and knot. "My grandmother used to articulate easily and without effort the k in knitting, knee" (D. H.). I can distinctly remember that my grandmother said k'nife. An Aberdeenshire Jacobite old lady, long after the memory of the '45 and its repression of Scottish Episcopacy had died out, stoutly refused to honour the Hanoverian, "though Bishop Skinner sud pray the k'nees aff's breeks." A more persistent peculiarity is the omission of the letter t when between vowels, common in Cumberland and with all the slovenly speakers in south-western Scotland. The dalesman's "laal," however, is more easily managed than the Lanarkshire for little: "Axt him if he'd ivver seed laal sprickelt paddicks wid phillybags an' gallasses on." Dr. Prevost explains that "phillybags were long drawers visible below the skirt, formerly worn by boys and girls"—a fashion we all know from Leech's pictures of the early Victorians. But what has "ta Phairshon" to say of this insult? Some of his forebears certainly got short shrift at Carlisle 'Sizes. An English book, ​glossed by a German for his fellow-countrymen, calls a phillibeg a weed worn by Scotsmen. He had got his "weed" from reading in earlier literature such as in "Midsummer Night's Dream:" "Weed (dress) wide enough to wrap a fairy in." The Cumbrian "gallasses" is also Fife for braces or suspenders, and is but a variant of "gallows."

Pawky, too familiar, sly, impudent: "Grace did not trouble herself about the susceptibilities of pawky young monkeys." "They caw't yanudder for aw t' pawkiest rapscallions." This is certainly not the pawky we all have such a respect for. It must be the "paik," a low character of Davie Lindsay's verses, and one of "the poor relations" in words, "with a past."

Skeal or scales, a sort of huts or hovels, built of sods or turfs on commons. This is the Jcelandic "skjol," shelter; "skyling," a screening. As initial "sk" in Scandinavian and Dutch has become "sh" (cf. ski and Eng. shoe), we have here the summer "sheelins" of ballad and song. The hardening of sh, though spelt sch, still holds in Cape Dutch, so that Scheepers should be pronounced Skaepers.

This Norse skjol has assumed various forms among us. In English the sheeling is the sheal, a temporary summer hut, from a root, to cover. Professor Skeat connects the Icelandic skjola, a pail or bucket, with what in Scotland is a skiel or skeel, not at all forms in common use. At one time, however, it did appear among us. When Nansen, after his historic voyage, was entertained by the London Savage Club, the Norse skal was drunk, interpreted rightly enough as a sort of guid-willie waucht or loving-cup. It carries one back to a very different reception of Norsemen, a Scottish one, when the nobles that brought over Anne of Denmark as spouse to James VI. were feasted (1590) in the house of the famous Napier, Master of the Mint, in the Cowgate of Edinburgh. The Provost provided "naprie & twa dozen greit veschell." These were the goblets or skolls (Ger. Schale, cup; cf. scale, shell) which were drained to the king's "rouse" (Hamlet), long known in Scotland by the very name used at the London banquet. In Edmonston's "Shetland Glossary" "scoll" is a round wooden dish.

Skiddaw Gray, a bluish gray colour, a rough gray cloth from Herdwick wool. The Keswick Rifle Volunteers are called ​"Skiddaw Grays" because of the colour of their uniform. Similarly, as a specimen of the "wut" of the man in the street, the Mid-Lothian Militia, special care of the Duke of Buccleuch, were known as the "Duke's Canaries," or, more contemptuously, "Soordook Sogers," from association with the morning milk carts round the Tron Kirk.

Tew, annoyance, distress, fatigue: "Ey! it was a sair tew that." To tease: "T' thowtes o' hevin forgitten sum tewt me t' warst of a'." "Ah fand it gey tewsum wark." We have here—Dr. Prevost has it in his glossary, but adds nothing in the supplement—a word that has many duties and forms in Scots. I believe it has to do with teuk or took, which Shaw explains with Jamieson as a by-taste, a disagreeable taste.

Dr. Prevost, perhaps not unwisely, imposed upon himself certain limitations. Keeping strictly to his text, he makes little use of comparison with cognate dialect matter, and hardly ever says anything as to the history of his words. Here and there, however, there is a something that requires "reddin up." The word "ea" cannot well be both the "outlet of lime-kilns" and the "channel of a stream." The former is the Scottish collier's "in-gaun-ee," but the latter must be a wide-spread term for any running water and of Norse origin in place-names. In the "Supplement" it is "a gap, river mouth." In many parts of Scotland the local burn is called simply "the waa'er." At Eyemouth the villagers always speak of their "Eye" as the Waa'er. The author has, laudably, the courage to note even failures, thus: "Hemmil (obsol.), no description obtainable." But the illustrative passage added shows that it is but a misreading for "skemmel," entered elsewhere. The quotation is: "The sconce, long-settle and hemmil are superseded by more modern furniture." These illustrations, always apt and pithy, form an admirable feature of what is an invaluable contribution to the philology and folk-lore, not only of Scotland but still more, of England.

The volume throws much light on an almost untouched subject—the comparative study of dialects. With the Border, of course, there will be much affinity. The Cumberland stockannet or sheldrake is so named on the Upper Solway, but nowhere else except here and there on the East Coast north of ​Forth, where also any nestling is a raw gorbet, the Cumberland "bare gorp." Of pure Saxon affinities with the Tweeddale there are wig, a tea-cake; hine, a farm-servant; hinny, a term of endearment; and the curious gawm, to give attention to. "He nivver gawmed me" is quite Border. Farther north it is better known as gumption. The root is in the fourth century Gothic translation of the Gospels. The "hypocrites pray at the street corners that they may be seen of men ('ei gaumjaindau mannam')." Jamieson has gum, variance, umbrage, of which Lockhart, writing his account of Union times (1707) says: "Whilst this affair (Malt Tax) was in agitation, as it created a great gum and coldness between members of the two nations, it created a friendship and unanimity amongst the Scots Commons."

The able editors have designedly refrained from speculation on the historic aspects of their subject. The volume is richly suggestive here. Their "wife-day or cum-mether" (Fr. commère) is the Cummers' Feast of Old Edinburgh, a christening ceremony humorously sketched in "A Midsummer Night's Dream." The rannel-trees, alluded to by Davie Deans in the "Heart of Mid-Lothian," are fully explained as a part of the old ingle and chimney-breest. Old farming customs are noted, such as "the deetin (Sc. dichtin) hill," the equivalent of the Scottish Sheelin Law, where the corn was winnowed. The "tummel-car," Burns's "tumlin wheels," we are told, was represented in 1897 by one ancient survivor. "Syme," the straw rope for securing thatch, is the simmons or sooms which the tenants of Caithness had to supply for the laird's stacks a century ago. The "spelk hen," annually due to the landlord for liberty to cut rods for securing thatch, clearly points to the Orcadian spolk, a splint (Eng. spoke, Ger. Speiche, the spoke of a wheel). To this day round Loch Lomond barked oak-branches are called speogs. The Morayshire custom of corn-thiggin, when the poor or thriftless crofter went round the clachan begging a pickle seed, is just the Cumberland "cworn-later" asking at every house for "a lile lock corn" for his first crop. "Lock" here is often heard in Scotland. A "fell lock o' us" is not a corruption of lot, a quantity. It is accounted for by the Orcadian lock, to clutch, seize hold of, the Icel. luka. In Old Edinburgh the Lucken​booths or close shops were so called in contrast to the stalls set up on the street. The "lucken-gowan" is the closed daisy. The latter part of the Cumberland compound "cworn-later" seems to be connected with Go. leithan, to go, Eng. lead, a verb with many derivatives. The Border herd's cruel mode of splitting up birds, frogs, &c., is known in both districts as spang-whew. In Clydesdale, again, a straining sieve is also known as a syle. Stranger, still, is it to find faggot as a term of reproach turning up in Campbeltown, where also skybel is well known as a good-for-nothing. "In lots there were helter-skelter skybels frae Carel" (Carlisle). Norse influence explains these affinities, as also the presence in the North-eastern counties of such Cumberland words as grice and shot, applied to young pigs; gob, spit, foam; geat, a bairn; wax kernels (waxin kernels in Fife) for glandular swellings in the neck; sned, a scythe handle (Kincardine); swine-crü (Fife crüve), a pig-sty; thyvel (Fife theel), a porridge-stick; weyt (Fife wecht), sheep's skin covering a wooden hoop, to lift corn; whicks (Fife quickens), roots of couch grass. It must be the same Northern leaning which accounts for such remarkable German representatives in the Cumberland dialect as byspel, a guy (Beispiel); flittermouse, the bat (Fliedermaus); shirk, a slippery character (Schurke); unfewsom, awkward, unbecoming (Ger. fügsam, pliant); skemmel, a long seat without a back. This last is German Schemel, a seat. Butcher's shambles were stools to show the meat in open booth or market as in Old Glasgow, where they were known as shemels. But the whole volumes are calculated to send one off on a stream of "divagations."

The "Glossary" could not but be suggestive at many points to the student of Scott and Burns. Sackless, innocent, a word now obsolete but used in "Rob Roy," appears in a Cumberland sketch in dialect: "Ah wasn't sec a sackless as he'd teann meh teh be." Curious is it to find the wyliecoat of the "Fortunes of Nigel," and familiar in old literature, still used in Cumberland in its usual sense of an undervest. The "rannel-tree," which Davie Deans uses in his vigorous denunciation of latter-day backsliding in Church and State, is annotated at great length by Dr. Prevost. It was the beam from which hung the inglecrook in the large, open chimney. In "Guy Mannering" a ​randle-tree is a tall, raw-boned youth. One naturally finds more points of relationship with Burns and his open-air and—to use a Greek in default of an English expression—autochthonous muse. In his facetious apostrophe to the unbidden insect guest he spied in church we have three Cumberland words—" . . . an auld wife's flannin toy . . . Aiblins on some duddy boy, on's wyliecoat," Burns, again, in the "Twa Dogs" makes "Cæsar" so frankly human as to hob-nob with "a tinkler-gipsey's messan . . . or tawtiet tyke, tho' e'er sae duddie." Compare this with the Cumberland couplet,—

"Me mudder ment me oald breeks,
An aye bit they wer duddy."

The "messan" of Burns and the "Glossary" was originally a lap-dog from Messina. During Knox's famous interview with Secretary Lethington, the wily diplomat kept toying with a messan on his knee. The two old-fashioned "bannocks" that Burns alludes to—mashlum (of mixed meal) and hauver (oatmeal)—have long ceased and determined in Scotland. Both are Cumberland terms. In "The Cottars," it will be remembered, the Covenanting Psalm tune, Elgin, "beets the heavenward flame," and, again, the house-father wales a reading out of "the big ha' Bible." Two of the words here are annotated in a fashion that throws light on Burns's use of them. Thus the "beeter" attends to the fire that bakes the oatbread. The "beetin stick" was used to stir the fire in the brick oven. A recent publication illustrating "The Cottars" glosses the "ha' Bible" as the one used in the great hall of a mansion. Dr. Prevost's note is more helpful to the student of Burns than this: "The manor house of small manors, now a farmer's house, in contradistinction to a cottage" or humblest rural abode.

Folk-lore offers a rich hunting-ground to the antiquary turned philologist. Here we have embedded the wit and the wan-wit of the "rude forefathers of the hamlet." In this connection Dr. Prevost gives some interesting finger-jingles, product of the upland nurseries—Tom Thumper (a German, speaking English, calls the thumb the thump), Billy Winker, Long Lazor, Jenny Bowman, Tippy Town-end; also, Tom Thumper, Bill Milker, Long Razor, Jerry Bowman, Tip Town-end. The ​following doggerel is in use:—"This (finger) go t' wood. This un says, what t’ do theer? To late mammy; what to do w' her? Sook a pap, sook a pap a' t' way heame." The word "late" here has an interest of its own. Dr. Prevost says it has two significations, to seek and to bring. A Cumbrian will say, "He's gaen to lait a lost sheep," or "He's gaen to lait t' kye in to milk" (Richardson). One is tempted to compare with these the layt in Jamieson, to allure, entice, an old word in Teviotdale, and his "ill-laits," common in Angus for "bad customs." The latter was much used as illaits in Fife for "bad habits." The former Jamieson traces to Icelandic. He says nothing of the expression, "he never let on," "made no remark," when it was expected. It can hardly be the usual let, permit. Kluge, under German laden, to invite, shows that the two senses above are substantially the same in their origin in the Gothic lathon, as in Matt. ix. 13: "nith-than kwam lathon usvaurthans," I came not to call the righteous; in Luke ii. 25: "Symaion beidands lathonais Israelis," in A.V. Simeon, waiting (biding) for the consolation of Israel.

Dr. Prevost supplies an interesting survival of the Gothic lathon, to invite, in the Cumbrian laitin : "In many places in the Lake district, when anyone dies, two persons from every house near are invited to the funeral, and the houses within the circle are termed the Laitin."

An interesting group of vanished Scots can be culled from the dalesmen. To scarce a living Scot is the squirrel known, as he was of old, by the name "con." A Cumberland contributor says, "'Fat as a con' is a simile I used to hear thirty years ago" (1845). "Hind," the A.S. hyne, a manager of an off-lying farm, is now heard only on the Scottish Border. Two Scoto-French expressions, of old very common in Scotland, are quoted from the dales. "Plague gang wi' them that tooly wi' thee," preserves the Scots tulzie, a quarrel, street-fight. Still more archaic is "Pie Powder," the ancient Court instituted when the Peace of the Fair was proclaimed. It settled all brawls and disputes over bargainings in which the outlander pedlar was involved. He was known as Pied Poudré or Dusty Foot.

While much of folk-lore is extremely local, much of it again ​seems to be almost world wide. We all know the Benjamin of the family hand, Wee Willie Winkie, and the little Piggie-Wiggie that cried all the way home. The Boer Tante amuses the wee kerel on the stoep with tales of "Pinkie," the little finger. I suppose there are still kindly mothers of the old-fashioned sort, who, baby on knee and ready for By-by! take the warm little tootsies, one in each hand, and make them go through a wondrous pantomime from dainty, coralline tips to rosy heel, to the jingling rhymes, lips parted, and heaven-lit eyes aglow: "John Smith, a falla fine, can ee shoe thiss hoarss o' mine? (In largo measure.) Yiss, indeed, an' thaat a' caan, juist as weel as ony maan (larghetto). Pitt a bit upoan the tae, te garr the pownie speel the brae (andante). Pitt a bit upoan the heel to garr the pownie pace weel (allegretto), pace weel, pace weel (allegro), with lively upsie-daesies!)" The folklore of school time is another wide and interesting theme. At St. Bees School the master was familiarly known as Nicks, which Dr. Prevost bases on the expression to keep nicks, to keep account or tally by nicks or notches, natural enough among shepherds who counted by scores on the crook. Keep in the sense of to mind, mend, look after, was very common long ago. Sir John Foulis, in his "Ravelstoun Diary," has now and again the item "for keeping my watch." "Boys keep nicks," continues Dr. Prevost, "when watching the schoolmaster, and 'nicks' is equivalent to 'cave':" "While anudder kept nicks, watching up an' doon street." The term is extended to the corporation schoolmaster, the policeman: "Twelve nixes manhannl'd by yah man," seems a ridiculously easy victory for the hooligan. To be nicked, i.e. caught, or hit, was a common expression during the war. It may even be implied in "Auld Nick," the catch-poll of souls. A good tuck-in is as dear to the schoolboy as a lively shindy. Hence it is natural to note: "'Mint-cake,' a sweetmeat, made by boiling down soft brown sugar and water until a firm but 'short' mass was formed, strongly flavoured with peppermint, in shape two inches square and a half thick; somewhat resembling toffy, but not so hard and crystalline; sold at two squares for a halfpenny"—communicated by Miss Armstrong. The luxury of my youth was "clack," known elsewhere as "gundy," and being a messy preparation in much favour with the girls. These were ​home products. A specific sure to mollify a colded throat was sugar-awlie," sold in short, black sticks, stamped at one end. The Glasgow sweet, known in the trade as Tchuch Jeens, is known to me only by name.

The biscuit and sma'-breed trade, now enormously developed, has quite transmogrified the old-time fly-blown window-watchers. Where are now the plump wee brown rabbits with currants for eyes, the nickit baiks, the rings powdered with pink sugar, the cheesies, Cupar hardies, and the ginger-breed demons? These last, standing grim and black, arms defiantly akimbo, and goggle eyes, so impressed a bit lassie one day that, barely reaching the counter with her bawbee, she asked the village Johnnie Aw-thing for "ain o' thae hawpny deevils," so familiar were we long ago with the deep things of theology. And yet our kindly English critics speak with commiseration of our dismal creed. I remember, when in a sweetie shop in Heidelberg, being surprised and amused as a little boy, putting down a kreuzer or two and receiving three sweets in exchange—Protection in Germany takes care of that—exclaimed with disgust, "Ah, wot a horrid shame, Herr Schmidt!" Nowadays the sorrows of exam-driven youth are tempered by the delicacies of Signor Nicolini, the ice-cream man. I know the slider merely by name, but apropos of it here are some of the words of Oald Cummerlan, illustrating its dialect forms and uses. "Wor hes thoo been aw this time, thoa sledderkin thoo; thoo's a fair sledders an' nivver like ta git back woriver thoo gangs till;" "T' aad fella dizz nout but sledder about an smeuk;" "Wi' taes aw sticking through my shoes I weade among the slatter;" "T'wedder was slattery, t'rwoads was slashy." An old-fashioned bailie, before the days of public festivities, spoke of oysters as "nae better nor slithery, fushionless glaur."

The "Cumbrian Glossary" is rich in illustration of folk-lore. Children's games afford ready proof. A safety-valve under the stern discipline was the barrin-oot at Pasch (Easter), or Candlemas in Scotland, and at Christmas in England. "It was customary for the boys inside school to sing, "Pardin, maister, pardin, Pardin for a pin; If ye won't give us helliday, We'll nivver let ye in.'" "Barrin-oot" was practised in Roxburghshire on 21st December 1907. The "beut-money," customary of old over the ​higgling of the market, is practised at school in Teviotdale when pupils are exchanging articles of different value (niffering). The "fair horny," or appeal in these cases to honest dealing, is in Cumberland used by colliers in dividing mutual gains. The leaping game of "feut-an'-a-half" is played alike on both sides of the Border. To the many Cumberland child-rhymes I add this from the Border,

"Ane's nane, twae's some,
Three's a pickle, four's a crumb,
Give's a cuddy's lade."

The old game, "Scots and English," is known in Cumberland as "Watch Weds." Each side put its caps at equal distances from a dividing line drawn on the ground between the rows. Pillaging then went on across the line. If one were caught, he was retained prisoner. In "wed" here we have the familiar wad, a pledge or surety.

The folk-lore of play never travels far from its native district unless on the strong current of the very modern Golf Stream. Cumberland boys, of course, know all about marbles, which they assort as alleys, steanies, and gingers or pots. The last was a rough, common marble of red half-baked clay and partially glazed. Steanies were brightly coloured, very hard, and highly glazed: "Hoo mony steany marbles do ye gi' for a ho'penny?" The rough horse-play of the grown-ups, the halflins or hobbledehoys, is hinted at in the once popular but now obsolete amusement, "girnin throo a braffin"—the Scots brecham or horse-collar. This is the comic side of the much older and really tragic, but seemingly off-hand, description of death on the gallows: "girnin in a widdie," or rope of hazel twigs.

No account of old-time pleasures in the uplands would be complete without some allusion to poaching. The humours of local government through the Great Unpaid were never more neatly hit off than in the speech: "When ah's a magistrate ah'll luik ower sec things as sniggin an' nettin." Sniggin was catching salmon as they lay in the pools by means of a bunch of hooks, "t'west Coomerlan flee." These rake-hooks sniggled over the bottom like eels, "snig” being an obsolete name for a young eel. In those old days work and pleasure were blended ​in kindly fashion. No one contributed to this more than the peripatetic tailor, ever a welcome visitor to the upland dales: "Travelling artisans—tailors, shoemakers, and saddlers—went to the houses of the country people to work, taking with them their own material. They were paid so much a day and their 'meat.' This custom was formerly very common hereabouts, but it is not so much followed now." It was called "ť whip t' cat." All over Old Scotland the "customer" tailor, working for customers, was known as Whip-the-Cat. A correspondent said it primarily meant to "thrash with flail." One certainly fails to see why the "harmless, necessary" house-friend is chosen to symbolise itinerant labour.

Mining is the serious occupation of the Cumberland district, and here there are interesting notes. The "in-gaun-ee" of our colliers is explained by "ea," a gap, inlet, or gateway, used by miners with reference to a pit. "It was i' t' boddom ee at t' Park." New light is also thrown on the method of working known as "stoup an' room." "If in driving a level in the lead mines it is necessary at any point to carry the working upward and continue in a plane parallel to the original level, the material underlying the new level is a stoup. From these levels short cross-cuts were made into the vein." Of course, a room is any empty space, as "your room's better nor your company." Anyone can see that the Dutch-Frisian race that introduced mining and industries generally into Fife and the Lothians was closely akin to the Norse settlers in Cumberland and Westmoreland. Nay more, this very word "stoep" was transferred to the South African veldt. On the Boer homestead or place, as he calls it, the doorway on his raised first-floor has exactly such a stoup as is above described, with a double sloping approach to it, as is still to be seen in many old mansion-houses at home, and public buildings in Holland and North Germany. Such a stoup is shown in views of the old Court-house at the Tron of Glasgow, used alike for hustings, speeches, magisterial functions, and even executions.

Farm life has always been a stronghold of rural conservatism. One would hardly expect a survival anywhere of the sport of bull-baiting, yet the Cumbrian phrase, "Shak t' bull-ring," applied to the challenger at the village fair, analogue to the ​Irishman's "Tridd on the tail of me coat," seems to preserve the custom. Curiously the Kelso March market is to this day known as the Bull Ring. The homely "coo-lickt," for hair that would part only in one place, is familiar in Teviotdale. The Cumberland euphemism for an illegitimate, "cum by chance," the Borderer applies, as "come o' wills," to potatoes left in the field and growing up in the following year. His "hick nor ree," said to a cart horse as a guide to left or right, is the Border phrase, "neither hup nor hie," or neither right nor left. Another farm variant is rig-welted, said of a sheep lying on its back and unable to get up, and so the Scottish awal. It is formed of rig, the back, and welter, to roll.

Weather-lore has always been in great favour with the rural wise. "Morland fleud ne'er did good," refers to the damage done in a hilly district by Lammas spates and the bursting of water-spouts. All along the foot of the Ochils widespread havoc has been caused in this way. On 4th October 1775 the Tyne at Haddington rose seventeen feet. But the record flood is the memorable one that Sir Thomas Dick Lauder described so well. One can still, on crossing the new bridge at Forres, note the almost incredible height to which the Findhorn suddenly rose in 1829. Any abnormal summer, or want of it, has aired much weather-lore such as this,—

"If t'esh sud hud afore t'yek,
Oor feyne summer wedder'll hoddenly hrek;
But if t'yek bud be seuner cummer
We'll sartinly hev a drufty summer."

The Cumberland glossary says that hoddenly is frequently, continuously, without interruption: "He's hoddenly been a good husband to me." Hodden, sair hodden, in straits to accomplish a task: "Ah was hard hodden to keep mi tongue atween mi teeth an' keep frae tellin' mi mind." This reminds one of Scott's fool, who had little to complain of as fetch-and-carry for the farm toon, save that he was "sair hodden doon wi' the bubbly Jock."

​

2. Braid Scottis in the Transvaal.

We have had not a little information about the Transvaal from within, but next to nothing about the language of the Boers. And yet there are few more direct roads to the true inwardness of the character and sentiment of a nation than its vernacular. It must be confessed, however, at the outset, that it is a somewhat indirect method of approaching the subject to sit at home here and discuss the speech of the Boer without ever having had an opportunity of hearing a Boer speak. Failing this, I take up my standpoint on a keen interest in Lowland Scots, spoken and written, and with this I propose to compare the Cape Dutch, or Kaapsch, as the Hollander calls it. Towards this aim has been contributed the generous aid of an Afrikander now in Cape Town, and of another who has left the Transvaal after long residence there. Finally, an old and valued friend, the late Heer E. P. Dumas, of Rotterdam, and formerly of Glasgow, lent me of his wonderful resources, both in Dutch and English, and especially sought out for me an admirable guide in "How to Speak Dutch," by Professor W. S. Logeman, B.A., and J. F. Van Oordt, B.A. This excellent manual, published at Amsterdam and Cape Town, second edition, 1899, gives throughout practical conversation in Dutch and Cape Dutch. I have kept almost entirely to the vocables and phrases found in this book.

(a) The Taal.

For a century the Dutch Afrikander has been practically cut off from his ancestral home in Holland. Doubtless his Church, its Bible, and its preachers, have served to keep unbroken a chain of communication, ever lengthening by time and distance, and this kind of influence must have told specially in language. But both the religion and the language have undergone a much more rapid change at home in Holland than out on the sparsely-peopled Veldt of South Africa. The consequence is that both are old-fashioned and homely, and therefore admirably suited to the mental and spiritual attitude of the pastoral Boer. With a creed that has ceased to develop, and without a home-grown literature, he has clung all the more fondly and tenaciously to ​the antique vernacular which he has inherited from his forefathers. He calls it lovingly die ou'we or oude Taal, using, to name it, the root we have in tell and tale. In German still, and in English of old, it meant to count, but the operations of reading and counting in many languages appear readily to overlap and commingle. The Taal scarcely deserves the hard words that have been applied to it as a barbarous and uncouth polyglot. The Scot can well sympathise with such treatment, for the Englishman, disdaining to try to understand his dialect, calls it unintelligible, vitiated English, and when he does condescend to make a lever de rideau out of it, mangles it through his perverse habit of mispronunciation. The Dutchman looks upon the Taal in much the same light. An intelligent Hollander writes me thus: "I hate and detest the Boer idiom, which is a repulsive amalgam of old and modern Dutch, with traces of Platt-Deutsch and English, and only good, or rather bad enough, to disappear from among the races of mankind." This is of value, merely as emphasising my point, that the appreciation of vernacular is incompatible with the attitude of what arrogates to itself a claim to progress and culture. The Taal has merely undergone natural changes on old lines, but less rapidly than Dutch. It has borrowed a little from English, and almost less from Kaffir, for no people ever learns much from a race on a lower plane of culture than its own, though the two may be commingled. The Highlander and Lowlander have always had very close intercourse at many points, but English and Scottish borrowings in Gaelic vastly outnumber Gaelic terms in Scots or English.

The Taal, or Kaapsche,[2] as the Hollander calls it, has closer affinities with Lowland Scots than with any other European tongue, except Dutch. Its resemblance to German is mainly superficial. Certainly the philologist is constantly reminded of German in studying the Taal, but the uneducated Boer or German speaker would quite overlook this, for their consonantal systems are entirely different. On the other hand, the Frisian speech was, in very early times, common to the eastern and ​western shores of the North Sea, and these shores were more nearly opposite, and united therefore more closely by trade, on the side of Scotland than of England. In addition, the two peoples enjoyed substantially the same Calvinistic type of Church, a type which has been even better preserved in South Africa than in either Scotland or Holland. Certainly, during the first half of the eighteenth century, a Scotsman would find himself vastly more at home in Leyden, Rotterdam, or Amsterdam than he would in London, or even Newcastle. The Boers themselves are well aware of this bond of union. The German overseer in Olive Schreiner's "Story of an African Farm" tells the knave, Blenkins, when introducing him to the Boer woman, Tant Sannie, to call himself a Scotsman. The English she hates.

It is a well-known characteristic of the Boer that he dearly loves to walk in the old ways, and of these not the least cherished is his vernacular. A few of the old-fashioned among ourselves similarly cling fondly to their "braid Scottis," but they are a fast vanishing quantity. The Boer always thinks and speaks of his Taal or speech as die ou'we, his familiar abbreviation of old. Like the Scot he is fond of dropping l. Thus in a version of "The Cottar's Saturday Night," by Reitz, devoted henchman to Kruger, he makes "the sire," die ou man, read een sions lied (song) in d'Ouwe Taal, when "he wales a portion of the big ha' Bible." This Taal is the Dutch of a century ago, modified by the phonetic corruptions natural to the changed surroundings and languid life on the Southern Veldt, and mingled with such English and Kaffir as is necessary for intercourse with the Uitlanders, to whom the old burgher's attitude is as proudly conservative as that of any Prussian junker or Highland duine-wassel, the over-lord whom the Norse imposed upon Celtic communistic life. This type of the full-flavoured Transvaaler is the Dopper Boer, an epithet that has sadly fallen in English, suggestive as it is of that Simon Tapper-tit who was the redoubtable hero of "Barnaby Rudge." In Dutch, however, it still retains all the dignity of its German cognate, tapfer, brave and valiant. From Dutch New York we have got it in the very modern toff. But it is still a Scottish dialect word. In Dumbartonshire as a note of admiration one hears, "My! ​that's a topperer," with a verb also, to toper, to surpass, to clinch. The Cumberland man applies "topperer" to any thing or person that is superior,—

"The king's meade a bit of a speech,
An gentlefwok say it's a Topper."–

Anderson's "Cumberland Ballads."

The Dopper Kirk is the highest expression of this exclusive unco-guidness, which also so markedly characterised the true-blue Hillman of the seventeenth century. And with reason, for both can trace their dourly militant Calvinism to the same source—the Hollanders that baffled the legions of the Spanish Inquisition. The Scottish Church in Rotterdam has for three centuries marked the close affinity between Scot and Dutchman. Here Wallace, leader of the hapless Pentland rising, was a ruling elder, and so also was Hamilton, of "Old Mortality" fame, that wilful but unfortunate leader who so bungled the defence of Bothwell Brig. Here, too, John Brown of Wamphray ordained Richard Cameron in 1679, to fall desperately afterwards at Airdsmoss in 1681. From the Hillmen were recruited those doughty fighters, the Cameronians. The term Dopper, applied to Dutch Calvinism in the Transvaal, is in no sense ecclesiastical, though one sees it sometimes interpreted as the Quaker, and again as the Baptist Church. There is really nothing to support either interpretation.

If we are to get along with the Dutch of the Cape we had better try as soon as possible to understand this Taal to which they cling so fondly. For nothing so wins the affections and sympathies of a race with whom our lot may be cast as showing a kindly interest in their homely speech. Unfortunately the average Englishman is too apt to dispose of a strange tongue as simply a "rum lingo" and not worth mastering. Similarly to the Greek, everyone who did not understand his language was classed as a barbarian, a babbler. In the case of an Asiatic, a Polynesian, or a Negro dialect there is some excuse for indifference, but the Afrikander's speech is only indirectly a foreign tongue. Apart altogether from those borrowed words that reach us through education and trading intercourse, English and Dutch are structurally akin, belonging as they do to cognate ​branches of the great Teutonic family. Though in usage the Afrikander's vocables largely follow German, his consonantal system is frequently identical with English. Thus he speaks of somer and winter, dag and daa'e (g elided) and nooit, hart and bleed, vleesch and bane, steen and leem, vuur and water, and ijs, melk and hotter, and brood and drank, a Bijbel and a boek—all easily recognisable under the thin guise of altered spelling and pronunciation. His familiar epithets are obviously akin to ours, such as—

Taal. Sc. Eng.
jong yung young
niuwe noo new
warm warr'm warm
keel cüle cool
siek seek sick
wel weel well
fijn fine fine
doof daef deaf (deff)
wit white white (wite)
grijs grey grey

The wearing-down process is very apparent in epithets like goeje (good), rooje (red), breeje (broad), weije (wide), ouwe (old), koud (cold). The Scottish vernacular does not go quite so far, though one may hear 's-awfyka' the day for "It's awfully cold to-day." On the other hand, an unnecessary dental was added as in publict, witht. Such forms are found late in the eighteenth century. A medial guttural is also objectionable to the Boer. Thus he says daa'e for daage (days), and oo'ies for oogies (eyes), and even a final g may go as in lui, lazy, where we have an interesting modification of the syllable seen in English lag and laggard.

Action words also show close resemblances, such as we find in leef (live), groei (grow), kom, gaan (go), ken (know), vergeet, vergee (forgive), dek (deck), bloos (blush), sit, staan (stand), seg (say), and leg (lie). "Words for relationship exhibit equally affinity and lazy articulation—va'er (father), broer, neef (nephew), but others have been little changed, as moeder, suster, and sussie, seun, dochter. In North-eastern Scotland dialectic variations ​show forms like fader, breeder, neeper (neighbour). This last, again, is the Irish "Napper Tandy" in the "Wearin' o' the Green." South African speech has further remarkable affinities with Scottish dialects. "Is dit die naaste pad?" for Is't the nearest (nighest) path or road? might almost be heard here at home. We regularly find neest for nearest in Scottish verse. "When one hears in some country districts in Scotland such words as nearder and faarder for nearer and faarer (Eng. farther is wrongly formed), one is apt to regard them as ignorant corruptions, but they are really double comparatives (naa-re-d-er, faar-re-d-er), showing the older affix—re as in more—and the latter er with d inserted to separate the liquids. Now in Dutch it is the rule to insert d before er in adjectives ending in re, as vere, verder (far, farther) and zwaare, zwaarder (sweerer).

The wearing-down process is still more apparent where affinity with German is most direct. Thus we have na'ant (guten Abend, good evening), eers (erste, first), lus (Lust, pleasure). klere (Kleider, clothes), rus-plaas (Rust-platz, rest-place), rek (reeht, right), eenvoudig (einfaltig, onefold), gen (kein, no), blij (bleiben, remain), glo (glauben, believe), krij (kriegen, obtain), spreck (sprechen, speak), slaan (schlagen, strike), snij (schneiden, cut), verjaa (verjagen, drive off). But the consonantal changes generally incline to the English or Low rather than to the German or High Dutch type, as these examples show: Oudste or ouste (älteste, oldest), deur (Thüre, door), ook (auch, eke), diep (tief, deep), twede (zweite, second). It is curious to find that Cape Dutch, like Scots, prefers to harden initial sch into sk in contrast to German, as shown in skrij (Sc. skrive, Ger. sehreiben, write) and schade (Sc. skaid, Ger. Schade, damage). As Heeren Logeman and Oordt say, the rule is absolute, we ought to call the prominent politician Schreiner, Skreiner, in Taal fashion, and this connects the name with the old Scottish trade of the skriners, originally shrine-workers, and latterly cabinet-makers.

The most interesting affinities of the Taal are with Lowland Scots, and this quite apart from borrowings. One of the most characteristic features of our dialects is the fondness for diminutives to north of Tay, evidently a survival of Norse and Frisian influences. This is well marked in the Taal as in merrie (mare), beitjie (bit), meisie (miss), wortjie (word), hartjie (heart), kereltje ​(carlie). In some cases one hears even the Scottish tones of the voice as in—

Taal. Sc. Eng.
huis hooss house
muis mooss mouse
vrind freend friend
en an' and
kērel caerl carle
seker siccar secure
een ane one
heel hale whole
meer mair more
groote grit great
such sooch sigh
kijk keek (look)
sweet sweet, swaet sweat
crau craw crow
dwijn dwine (pine away)
wijt wyte (blame)
bees beas (s. and pl.) beast
ure oor hour
juist jüst just
zoolang so long! good by!
duik dook duck (dive)

If we consider slight variations in sound, with or without change of sense, further resemblances arise. Thus we find elk for the Scottish ilka (each), speul, to play, for speel, to climb; spoor, a trace, for speer, to find out by asking; hou (hold) for hud, and ge' for gied (gave), both with dropped dental; stuit, to knock up against, for stot, to rebound; duiwel, the devil, for deevil; loup, to go, or run for loup, to jump. Boer preferences, even, seem to run on Scottish rather than Dutch lines, witness his persistent choice of maak (make) rather than the Hollander's do. Even phrases have a familiar ring to the Scotsman's ear, as "een gang o' water " (very hard to put concisely in English), or "jij moet huis toe gaan" (ee mon gang to ee hoose). When in Fergusson's "Leith Races" we read: "The races done, we hale the dules wi' drink o' a'-kin kind," we have a genuine Taal phrase, "haal die doel," to reach the aim or goal. The dulls are still familiar to ​schoolboys as standpoints in the game of rounders. A Scot might say with a Boer, "Dat's het" for "That's it," while such phrases as these translate themselves: Hoe veel wil u be? Ik is met pa; wat meen jij? Hé je een beitjie brood voor mij?

In grammar the resemblances between the Taal and Scots are equally striking. The double negative is frequently used in both, as "It'll no be hizz nether." The Northern English substantive verb uses is throughout, and this is the rule in Cape Dutch: "Ik is een arm man," I am a poor man; "Die tije is zwaar," The times is hard (sweer). The verb have is either hae or het, singular and plural, as "Ons het al-tijd iets te mis voor een arm mens," Hizz hae all-tide something tae spare for a poor man; "Die kinders het vrinde genog," The children have friends enough. So one hears in Scotland, "Oor bairns hizz (or hae) naethin' to maak a wark aboot." The Boer preserves the subjunctive as Burns and older writers do: "Ik ga niet uit want (Ger. wenn) ik ben ziek," I go not out if I be sick. A parallel idiom is, for the time of day, half two (half-past one), twal oor (midday, twaalf uur, in Taal).

In one respect the Taal has the advantage of the Scots vernacular. As a living speech it grows and adapts itself to new conditions. How modern are these words and phrases, alike in their old-world guise!—faar-keeker, a telescope; spoor-boekjie, a time-table; on-smet, to disinfect; snij-dokters, cutting doctors, surgeons; ik shorthand ken en kan typewrite. One looks, also, to such elements as metaphors, proverbs, and the like for evidences of vitality in a language. The Boer's blad stil (blade still) strikingly depicts a dead calm. These popular sayings are simple, but expressive:—

Zoo vast as een klip=so huge as a cliff

(cf. "The shadow
of a great rock").

Zoo„ vastslim as„ een„ klipjakhal=sly as a jackal.
Zoo„ vaststil as„ een„ klipmuis=quiet as a mouse.
Zoo„ vastzach as„ een klipveeren=soft as feathers.
Zoo„ vastdood as„ een klipeen klip=dead as stone.
Zoo„ vastkoud as„ een klipijs=cold as ice.
Zoo„ vastoud as„ een klipdie Kaap=old as the Cape.

Een kerel as een boom=a fellow like a tree, a blockhead.

​Proceeding in less obvious directions, we meet with many Boer words that are rich in suggestions of old-world ways and words in Lowland Scotland. This is true even where comparison with German is directly involved. Thus the Volksraad or council of the folk points clearly to German Rath, counsel, but it lived almost to our day in Scotland. Burns in his "Epistle to a Young Friend" says, "And may you better reck (heed) the rede (counsel) than ever did the adviser." Its kindred sense of good order survives still as in the phrase, "to redd up (tidy) the house." The champion of the Raad had an obviously German name, Krüger, a tapster, but this again is from Krug, well known in Scotland as crock, a mug or tankard. Since this served as a sign, a krug is in Dutch also a common public-house. The regular Dutch for crockery is crock-werk. Leem, or clay, was a seventeenth-century borrowing from Holland, for Sir Robert Sibbald in his "Stirlingshire" tells us where laim was made in the county. Grigor says ("Glossary of Buchan Dialect") that in Buchan it now means a broken piece of crockery. It is difficult to associate the simple, patriarchal, pious Boer with a taste for the alehouse, but those familiar with him do not hesitate to say that he is sometimes "under the influence." Anyhow, he knows the Dutch for a village alehouse, kneipe, familiar, as a comparatively recent borrowing from Holland, among German students, who revel in their Bier-kneipen. One is tempted to connect it with "the reamin nappie" of Burns. To judge by the Buchan use of nappie it primarily refers to the jug and not the liquor it contains. The Boer has two words for a dram—a sopje and a slag. Thus in "A Veldt Official" a Boer says, "Come in and have a glass of grog, Musgrave; we'll have our sopje anyhow." It suggests the soupe that old Hawkie afforded in "The Cottars," though this was in the innocent form of milk. The Taal "slag" is just the familiar Scottish slocken, to quench thirst. In Shetland sluck is to gulp in drinking. And as gorge and gully both involve the metaphor of a throat-like pass, so slack is common in place-names for a defile. Thus we have the farm of Gate Slack in the long glen or Pass of Dalveen, of which Burns sings in "Last May a Braw Wooer."

The Boer is essentially a nomad, taking naturally to a roving life in his waggon with all his dependants, as did his remote ​Gothic ancestors when they moved slowly but irresistibly westwards across the great plain of Europe even to the shores of the North Sea. But the monotony of his outlook over the arid, treeless veldt is very different from that of his remote ancestor, hemmed in by the weird gloom of the primeval forest, where lurked the wolf and the bear and the wild boar. The climate compels him to be on the move still. At the end of April he packs up his waggons on the high veldt where he has spent the summer, shuts up his house, and treks to the lower or bush veldt for the winter feeding. The rains set in at the end of September, when he returns to his house with his belongings. This is a primitive custom of northern lands adapted to new conditions. The "summer sheelins" lingered longest in the Highlands, but they were general in Old Scotland. In the "Complaint of Scotland" (1545?) there is a delightfully realistic description of this popular custom, which did more than all else put together to foster the popular literature of ballad, song, dance, and folk-lore generally. But of this aspect there seems to exist only Psalm-singing among the Boers. Another seasonal word, oogst, harvest (oo'st tijd, in the Taal), has also been transferred by the first settlers to their new home under the Southern Cross, for it is but another form of August. This oo'st of the Boer is the old French Aoust (Août) of his Dutch Huguenot ancestors. The original significance of the term must long have been forgotten, for this month is nearly mid-winter in South Africa.

An officer in the first Boer War graphically sketches the landscape on the veldt ("Blackwood's Magazine," 1880-81): "You may travel a hundred miles without seeing a tree. Houses are ugly cottages, with low roofs of galvanised iron, so low as to escape notice altogether but for the clump of blue gums beside them" (cf. "Cottar's Saturday Night,"—

"At length his lonely cot appears in view
Beneath the shelter of an aged tree").

"A few acres not far off are under the plough. Through the middle of the scene is a stream or bog, from which water is got. Round a part of it runs a stone wall to keep the cattle out. The windows of the house have four small panes. Pigs, cows, and dogs and children run at large together. The roads are a bit ​ of dirty tape thrown down carelessly on the veldt, and not even pulled tight. Waggons are always straying from the track for firmer ground. In bottoms flows a marshy spruit or burn. Where there is a drift or ford this is churned into pools, where may be a dead ox is lying." If we substitute thatch for the galvanised roof this might pass for a description of much of Scotland, even so recently as last century. In fact it is a graphic picture of an old-time Highland clachan set amid its background of local colour. Certainly wheeled vehicles in Old Scotland were fewer, but the bridle tracks sought the firm high ground as independently, avoiding the bogs where the cattle might be lairdet (bemired). The ford was as troublesome as the drift, and equally a source of danger or delay when a spate came down. The Boer transferred the name veldt from his northern home. It is the Norwegian and Scottish fell. An obscure survival of it in Scotland is haemit, a peculiarly expressive word for what is homely and familiar. A less contracted form—haemilt—prevails in the North-eastern counties, where it means pasture adjoining an enclosure. In Icelandic it is heimilt, a contraction for the heim-veld. One familiar only with haemit might well take haemilt to be a corruption instead of the purer and older form.

The Boer farming customs are much like those of Old Scotland, where the farm land was divided into the infield or arable portion, enclosed by a fael or turf dyke, and the outfield or open grazings on the moorland. The name itself, as bower, is regularly used in Ayrshire for a dairy farmer on the steelbow, Fr. métayer, system. Near the homestead was the loanin or haemilt where the cows were kept at milking-time or during the heat of the day; and this ground, being thus heavily manured or tothed, as it was called, raised the best bere crop of the following season. In the dry air of the veldt the cow-dung is invaluable as fuel, but in bygone Scotland it was too frequently thrown into the burn, which was as little conserved as a Boer spruit. This word is well known in Scotland, though in a different sense, that is, as the spruit or spout of a kettle. Before the introduction of draining many were the wet spots where the rushes grew in such plenty that the general name for the plant was sprits Originally sprit meant to spurt or squirt out water ​(Du. spruiten, Ger. spriessen). In English the root was transferred to growing, hence sprout. The Banff hill farmer applies it to a particularly tough, strong rush which he twists into ropes. "Spritty knowes" or wet, rush-grown spots (water springs) were only too common in the pre-draining days. Burns, too, tells how his mare Maggie stoutly "spread abroad her well-filled briskit" and pulled the plough over "the spritty knowes." The favourite term in the West of Scotland for the kettle nozzle is not sprout but stroup, of Norse origin. The "Bachelor to his Bellows" in "Kilwuddie" sings,—

"Rayther than see a frien' sae leal
Gang ony siccan roads,
I'd mak a poker o' yer stroup,
Twa pat-lids o' yer brods."

A ditch, again, is a sluit, an old Dutch and Boer word familiar in Scotland for a mill-lade as being controlled by a sluice. The Sclate, or old burgh, mill of Irvine probably meant originally the mill on the sluit.

The nomadic habits of the Boer are reflected in his language. To go on foot is to be a thief and a liar, as are all pedlars and gangrel bodies, such as were those sorners who were hunted off to their own parish in Old Scotland. Every honest Scottish farmer must ride his own nag with sonsy goodwife on the pillion behind, even though that were only a turf seat, the sonks that we read of as doing such service. At the kirk-stile and before the ha'-house stood the loupin-on stane, the counterpart of the Boer stoep. This is not a Celtic racial feature but a Norse one, for the Highlander has always been an infantry man, and kept his garron merely for the pack-saddle. On St. Michael's Day in Norse Scotland everyone in the township had to mount and enjoy a mad gallop. Riding the marches is still a great holiday in some Lowland towns, and the broose is not long extinct, in which the wild stampede of the bridal party from the kirk to the home earned for the first comer his bottle. To his horse the Boer applies a modification of the German Pferd in the form of paard or pêrt. Cronje made his last desperate stand at Paardeberg, the hill of horses. So much a part of the Boer's ​life is his horse that he says, "Ik het een honger as een paard," for our "hungry as a hawk." But the bridle is known as toom, identical with the English team, though in a different sense. As in all primitive communities, the thong is the handiest material for cordage, and this is the Boer reim or reimpjie. "He had knee-haltered the animal with too great a length of reim. . . . Tom, the Kaffir boy, was dressed in the ordinary slop clothes of a store, more or less tattered, and more or less ingeniously repaired with bits of reimpjie" ("A Veldt Official"). In German the word is Riemen, but is also Old English. As it is properly applied to long, narrow strips of hide, one should connect it with the Scottish runes (m and n frequently interchange), the selvage of cloth. Hence Burns jocosely calls mischievous youngsters run-deils, strips, as it were, of Old Nick. In the Scots Privy Council Registers (1620) there is an interesting example of the word: "Grite abuse by slascheing of hydis and cutting of some of the rime away."

To complete his equipment the Boer wants only his gun, and this he visualises by a term peculiarly his own. "Roden could find no buyer for his old smooth-bore. A Boer would pick it up. 'A good roer,' would be his verdict, 'an excellent roer in its day'" ("A Veldt Official"). This word is explained by the German Rohr, a reed. It is only a variant of rush, as in bulrush, or in Burns's "Green Grow the Rashes," where rashes means, however, a different plant. The roer is the Boer's constant companion. He is not only a born sportsman, but, as lord over an inferior but treacherous race, man of war from his youth up." Knowing himself to be left as his own master, one of a governing few among many, he instinctively selects the defensive positions which the country affords in abundance. He prefers the advantage of a kopje, and using the stones scattered about in profusion, speedily constructs his schants or breastwork. Here we have the German Schanze, common on the lower Rhine in the sense of a bundle of sticks, such as the Dutch construct so cleverly to fence their waterways. This old Dutch word is used in the form sconce by Shakspere, both as bulwark and humorously as the skull, the bulwark of the head: "To knock him about the sconce with a dirty shovel." When the Boer finds himself snugly en-sconced he is a wary ​behind his schants with roer in hand he is not, as we know too well, easily dislodged.

The waggon is of no less importance to the nomad Boer. It is his house, and, if surprised in the open, his castle too, for he then forms a hollow square, or laagers-up, within the square of waggons placed end to end. On the move in the waggon he treks, and when he yokes and unyokes he inspans or outspans respectively. There are two very common verbs in Lowland Scotland—trake, to gad about, and troke, to barter—the former of which is probably the Dutch trek, to take the road. In the Cumberland dialect treak is an idle fellow, and as a verb to wander idly about. "What is't ta treaken about this teyme o' neet?" There is no doubt about spang, to stretch, being widely known in Scotland, particularly to boys when playing bools or marbles. In Orkney spong is to stride. Stevenson uses it effectively in his "Underwoods,"—

"An' whiles the bluid spangs to my bree,
To lie sae saft, to live sae free,
While better men maun do an' die
In unco places."

Not the least interesting phase in the study of words is the modification of a radical idea under the influence of race and environment. As every term involves substantially a buried metaphor we thus see how unknown namers looked at the objects to the naming of which they diverted the stock of linguistic material that was the general property of the race. Many Transvaal words are not only in form but also conception identical with our own vernacular, but not a few, while radically akin, are put to new uses. This is specially the case with features of the landscape. It is natural to name the new and strange by reference to the old and familiar. Thus the Norse settlers in Clydesdale, arrested by the striking appearance of the isolated hill, Tinto, named it after a home term, tand, a tooth. So the Boers called those knobs that form the foot-hills of the Drakensberg, Kops or heads (German Kopf). But the radical idea was nothing more than anything rounded and prominent. Chaucer visualises his miller thus,—

​

"Upon the cop right of his nose he hade
A werte, and thereon stood a tuft of heres,
Reede as the berstles of a sowes eeres."

The word appears with variations of vowel and sense: cup, cap, cob, ettercop (spider), kibe (a swoln sore on the heel, Shak.). Lower eminences, again, have the diminutive form, kopje, and this is merely the Scottish cappie in the kindly wish, "May you aye be happy and ne'er drink oot o'a toom (empty) cappie!" though the point of view is widely different. In Cape Dutch kop is also the favourite word for "head," and not the Hollander hoofd, which is used only in a figurative sense as die hoofd-laager or headquarters. In Holland, on the other hand, kop is regarded as a vulgar term for the head. Compare the vulgar English, nut. Similarly, the French tête is the Latin testa, a pot, while in Scots the skull is the harn-pan.

There is indeed but little play for the imagination on the monotonous veldt. It is otherwise with the torrent-swept passes of the Drakensberg, where beck and spruit have eroded the slopes into profound, rock-walled gorges. The Boer, modifying the Dutch klip, a crag, calls such a place a kloof. Here, habituated as we are to rock-bound coasts, the word is used in the form cliff. Another feature of the lofty passes is a hoek, such as Bushman's in the Stormberg, which cost Gatacre so dear. "The ground sloped abruptly down from about a hundred feet, forming with the jutting elbow of the cliff a snug, grassy hoek or corner" ("A Veldt Official"). One sees in this word a derivative from the Norse holka, more familiar in Scotland as howk, to dig up. Hence at home here a hoek is called a hauch, only the scene of it is not a rocky pass, but a broad flat holm by a riverside. In Highland scenery it is the laggan, or laich, place. Still more welcome to the trekker, as his cattle toil wearily up the pass, is the nek. "Ambling along the dusty waggon-road which led up to the grassy nek, about a mile from the township," is a bit of description in "A Veldt Official." This word is the equivalent of the French col (Lat. collum, the neck), familiar to Alpine climbers, and a form of Scots, nick, notch.

Bygone social life in Scotland is reproduced in the speech of ​the Transvaal. In Old Edinburgh, the mistress of a bonny land in Advocates' Close, when the christening came on after a lying-in, sat up in bed in high dress and received her acquaintances who came to congratulate her and taste her sweet-cakes. This was the cummers' (French, commére) feast, or in Dutch the kraam-bezuk (German, Besuch) visit. Cummer is still a general rustic synonym for a lass. In the Transvaal the bed on such occasions is the kraam, a booth or screen, also the name of those stalls, the krames, that were hidden away between St. Giles and the Luckenbooths in Old Edinburgh. They were borrowed from the picturesque shops that surround the cathedrals of the Netherlands. A Kram in Germany is a small shop, but the custom of the kraam-bezuk is there known as the Kind- (child) or Wochenbett (bed). Another singular survival both of Teutonic social customs and vocables, is a Boer opsij or rustic wooing. The term is a variant of up-sit (omission of final dental). The "up-set" in a Scots burgh was the fee payable to the craft on admission to the trading privileges of a master. The conviviality attending the function long survived among artisans as a "foy." When a meisjie, or a widow well tochered with sufficient skaap (sheep), is visited by an eligible Dopper, "kom tae vrij" (woo), he off-saddles, and, if graciously received, prepares to improve the occasion with the bucolic reserve of the Laird of Dumbiedykes. The vrouw takes the long candles from the shrank (cupboard), and leaves wooer and wooed to sit up together till the grey dawn breaks, a custom which, in one form or another, rural Scotland long looked on kindly. The envied fair one, who has many of such vrijers, may have to sit up four or five nights a week till the eventful choice is made.

There is abundant evidence in language to prove that the ancient Northumbria—that is, Lowland Scotland from Tay to Humber—was a Frisian or Dutch settlement. Both find their affinities in the fertile plains of the lower Danube among those Goths for whom their good countryman, Bishop Wulfila, translated the gospels into their vernacular in the fourth century. The very tones of his converts live in the Dutch— ​

Dutch. Sc. Eng.
wan whan when
dan than then
nu noo now
oot oot out
een ane one

In his version the thieves twitted (id-weitjan, Du. ver-witjan) Jesus on the Cross, just as any Lowland Scot puts the wite (Du. wijt) or blame on another. The hireling shepherd in the parable is betrayed by his framath voice, the Dutch vremmd, and Scottish fremd. Scott, writing to John Ballantine, says: "Walter will be in town by the time this reaches you, looking very like a cow in a fremd loaning" (paddock). The disciples take of the fragments twelve baskets full of brock (ga-bruko, Du. brok), a term familiar in every kitchen. The Shetlander calls the offal of fish, brucks. St. Paul tells the Corinthians that "all things are lawful, but are not expedient," which Wulfila renders, "All bi-nah, akei ni all daug," where we have the Boer deug, virtue, merit, the root of which is primarily a pastoral metaphor, to yield milk, then to be good for. It gives us doughty, and do in the phrase, "Will that do?" The old verb dow, to be worth, be able, is still in use in Central Scotland. In "Johnie Armstrong's Last Good Night" there is a good illustration,—

"These four-and-twenty mills complete,
Shall gang for thee through a' the year;
And as meikle of gude red wheat
As a' their hoppers dow to bear."

When the Saviour sends out the twelve on mission He says: "And put not on two coats"—"Jah ni vasjaith tvaim paidom." Here Wulfila uses a very old word for a peasant's coat of sheepskin, paida. This explains the contemptuous Boer name for an English red-coat, a rooi-baatjie. Both forms follow the Greek βαίτη, a peasant's coat of skins, not the modern Dutch pije, a coat of coarse woollen stuff. This latter is what we hear in pea-jacket and the mediæval courte-py. It is remarkable that Dutch uses not this antique baatje, but jakse or mantle ​(Ger. Jacke, jacket). In the Taal it is applied as in the sentence, "Is die Heere nie bang dat het sal gaan reen? . . . Né, ons hêt almaal reên-baatjes"—Are you gentlemen not afraid that it is going to rain? . . . No, we have always waterproofs. Calvary, again, in the Gothic is hvairneistaths or harn-stead (Du. hersen-pan, Sc. harn-pan), the pot which holds the harns or brains. This renders the phrase, "the place of a skull," in the English version.

The homely aspect of life and its relations are naturally prominent. The patriarchal head is the huis heer, or, generally, the baas, based on the figure of the boss on a shield or the Scotch bush, the nave or hub of a wheel on which the spokes (children), felloes (dependents), and rim (outer world) all depend. Vrouw, the housewife, is the term of honour in preference to wife. The children are the kleintjies, the little ones (Ger. Klein). Broers and broederen preserve the distinction in brothers and brethren. Kindly inquiries take such forms as these: "Maarie, waar (whaur) is jou zussie? Is dit jou dochterjie?" Conventional address is equally patriarchal. One younger than the speaker is son; of his own age, neef (knave, in Ger. boy, lad); if a lady, tante; if younger, nicht (Ger. nephew). Ou is familiarly addressed to anyone, like our old, old boy. Parts of the body are quite intelligible, such as the "luff (or palm) van de hand," the oor (ear), and the oksel, or armpit (Sc. oxter).

In the domestic series the Boer comes equally close to the Scot. He mends the vuur (fire) with tangs (tongs), hoests (coughs), has a kinkhoest (whooping-cough), snotters or snivels, knows the virtue of a steek in time, taps his beer with a kraan, admires a breed shouder and sound lids (Du. leden, C. Du. le'e, joints, "lith and limb"), and prides himself in being slim (Sc. slim, Du. slem, Ger. schlimm), believes himself to be kloek (Ger. klug, clever) or gleg i' the uptak like the Scot. His huis has a roef, and a gevel (Gothic gibla, pinnacle of the Temple). From the stoep one enters the one large common room, the kitchie (Aberd.) of this ha'-house, with sleeping chambers leading off it. The bultong and the mealies hanging from the rafters represent the Scottish braxy and the weel-hained kebbocks. The loft above is reached by a trap (Ger. Treppe). ​This is the usual Scots word for a ladder. In school to take down a rival and thus climb higher in the class we called to trap. The Taal calls a stair a trap, as in the sentence, "Ga die trap op, loop voorbij (walk past) twee deure in die gang (passage), en klop (clap, knock) dan aan die derde deur," where the language is Scots enough to be easily followed. The "who goes up my winding stair" connects trap as at once a stair and a snare. The window, as in a Scottish borrowstoon when glass was scarce, closes with a schut or wooden screen, a term in constant use here in olden days. Amid the reek (Sc. Du. rook, smoke) hangs the pot on the fire by the lum-cleek (Du. and Sc. lum, a chimney, and klik a hook and cleek in golf), while the guidwife plies her canny trokes (Sc. Du. drok, busy) about the kitchen in homemade vel-schoen (fell or skin shoes), the bauchles or revlins (Orkney) of the days before machine-made slippers. Out of doors the Boer would recognise the sheep flake (Sc. and Du.) or hurdle, originally of flaked or plaited twigs, and the thoroughly Scottish saying, "Let the tow (rope) gang (gaan) wi' the bucket," for the folly of crying over spilt milk. He makes a kink (Sc. kinch) on his tow or tuig, and might easily hazard a guess at the meaning of Burns's lines,—

"My fur a-bin's (off-wheeler) a wordy beast (Du. waarde bees)
As e'er in tug or tow was traced."

A Cape man, doing business up-country, was buying horses for his waggon, and this is what the Boer seller had to say for them: "Die paar paarde is goed geleer (weel learnt) in die tuig." A pole or stick is a stang, just as in the Scottish phrase to ride the stang, and to smother is to smore. When the auld mare came to a stey (steep) brae, Burns reminds her,—

"Just thy step a wee thing hastet,
Thou snoov't awa'."

This shows the Boer snoove, to walk smoothly. A "stey brae" is in the Transvaal "een steile op-draus," a stiff up-drawing or climb, where we have the same word as there is in stile, or steps over a wall in the absence of a slap or a yett. It is, indeed, surprising to find so many of the homeliest Scots expressions ​in the Taal. One might fancy a private of the Scottish Borderers becoming quite brotherly with a Boer, for the jou (you to rhyme with now) and the mij (me) of both are almost identical in sound. The Boer's inquiry, "Is jou hoofd zeer?"—is your head sore, would not sound strange. Similarly a Cameronian in the Scottish Rifles would find his strong r in "warm" quite equivalent to the Boer's warem(e), as also the long vowel in school-maistre (C. Du. meester). Both will agree in taking a wife or a wifie in a depreciatory sense. The respectful vrouw is applied to a woman. The Scot would understand the Boer's "Ga maar binne in die huis" (gae mair ben the hoose), a "sully kêrel" for a simple-minded sumph is his own phrase, and 'tweel I wat is almost his way of saying "I am well aware" ("Net weel Ik weet"—pronounced wait). "Who could miss "Ja, dat is het"—that's hit. When we read in Burns, "The gossip keekit in his loof," we almost hear the Boer's "Hij kijk in die leof." The obscure word iets, used in preference to the Hollander wat (what) for anything indefinite, and its negative niets are very common in the Taal. They are contractions for Scottish ocht and nocht (Eng. aught and naught). Both appear in the sentence, "Hé je een beitje brood voor mij?" "Né, ik hé ver jou niets, maar (but, mair, cf. Fr. mais, majus) die man daar het iets ver jou." "Neem een komme water en dicht die vloere op" (take a kimmin o' water an' clean up the floor) shows, in neem, an old English verb which Shakspere had in mind when he called a pickpocket Corporal Nym; while kimmin (komme) is a well-known East Coast word for what would in Lanarkshire be called a bine or bucket. "Die lum rijk zwaar" is the Kaapsch (C. Dutch) for "The chimney smokes badly," where zwaar is the Lowland Scottish sweer, unwilling, but used in a slightly different sense. The Boer says, "Die pad is zwaar Zand" (the road is very sandy). "Die tije (tide-time) is zwaar"—the times are hard, "Dat is veel waart"—that is worth a great deal, and "Gé die man een stuk brood"—gie the man a piece bread, these all sound homely enough.

The kijk of the Taal is felt by the Hollander to be not so dignified as his ziet, which the Transvaaler again avoids. Similarly the German thinks its cognate gucken nicht so fein as sehen, But C. Dutch is fond of kijk, as witness the homely ​phrases—"Kijk hoe mooi die weer nou is" (See how nice the weather is now); "Kijk een beetje, daar kom mijn broer, Jakob;" "Hij kijkt naar je" (He's keekin naar ye); "Wach een beetje, laa mij kijk" (Wait a bittie, let me [cf. Lanarksh. Le'me] see). "Een val ver die muis" is the Boer way of describing a mousetrap. Here we have the German falle, and, curiously, the East Coast of Scotland word also, a mooss-faw (Norse musföll), with the usual dropping of a final l. A val deure is a trap-door. Even the youthful Boer would understand the Doric, to swei (Du. zwaai, swing) on a gate and to be roopie with a bad cold, for his roep (Sc. roup, an auction) means a call or a hoarse shout. From the sway or swei-cruck, in the old Scottish kitchen, hung the kail-pot. The request of the family doctor is equally familiar: "Laa' een beetje jou tong zien." "Wat kan ik voor u doen, Jufvrouw?" (Let me see your tongue. What can I do for you, Miss?) When he says "Daar teekens is van een besmettelijke ziekte" (there are tokens of an infectious sickness), he uses an expression almost identical with the Lowland Scots, smit and smittel. The Dutchman speaks plainly. He calls corns, for example, likdoorns (body-thorns), using the old word we have in lyke-wake, and calls a surgeon a snij-dokter or cutting doctor. He even turns his humour in grim directions. "Hei izet hoekie omgegaan" is his euphemism for "He has died." He uses here the diminutive of hoek a corner. Some may see in it a connection with our slang, Hook it! and Hooky Walker.

It will be seen that our current vernacular can claim close kin with the Cape Dutch. But the comparison also carries us back to olden times. There a roes has still the force it had in Hamlet's "The king has ta'en his rouse," for boisterous conviviality. One can recognise in it the Orcadian ruz, to praise, boast. Burns to Gavin Hamilton sings,—

"Expect na, sir, in this narration,
A fleechin, flethrin Dedication,
To roose you up, aud ca' you guid,
An' sprung o' great and noble bluid,
Because ye're sirnamed like his Grace."

In Dutch, too, there is a very strong expression for constant tippling in the verb zuipen, familiar to us in our saep, to soak in. ​More reputable illustrations, socially, are seen in mise, to spare, as in "Ons hé altije iets ver een arm mens to mise"—We have always something to spare for a poor man. A parallel is found in the Cumberland syper, as "The Hivverby lads at fair drinkin are Sypers." In mise, to spare, we are reminded of the Scots thrifty savings bank on the mantelpiece, the misert-pig, noted in Grigor's "Glossary." The reader of such a fine illustrator of old manners as Allan Ramsay meets with many interesting points in Cape Dutch. His Luckenbooths, from the Dutch luiken, to close, means the shops that were not mere temporary stalls. The lokman was the jailer, and the closed daisy was said to be locken. The vernacular lock for a quantity is no corruption of lot, but merely a synonym for a nievefu' or fist-full. In the expression, again, for "he is dressed," the Cape Dutch "hij trek aan" reminds us of Roger in the "Gentle Shepherd,"—

"An few gangs trigger to the kirk or fair,"

or the swains in "Hallowe'en,"—

"The lads sae trig wi' wooer babs,
Weel knotted on their garten."

The series "“zout, peper, mosterd, azjin (vinegar), zoet olie," is of much interest. The obscure azjin reminds us of Hamlet's "Woo't drink up Eysell?" where we see the same stem, essen to eat, with a different termination. The form olie for oil is exactly what was so familiar to Allan Ramsay and Fergusson in the vernacular of last century. It is the Dutch form of the Latin oleum. In old speech it was always a dissyllable, hence the Olie or Oylé wall of St. Katharine's, near Edinburgh.

But the Taal reminds us of many such points of social and trading contact between old Holland and Scotland. This is still more evident when we turn to farming terms. The Boer applied his rustic terms to the novel conditions of the mining industry. Thus he spoke of myn-pachts or mining leases, and here we recognise the pact and paction or bargain of our own country. But more strangely still, along the Forth or Dutch ​shore of Fife a small farmer is spoken of as a pachter or leaseholder, and sometimes described contemptuously as a pauchlin buddie. And even in so serious a matter as high politics words familiar in old Scotch land-tenure are heard. The Boer constitution or Grond-wet shows the well-known term a wad-set for a property pledged under a mortgage, and in our vernacular a bet or pledge is always a wad-g-er. A very common name, too, in Scotland for a farm, a place, is universal in South Africa. Thus one asks, "Hoe v'er is dit na die plaats van Oom Piet Steen?" How far is it to (Ger. nach) Old Pete Steen's place? The homestead in the Lowlands is the toon (Ger. Zaun, hedge, fence), but this the Boer uses strictly in its original sense of an enclosure, or in rural England a garth, as in the phrase, "Een meus kijk uit op die tuin," one may look out over the garden, given as one of the attractions of a particular lodging. The cultivated land of the Boer is without our most troublesome weed in olden times, the gool or wild marigold, but he has the name in his geel, yellow. He knows nothing of the old-fashioned bere or big, but oats he calls by its antique Scottish name, haver, a word that the song preserves in its "haver-meal bannocks." And when he mows his corn he speaks of whetting his scythe with a slijp, just as an Ayrshire man still does. Though he uses a Kaffir word for his sheep-pen (kraal), it might very well be called a fank as in the west of Scotland, for this shows his verb vangen to catch, from which comes our quaint legal terms, infang and ootfang theft, and the common description, "off the fang" applied to a water-pump when too dry for the valve to catch.

(b) Duncan Gray.

Mr. Reitz, Secretary of the quondam Transvaal Republic, enjoyed an English education, but seems to have returned to his home on the Veldt a confirmed separatist. His sense of patriotism, deepened by his sojourn here, led him to do for his brethren what King Alfred did for his Englishmen, and that was to supply them with a native literature, or at least a temporary substitute for it. He knew well that nothing so ​supports the flame of patriotism as pride in the national speech. This was in every way a laudable and progressive policy. Krugerism, on the other hand, represented, to the Uitlanders of Johannesburg and the Rand, a retrograde Conservatism. Reitz rightly tried to foster a popular literature, and so he chose for the models he put before the young Boers such pieces as "John Gilpin" and, above all, the poems of Burns. They were published, fifty in number, in 1888, when he was Chief Justice of the Orange Free State. Of these pieces the outstanding ones are "The Cottars," "Tarn o' Shanter," and "Duncan Gray," They are suggestions more than translations. With skill and judgment he selects the features that suit the Boer environment, and adds many touches that spring out of the changed situation. All of them throw most interesting light on the peculiarities, of the people. In "The Cottars" Reitz admirably illustrates the rural homeliness and isolation of Boer life, combined with characteristic social and devotional traits. "Tam" shows the Boer in convivial mood, the victim at once of good fellowship and uncanny spooks. He cheats Auld Nick through his slimness and mobility. In "Duncan Gray," again, we have the Boer in the lighter vein of a wooer or vrijer, a term that is a survival from prehistoric times, for it is just the masculine of the Freja or Norse Venus of our Friday or Freja Day, and stdl heard in the Ger. Frau. In the Gothic gospels of the fourth century, frijon, to love, is common, while our Lord is generally addressed as Frauja. The wooer is the young farmer, Daantjie or Danie Grouws (cf. Ger. grau, grey), while the wooed is the meisje (missie), Maartjie or Martha. A word-for-word translation will enable the reader, with his Burns in hand, to judge of the merits of the piece It will be noted, in this interlinear translation, that wherever an English word could be found that was closely akin to its Taal equivalent it has been used, though archaic from the modern point of view. The second line, as the oft-recurring refrain, need appear only once.

​

DAANTJIE GROUWS.[3]

Daantjie kom hier om te vrij,
Danie comes here for to woo.
Ja, met vrijers gaat dit soo,
Yes, 'mid wooers goes it so;
Sondags-aânts het hij vèr moet rij.
Sunday-eves he far must (O.-Eng. mote) ride.
Maartjie steek haar kop in die luch,
Martie sticks her head in the light,
Kijk soo skeef en trek terug,
Keeks so slyly and draws back,
Sit ver Daantjie glat op vlug.
Sets Danie clean on the wing.
Daantjie smeek en Daantjie bid.
Danie flatters and Danie entreats (O.-Eng. bid, to pray).
Maartjie's doof en blif maar sit.
Martie is deaf, and remains however seated.
Daantjie such vir ure lang.
Danie sighs four hour long.
Vêe die trane van sijn wang.
Wipes the tears from his cheeks (Ger. die Wangen),
Praat van hemselve op te hang,
Prattles of himself up-to-hang,
Die tijd versach[4] maar ons gevoel.
But (maar cf. Fr. mais) time softens our feelings.
Verachte liefde word ook koel.
Despised love worth (becomes) eke cool.
"Sal ik," seg hij, "nets (Ger. nichts) een gek.
"Shall I," says he, "an out-and-out gowk (fool),
Om een laffe meisie vrek?
For a laughing lassie be-driven-away?
Sij kan naar die hoenders trek."
She can near the hens go."
​Hoe dit kom lat dokters vertel,
How it comes let doctors tell.
Maartjie word siek en hij word wel,
Martie grows sick and he grows well.
Daar's iets wat an haar borsie knaa.
There's something what (that) in her bosom gnaws.
En hartjie-seer begin haar plaa,
And heart-sore begins her to-plague,
Haar oogies glinster ook maar braa.
Her eyes glisten eke more bright (Sc. mair braw).
Daantjie was een sachte[5] man,
Danie was a soft (Sc. sauchie) man,
En Maartjie trek haar dit soo an;
And Martie took it to her so,
Daantjie, krij[6] jammer in sijn hart.
Danie felt pity in his heart.
Die liefde groei weer an sijn part.
Love grew again (Ger. wieder) on his part.
Nou leef sulle same sonder smart.
Now-live they together without vexation.

The Boer vernacular offers many points for annotation to the curious in matters linguistic. German, as the least altered living Teutonic speech, is, of course largely represented here, witness om=um, met=mit, aânts=abends, glat=glatt (smooth), vir=vier, trane=träne, van=von, sijn=sein, wang=wange, gevoel=gefühl, ons=unser, verachte=verachten, word=werden, seg=sagen, same=zusammen, oogies=augen, krij=kriegen. But scarce any of these are unknown to Scots or old English. Thus while modern English says evening, Scots shows the same softening as the Taal, witness, "Hame cam oor gude man at een." We have now lost the useful verb, word (becomes), but Scott uses it in "Woe worth the hour!" This piece, again, shows two of the commonest words in Cape Dutch that are explained by Scots and German, though at first sight obscure. These are the positive iets (ocht=ought), and the negative niets (nocht). But the ​Taal, in following the Dutch, is consonantly akin to Scots and English, rather than German, as is shown by comparison of the following Boer words with their German cognates:—te=zu, terug=zurück, op=auf, doof=taub, tijd=zeit, ook=auch. We have here also the favourite corruptions of the Taal. Thus a dental, both final and medial, frequently disappears as rij for ride, Ger. reiten, luch for Scots licht, or weer for German wieder (cf. Eng. with-stand, with-hold), drif for drift. А similar softening is seen in vêe for wipe. Such elisions are common in all linguistic growth. Reitz's language, indeed, shows nothing to justify the popular contempt for the Taal as a vulgar hotch-potch of corrupt Dutch, English and Kaffir.

To the Scot the Taal must always sound familiar, for he can turn an intelligent ear to both the Dutch and the German elements in it. The sounds are often exactly his own. The query, "Hae ye faur te gang?" is just the Boer, "He'you vèr te gaan?" The Boer constantly uses kijk, to look, though in Scotland it is but little heard out of the nursery. In South Africa, however, photographic views are kiekjies, and a field-glass is a ver-kiekjer. Similarly in en for and, een for a and one, ure for hour, and lang for long, we are on homely ground. The Scot, again, has ceased to sound the guttural in such (sigh), but to "keep a calm souch," is still for him a discreet silence.

Reitz's rendering is spirited, though we miss some characteristic touches. "On blithe Yule night when we were fou," is discreetly changed so as to suggest the long distances on the lonely Veldt and the pleasures of the Op-sit on the great social evening of the week. In the very expressive skeef, we have what is really only a variant of the Scottish skeigh. The change of final is paralleled in laugh, enough. Of course Ailsa Craig must go, but while to "remain seated" may be de rigueur on such occasions in Boerland, the change is weak. Nor can the Lover's Leap be always practicable in the sun-dried spruits, so "spak o' lowpin owre a linn" is dropped. "Grat his een baith bleert and blin," is feebly rendered by "wipes the tears from his cheeks." The phrase "een gek" is however stronger than "a fool" of the original. "Hunt'e gowk" is to play April fool. The word is also in the familiar play-rhymes, given in a former ​section (p. 128). This imitative name for the cuckoo (A.S. gaec) denotes a simpleton in many lands. Its monotonous note inspires the Cumberland proverb, "Ye breed of the gowk, ye've nae rhyme but ane." Gibson, poet of the dales, has, "T' pooar lal gowk hesn't gumption enough."

"Een laffe meisje" is only a "giglot lassie," a very different thing from a "haughty hizzie." The sly humour, too, of "Duncan was a lad o' grace," has been missed in the phrase, "soft or tender-hearted man.” The sach here is a familiar Scottish word for soft, while, contemptuously, sauchie is a simpleton. In the Buchan dialect a selch is a big, stout, daichie or doughy fellow, somewhat after the fashion of the seal. Selch, in fact, is a dialect equivalent for seal, of which it is but the fuller form. On the whole "Daantjie Grouws" is a vigorous and characteristic specimen of the Boer vernacular, and gives a very favourable impression of the translator's literary tastes and sympathies. There remains only to add, that in all the piece under discussion we have but three terms with which the Boer war made us familiar—kop, trek and ons (our), which last is in the title of the Bond organ, "Ons Land."

(c) The Cottar's Saturday Night.

Saterday-aant in 'n Boerewoning—Saturday-e'enin in a Boer-woning (dwelling, farm).

Reitz was evidently in whole-hearted sympathy with "The Cottar's Saturday Night," though here too his work is in no sense a reproduction but an imitation. We miss the beautifully appropriate local colour of the original—the graphic scenery of the opening, the elder bairns drappin' in' and all the cackle of the clachan, the saintly sire's exhortation to well-doing and faithful service, the finesse of the blushing Jenny and the pawky gudewife, the artless love-making, the kindly Hawkie "'yont the hallan," and the specially Burns touch in deprecating the ensnarements of artless love. His gray-haired sire is the House-father, the Klein-baas (little Boss) of a patriarchal, self-contained establishment who has nothing to say of hard manual labour at the beck and call of a master, or of "service out amang the farmers roun," for there were none to hire on the Veldt.

​The Season is, of course, not the gloom of November but the end of harvest, the Oest-tijd of the Boer's Bible. The sickle is away (die sekels weg), and there is joy in prospect of the morrow's rest. Greetings go round (Naant, Gar. Guten Abend) from the eldest son (die oudste seun) to the little ones (die kleintjies). Brothers and sisters sit round upright in the hall (broers and susters sit rondom upsij) after the fashion of an old-time funeral party, and each outvies the other in gossip: "The social hours; swift-winged, unnoticed fleet" ("die tijd die vlieg so ongemerk verbij"=the tide flees so unmarked for-by). There follows a specially patriarchal function, the feet-washing (voet-wasbalie=feet-wash-pailie), grateful surely in that dry, dusty land. It long survived in Scotland as the rough horse-play of the evening before the wedding.

The watchdog barks (die honde blaf=bowffs, bluffs), and a knock at the door brings the conscious blush to Elsie's cheeks. The young man (die jonkman) greets (groet), Oom, Tante en Niggie (Ger. Nichte, niece), Boer conventions for host, hostess and girls. The sire talks to the kereltjie (carlie) of horses, pleughs and kye, but in Boerland this is horses, sheep and cattle (perde, skaap en vee). The Taal vee is in the opening of Henryson's fine pastoral,—

"Robin sat on a gude grene hill,
Kepand his flok of fie."

From the "neebor lad" (neef Koot, the lad Koot) we pass to Maatjie (Maatie, the gudewife) preparing the supper (die Opsit, a solemn social function). Instead of the "halesome parritch" and Hawkie's yill the table is decked with—

"Rijs, kerrie, kluitjies, en wit brood
En botter waar die vrou op trotsig is,
'N kom vol melk,"

which may be rendered—Rice, carraway sweets, tarts, and white bread and butter, of which the Frau is proud, and a cog of milk. A South African assures me that kluitjies here is not clotted (our clot, clod) cream, which that land knows not, but "a sort of tart with a sticky, sweet paste inside. Kluit in the Taal is ​a lump or clod, and substantially, the same as Sc. clüte, ankle, hoof of a sheep. The kom milk is the Fifeshire kimmin with the suffixed article. "Help jouself, neef Koot." But what cares he for the cake? (koek of tert, meaning cookie, and tairt). The "of" here is not our preposition. He gazes (kijk) rather at his Elsie; her dear eyes are worth more to him ("haar liewe oogies is hom meerder werd"). Lowland Scots do not, indeed, say mairder (more) but they say nearder.

The supper done ("die maaltijd 's klaar") the "Patriarg" takes the Bible, "die selfde Boek, wat al sijn voor-ouers had" (the self-same Book, what all his (Ger. sein) fore-elders had). It is the "big ha'-Bible," such an one as that wherein William Burness entered the baptisms in Boer fashion, "waar die doop-registers staan." In old St. Andrews the Baptists were known as The Dippies. The head of the house of old uncovered only for prayer, and so here,—

"Sijn breerand hoed eerbiedig afgehaal,
Sijn hart die is all grijs, sijn hare ijl"—

his broad-brimmed hoed (hat) reverentially (Ger. ehrbietig) aff-haling, his beard all grey, his hair thin,—

"Hij lees 'n Sion's lied in d'ouwe taal"—

he reads (wales) a Sion lay in the old speech.

There is no note here of the Covenanter's "wild warbling measures," but they sing with gees (Ger. Geist), heart and voice. They hearken as the old man reads (die ou man les—Ger. lesen) of how Moses smote the Amalekite (the Boer's Kaffir foe) and David groaned (ge-sug, sooched) under God's anger and chastising hand (kastijdend hand).

This Priester-praal or Evangelical part is done with real feeling. There is the picture of the Christ tied "an die Kruis met bloedrig sweet" (sweat),—

"Hoe Hij die hier gen (Ger. kein) rusplaas had op aard,
Daar Bowe tog die twede naam besit"-

how He who here no rest-place had on earth, there 'Bove (Heaven) yet the second nạme, owns.

​There is nothing of the breaking-up of the party in such a self-contained household. But we have the secret homage of the parent-pair (stil en bed-aard spreek toen die Cristen-vader, the grey-haired sire), and the prayer to Him who decks the lily fair in flowery pride (wat met prag die lilies kan beklee=who with pride the lilies kan beclad).

There is of course no eulogy of the simple non-Prelatic services of the home, no patriotic outburst inspired by Old Scotia and Wallace's undaunted heart, but the piece concludes with an almost literal rendering of the Burns couplet,—

"But haply, in some cottage far apart,
[surely a close appeal on the Veldt]
May hear, well pleased, the pure language of the soul:
And in his Book of Life the inmates poor enrol'"—

"Ter wijl uit so 'n stille needrig hoek,
Hoor hij die reine siele-taal met wel-behaa
En skrijf dit in Sijn ewig lewensboek."

(d) Tam o' Shanter.

The Boer translator is not nearly so successful with "Tam o' Shanter" as with "The Cottars." The rustic setting, the pious sentiment, the Biblical flavour of the latter, seem to elicit a more sympathetic response. In some respects "Tam" should have been equally congenial. The Boer, whether in his oups or in his wanderings among the eerie, baboon-haunted kloofs, is peculiarly susceptible to the influence of unholy spooks on his nerves, a peculiarly Dutch term for bogles that may very plausibly claim kinship with our own Puck and the "wee Pechs" of Scottish folk-lore. The strengthening with initial s is no unusual feature. But Reitz so completely misses the humour of the situation and its inimitably dramatic touches that one wonders if we have here another racial illustration of the joke and the surgical operation. Few fresh features are imported into the tale, and only about a third of the original is used. The piece is entitled "Klaas Geswint en sijn Pêrt," or in German, Nikolas Geschwind (the mobile) und sein Pferd ​(and his horse). The commonplace beginning is unworthy of Burns's vigorous visualising: "when you perhaps with your mate up in the village sit laughing and chatting, you forget you must go home (vergeet jij, jij moet huis toe gaan), otherwise Elsie will beat you. She now sits by the fire and mutters, 'I'll get him soon as he comes home.'" We miss the graphic picture of Auld Ayr's High Street at the close of a market-day, the chapmen homeward bent, the change-house going "like a cried fair," and the prospect of moorland roads in winter. Elsie is a poor substitute for Kate, but the vrou, well used to the "handy rung" for the Hottentot help, threatens to beat her man (slaan, Ger. schlagen, Eng. slog). For "nursing her wrath to keep it warm" we have merely brom, expressive in a way, for it is akin to the word for barm or yeast. Reitz moralises on the frequent want of appreciation of a wife's advice, to him indeed the raison d'être of Klaas's subsequent mishap,—

"Jammer dat mans so selde hoor
As hulle vrouens, ver hul' knor;
Dit is maar so—hul kaan maar praat,
Ons luister tog nie na hul' raad.
Dat dit so is, het Klaas Geswint
Een donker nag oek uit-gevind;
•••••••• Toen hij terug rij van die Braak.
Had Klass geluister na sijn vrow
Dan had dit hom nog nooit berou."

Pity 'tis that men (mans) so seldom hear (hoor)
When their good wives scold them;
But so it is—they can speak at will,
We listen never a bit to their good advice.
That that is so, one Klaas Geswint
One dark night e'en found it;
When he rode home from the Braak.
Had Klaas listened to his wife
Then this had never happened to him.

Elsie's scolding does not want for directness. Not a day passed but she said to him, "Klaas, you are indeed an old rascal (alte skellem); not a night you have been out of the ​house but you conduct yourself like a beast, and when Koos Tities goes with you, then it goes badly with you two." There is here the identical epithet Burns uses, skellem, Ger. Schelm. It has now quite dropped out of the Scots vernacular, but is preserved in Gaelic as sgeilm, boasting, prattling. The boozing in the change-house is done con amore. "Ee'n aânt, in plaas van huis toe gaan" (Sc. ane eenin, in place of hooss tae gang), Klaas tipples with his kêrels in die knijp, where we have a Dutch word that has been borrowed by the German students for their Bier-kneipen. The glass which he induces his mates to give him is een slag, still heard in the Scottish phrase, to "sloken (moisten) one's drouth" or thirst. So they "ge' oom Klaas oek nog een dop" (so they gie old Klaas still another swig). In dop we have a word once in familiar use in Scotland. One of the Lowther family, travelling from Carlisle to Edinburgh (1629), records in his Journall or diary how, on going to bed for the night at laird Pringle's on Gala Water, his host gave him a doup of ale, or, in his own Cumberland dialect, a noggin of beer. The word is applied also in Cape Dutch to an egg-shell, and implies anything deep and rounded. In illustration we have the cognate Ger. Topf, a cooking-pot, Eng. spinning-top, and in Scots and nearest to Cape Dutch, candle-doup or the conical end of a candle. The result of the conviviality was to render Klaas, in Boer phrase, "mooi hoenderkop," beautifully fowl-headed. This may only visualise the erratic action of the bewildered hen, well known to cyclists, or a brain disease which makes its feathered victim whirl round and round and then fall helpless. The word mooi (Lat. mollis, soft) is as useful an epithet to the Boer in the Boer taal as bonnie in Scots. Thus he applies it to a river, a horse, a woman (handsome vrouw).

Reitz weakly omits the strikingly human elements of the story—the miller, the smith, the woman in the kirk-toon "with a past," the "chuffie vintner" and his spouse, and above all the souter, immortal Bacchanal. But moralising attracts him, so he tackles his author's visualising of Pleasure thus: "Pleasure is like a young cucumber. If you pick it, it simply withers; or like a tortoise in his shell, as soon as you touch him, he pulls in his head." We have here two similes that appeal most strongly to the Afrikander—"een jong komkommer en een ​skulpad." On this latter term Mitford's powerful tale, "A Veldt Official," throws light: "He is a young horse but a good one and will stand fire like an arm-chair, though he does shy like a foal now and again at a schuilpaat the size of a snail." By this name is the land tortoise known all over South Africa. Cape differs from Hollander Dutch in hardening initial sch, hence the difference in spelling here. The term is historically notable. Kruger, in a famous parable, once likened the Uitlander to the skulpad, whose head he cannily waited to lop off as soon as the unhappy creature, unwarily progressive, should emerge from its cover. In most tongues the crab and the tortoise designate something pinched, stunted, crooked. Hence this Dutch term appears in Scots as an epithet, shilpit, very familiar and expressive. Thus in Ford's "Morning Walk,"—

"Wee shilpit bairnies fill the doorsteps,
An peer oot through the window panes."

So Scott calls sherry a "shilpit drink," not, as the glossarists explain, because it is insipid, but because, when tart and sour, it causes a wry face. The wines of old had to be sweetened in a posset to make them palatable.

Tam's nag bears here the name Kol, very common for a horse, and always designating one with a white star on its forehead, what Burns called "bawsent." An Englishman, bargaining with a Boer for a pair of horses, has them thus described: "Daar staat een, die licht-bruine met die kol; en daar in die hock die ander, die donker-bruine ook met een kol"—there stands one, the light brown with the blaize (kol); and there in the corner the other, the dark brown, also with a blaize, The Scottish ploughman equally favours such a horse and calls it "Star." Klaas's meerie is still frisky though her back is a bittie hollow ("al was haar rug, 'n bietjie hol"). In rug here we have the Sc. riggin or ridge of a house.

Reitz fails to face the droll visualising of Auld Nick, but merely says he played on a tromp for forty spooks in a clump. His playing is expressed by speul, Ger: spielen, and long in the Scots vernacular in such phrases as spiel the wa', spiel a tree, where it means to climb. The instrument, too, is the rural ​name for the Jew's harp, the trump. The witches are timidly sketched as die goed, the stuff, the things, and almost as naked as a poodle.

It is significant of much that, whereas Tam "skelps through mud and mire, crooning some auld Scots sonnet," Klaas whistles (fluit=flute) the nine and ninetieth Psalm to keep his courage up, for the Boer is as fond of psalm-singing as a westlan' Whig. He dreads to meet uncanny spooks, for he must pass die kerk-hof," haunt of bogles. For the "hof" the modern Scot finds a Saxon term, churchyard, but the town graveyard of Dundee was of yore known as the Auld Howf.

Equally significant of Boer tactics, too, when Klaas is pursued by the witches, is his appeal to his mare to do her utmost, not in clearing the brig, rare in the Transvaal, but in crossing the drift or ford, often enough exposed to sudden floods. "Go it, Kol!" he shouts, "the devil cuts your spoor; here lies the drift. Up! she's over!" A born huntsman, the Boer knows the spoor well, the Scots speer, to follow a track, to ask one's way. But, exposed for generations to unseen dangers, he knows, too, what it is to have his retreat cut off, as Klaas dreaded here. The dénouement is rapidly sketched,—

"Haar stêrt het hul glad uit-geruk;
Mar Klaas is los, dis één geluk"—

Her tail was clean pulled out;
But Klaas is safe, a piece of good luck.

The stêrt here remains on our coast, as a note of Viking raids, in Start Point, and, with more peaceful suggestions, in the name of a bird, the redstart. "Uit-geruk," again, is simply the Scots rugged or pulled out. There remains only to point the moral in the fashion of the good Predikant,—

"Ver die wat lus het om te draai,
Wil ek mar net één wortjie raai:
Gedenk aan Klaas Geswint sijn pêrt,
En vraag jou selve: waar's haar stêrt?"

Rendered literally this would read:—

​

For him, who knows (wot) desire (lust) to turn round (Ger. drehen),
Will I but one word-ie advise (rede):
Think on Klaas Geswint his horse,
And ask (Ger. fragen) yourself, "Where is her tail?"

"Tam o' Shanter" is manifestly but an exotic on the Veldt. The Boer is out of sympathy with the characteristic humour of the situation. He lays hold of the conjugal aspect, so indispensable to the peace of his self-contained home. He emphasises the eerieness of the situation and its call for caution, but we miss the jocose familiarity and kindly humanity of Tam's relations to the witches.

  1. ↑ (C.) for Cumberland, (B.) for Border.
  2. ↑ Kaapsche, speech of the Cape, to which for generations the Dutch colonists were confined.
  3. ↑ The text of this piece is given in that unique and interesting collection, "Robert Burns in Other Tongues," by Dr. Wm. Jacks (Glasgow : Maclehose, 1896). For help in the English translation I am indebted to my esteemed friend, Miss Frances du Toit of Rondebosch, Cape Town, an accomplished Afrikander. The language, though not the sense, I have altered so as to suggest affinity wherever it exists.
  4. ↑ Versach, as if Scots fer-soak, makes soak.
  5. ↑ Sachte, softened, lit. soaked.
  6. ↑ Krij, kriegen (German), acquire, obtain.
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3399330Studies in Lowland Scots — Farther Afield1909James Colville
​

V.—FARTHER  AFIELD.

Of the two items here presented, that on French words in Lowland Scots calls for no apology. The old connection between Scotland and France is one of the few links with Mediaevalism that might be considered popular. This popularity could hardly be said to be the fruit of any extensive acquaintance with Scottish history. It would seem to owe much of its persistence to the genius of Sir Walter Scott in his "Quentin Durward."

The list, though probably not exhaustive, has the merit of showing a series of borrowings extending over many centuries. Arranged in chronological order, as far as possible, these borrowings show contemporary usage. Not a few of Scoto-French words must have got into the stream through well-known literary tradition from Chaucer and the alliterative poets onwards, but the contemporary usage, which the evidence here presented illustrates, stands outside of the convention of books and independent of any influence exercised by English. "While the great mass of the words cannot fail to appeal to the reader familiar with the Scots vernacular, a large proportion must have speedily dropped out of use. They are much in the position of those borrowings which we still owe to the war correspondent or the adventurous traveller in remote and little- known lands. They vanish with the conditions which led to their importation.

The second item, Primitive Aryan Civilisation, would seem, on a superficial view, to have only a remote connection with Lowland Scots. Closer study, however, will show it to be complementary to the opening article of the volume. That article aimed at linking on the vernacular to that primitive Teutonic influence which supplanted the prehistoric Celtic in the Lowlands. The present is an excursus into the wider field of ​comparative philology. It discusses the only accessible evidence for that matrix of culture, social custom and attitude to the facts of nature and life which moulded the vernacular of Scotland in common with its cognate European tongues.

The illustrations that I have here garnered owe much to the published researches and arguments of the late Professor Max Müller and to Professor Sayce. It was the writings of the former that most powerfully impelled me to follow up my youthful reading of Trench's charming studies into the wider field of comparative philology. But most of all is the article based on the teaching of the late Professor Aufrecht. He was the first holder of the Chair of Sanskrit and Comparative Philology in Edinburgh University. As these lectures have never been published, so far as I know, I believe I am doing a welcome service to linguistic study in incorporating them with my own researches.

1. Scoto-French in the Lowland Vernacular.[1]

But slight evidence of the "Auld Alliance" has survived in the vernacular. Any influences exerted on the nation by it were at no time more than political. France used Scotland merely as a thorn in the side of her rival, England. The political movement came to a head during the Reformation struggle, but the battle of Langside (1568) dealt the final blow at the Catholic reaction. Even this political line of influence has left scarce a survivor in the vocabulary. The long reign of the Old Faith might have been more fruitful. On the evidence of language the hold of Catholicism on Lowland Scotland has been of the slightest. The once familiar Pasch (Easter) and a dairgie (Domine, dirige nos) are among the very few of its survivals.

Actual intercourse between the two countries was of the trading kind, but such interchanges as existed were carried on with Northern France through Dutchmen and Dutch ports, ​mainly Campvere, or through the Huguenot city of Bordeaux, then also in the hands of Dutch traders. But the East Coast of England, particularly the port of Hull, came under similar influences, so that no list of word exchanges can claim to be in any special sense Scottish. Word exchanges under this industrial head have mainly a social significance.

In other two directions seventeenth-century influence might well have been very considerable and lasting. These were the military and the academic. The Scot abroad, under both aspects, has played a part in literature in no way borne out by the evidence of the vernacular. A typical soldier of fortune, Sir James Turner, tells us he went through all his Continental fighting without knowing French. Graham of Claverhouse, though he got his baptism of fire abroad, uses no French in his correspondence save such a word as allya (Fr. allié), an ally, relation by marriage, but it is often used by contemporary Scottish writers. In the arts of peace many youthful Scots gained posts in Huguenot colleges, such as the Melvills, Boyd of Trochrig, and others, but they use scarce any borrowings from French. Sir Thomas Hope, Lord-Advocate, through the critical times of the Bishops' War and the Solemn League and Covenant, himself the grandson of a Frenchman settled in Edinburgh, had some of his sons educated in France, but uses surprisingly few French words. Sir Thomas Lauder, again, later known as Lord Fountainhall, studied and travelled in France through the middle of the century, but he uses very little French. After his day, under the influence of the English Revolution and the Orange King William, the academic stream flowed towards Holland.

Borrowings from one language by another are either few or many, just as one regards the question of origin. The evidence of this origin, in the case of Scoto-French, is to be found in the literature of the past, but here we come under book and imitative influences, and these are deceptive. I present a few examples from sources that can hardly be called literary. Such evidence has the merit of being contemporary, undesigned, and unbiassed by art. I now present it in chronological sequence, premising that it is in no degree exhaustive. It has, however, the advantage of showing popular use of the words at the time.

​

"Ledger of Andrew Halyburton" (1492-1503), ed. by Cosmo Innes.[2]

This quaint old Edinburgh merchant was stationed at Campvere as "Conservator of the Privileges of the Scottish Nation in the Netherlands," and therefore at the gateway of traffic as it passed to and fro between Scotland and the Continent.

Callandis.—James Homyll, his brother-in-law and agent in Scotland, "payit me wi' challenges" (reproaches) "and evill wordis and onsufferabyll. God keip all guid men fra sic callandis!" In a French translation of "Tam o' Shanter" the "chapman billies leave the street," of the opening scene, appears as—

"Quand les chalands abandonnent la rue."

This word, said to be Flemish rather than French, has long been familiar as callant, a lad. In the days of old "Heriot's" in Edinburgh, the foundationers were known as callants.

Chamer; Fr. chambre. The Archdeacon of St. Andrews gets "a mat to his chamer" (1499).

Corf, a basket; Fr. corbeille, Lat. corbis—"A kynkyn of olives and a corf of apill orangis."

Cramoisie, cramasie, a cloth; O.Fr. cramoisin, cramoisie, a form of crimson.

Oralog (mendyn), a watch; Fr. horloge, a clock. Bishop Elphinstone, founder of King's College, Aberdeen, has his orolog repaired and fitted with a new case in Flanders through Halyburton's agency.

Pantonis, slippers—"Blak welvot to be pantonis to the Kingis grace." Akin to patten, an iron ring that could be slipped on to the sole of shoe or clog to admit of moving dry-shod about the miry surroundings of the untidy clachan; Mod.Fr. patin is a skate. The Accounts show the older form of the word. Diez connects it with Fr. patte, a paw.

Pasch, Easter; Fr. Pâque for Pasque—"Hydis, I trow, salbe the best merchandise that comes here at Pascha, for thar is mony folkis that speris about thaim" (1502). This word had long been familiar through the Romish services of the Church.

​Say (red), silk; Fr. soie, bought for the Archdeacon of St. Andrews for a frontal to an altar.

Taffetas, plain silk cloth; Fr. taffetas. Halyburton uses the French form.

Tapischere, tapestry—"Twa drauchtis fra Edinburgh to Striveling." Fr. tapisserie, tapis, a carpet.

Tassis of silver, cups; Fr. tasse.

"Ye'll bring me here a pint of wine,
A server and a silver tassie."—Old Song, 1636.

Twis—"Twis, to put all the silver weschell in." Fr. étui, a case. Common in German as a borrowed word.

"Accounts of the Lord High Treasurer," vol. vii., 1538-41.

As this volume contains the expenses of James V.'s visit to France, it is unusually rich in foreign words, but few have lived or come into common use.

Babuttis, bibs—"For making of twa collaris of welvot plattis, twa babuttis, twa litill collaris." Fr. bavette, from bave, slaver; Sc. bavard, worn out, bankrupt; Fr. baveur, a driveller.

Boge—"Ane chandellair callit the boge." Fr. bougie, wax-candle, so named from a town in Morocco.

Buye, a water vessel—"Ane grete watter buye." O.Fr. buie. Bain, a tub, now firmly rooted in some districts of Scotland, may be the Gael. bainne, milk.

Curchessis, night-caps—"Curchessis to the kingis grace." Fr. couvre-chef.

Disjonis, breakfast—"To by milk to hir disjonis." Fr. déjeuner. This word lived a long time. The item here referred to was for the "barn Elizabeth," a natural child of James V.

Dornick, linen cloth, made at Tournay, whence the name.

Dule-weid, mourning dress; Fr. deuil, mourning.

Fleggearis, arrow makers paid "For the foddering of ijᵐ auld ganzeîs" (arrows) "for the croce bow." Fr. flèche, an arrow, hence Fletcher.

Tailzeour, telzour, tailor; vernac. teelyir, tiler; Fr. tailleur.

After the Union of 1603 James I. made strenuous efforts to foster trade and home industries in the poor country he had ​left. The records of his Privy Council, sitting in Edinburgh, tell the story of how his masterful chancellors tried to carry out his wishes on the lines of a benevolent protection. In this connection the tariff of 1612 is of much social import. From its items I cull a number of French names of articles, which, if not in actual use, might probably be imported at the same time as the article.

Buist, a needle-case; sand-buist, sand-box, used instead of blotting-paper, as it is still in Germany. The mark Brandenburg was called the Sand-Büchse of the Holy Roman Empire; O.Fr. bostia, boiste, a box; Mod.Fr. boîte, boisseau (whence bushel).

Babeis or Puppettis, dolls; Ital. babbeo, a blockhead; and Fr. babiole, whence the baby clown on the head of the staff with which the Elizabethan stage fool excited laughter. There was deep contempt in Cromwell's "Take away that bauble (the mace)." Puppettis is the Fr. poupée, a doll. Children used to fashion a miniature stage of paper on which tiny figures were moved. Eyelets gave a peep of the play to the invitation, "A preen to see the puppie-show."

Chaffing dishes, braziers, warming-pans; Fr. chauffer, to warm by rubbing

Chandlers, chandeliers, candlesticks; chandelle, a candle.

Grogram, Fr. gros-grain, a coarse cloth.

Tripans, Fr. trépan, a surgical instruinent.

Trencher, wooden platters, a word in universal use; Fr. tranchoir.

Turcusses, turkes, twisters, pincers, tourniquets; Ital. torciare, to twist (Lat. torquere); O.Fr. torser, to pack up, gives the familiar turs, to pack up in a bundle, to carry off hastily.

Turse.—The Exchequer Accounts have numerous entries for tursing household and other stuff (cf. truss, trousseau, torch; lit. a twist). To tirr has long been in use in the sense of raising or disturbing, for example, the soil of field or garden.

An interesting Commentary on the Tariff of Custom Dues (1612) is preserved in the library of Glasgow University in the shape of a shrivelled leather pocket-book which accompanied ​James Bell, a merchant burgess of Glasgow, on two business journeys to Holland, 1621-22.[3] He was not what we would now call a foreign merchant, but took with him, on commission, the ready money of his clients for investment in trading ventures. The words of his entries must, therefore, have been in actual use at the Cross and Tolbooth of Glasgow.

Chandlers—"To by to Mairen" (so pronounced still) "Stewart sum chandlers" (candlesticks) "turnit." Fr. chandelier.

Chyres (grein), green chairs; Fr. chaire in sense of a pulpit; from Lat. cathedra, a seat, see of a bishop. Bell's spelling (sometimes chayres occurs) seems to follow the French pronunciation.

Cissills, probably chisels from Fr. "ciseler, to cut or carve with a chisel."—Cotgrave.

Frenyes, fringes; Fr. frange. Bell followed the Dutch pronunciation and spelling, frangie, where g has a y sound.

Gabarts, cappers, the lighters that brought the goods up the Clyde from Dumbarton; Fr. gabare, a lighter.

Plumbe damies, long the name of the damson in Scotland. Plumdammas is a character in Scott's "Heart of Midlothian." The form follows the French, prune de damas or Damascene plum.

Suker, sugar, interesting as following the Fr. pronunciation.

Tincler, wire, tinsel, thread; Fr. étíncelle, what glitters; from Lat. scintilla, a spark.

Travelloure, Fr. travailleur—"Giffin to Jhone Mortoun, travelloure, ane barl seap" (soap), pronounced as it still is in the vernacular. In the seventeenth century ea=ê in French, as it still is in Ireland; compare the Irishman's repeat and Fr. répéter. Almost the sole survival in English is great. In Pope's time tea was pronounced tay.

Trebuchet, a balance; "trie balks" or wooden beams, he elsewhere calls them. He uses the actual French word, not, as it appears, ever naturalised among us. As a noun trebuchet means a bird-trap ; as a verb, to stumble. The basic notion of a beam is found in the O.Fr. buc (bucket), a trunk.

​Turkes, grappling irons; cf. turcusses above, "hammer and turkes" for the blacksmith.

Annatto is a surprising exotic to reach Glasgow through Holland early in the seventeenth century. It takes the forms annotto, arnotto, and is the South American name for a tree, common also in Jamaica, the seed of which dyes silk a deep yellow, and is used for colouring butter, cheese, chocolate. I saw the preparation from it quite lately on an Ayrshire cheese farm.

Wirsat (worsted) passments, Fr. passementerie, a novel addition to the comforts supplied in a seventeenth-century booth.

Caprus, copperas—"ane trie caprus;" Fr. couperose; Lat. cupri rosa, rose of copper, used to dye black and make ink. The story goes that a Glasgow merchant sent to London an order for copperas, but his bad spelling was read as capers, of which the weight sent seemed completely to outrun the possible demand. Fortunately a shortage of capers followed and he cleared his stock at a thumping profit.

Chapelet is exactly the Fr. form, and diminutive form of chapel; Mod.Fr. has chapeau, a hat.

The old Latin grammars give long lists of vocables, supposed to be useful to the boys in the absence of dictionaries. The meanings given frequently throw light on the current vernacular. The French elements in them are few. The Vocabula have, from our point of view, little or no educational value, as they are not well adapted to aid either construing or speaking. They must have commended themselves to the compilers as instruments of torture.

Andrew Duncan, rector of Dundee Grammar School, regent in St. Leonard's College, St. Andrews, and minister of Crail, introduced the following in the Appendix Etymologiæ to his Latin Grammar (1595):—

Boise, vter, a wine boise (wine skin, bottle, jar); O.Fr. busse, buse, buce, a cask for wine. As Dutch buyse, the word was long known in Scotland as a buss or fishing-boat.

Bonet, riscus, a bowell (bole), or bonet caisse; Fr. bonnet.

Caisse, bowel, a basin, is still vernacular. Caisse is Lat. capsa, whence capsule.

​Bruit, rumor, fama; brute, bruit, noise.

Chicknawd, talitrum, a spang, a chicknawd (chiquenaude, a fillip, flirt or bob—Cotgrave); naude=nœud, knot, knuckle; Lat. nodus, whence nodule. "Talitrum, a rap or fillip with the finger."—Suetonius.

Hurcheon, herinaceus, a hurcheon; Fr. hérisson; Lat. ericius, the prickly one, the hedgehog. From it comes urchin.

Lowe, liceor, to lowe (bid at auction), to cheape; allouer, formerly alouer, let out to hire; Low Lat., to admit a thing as proved, place, use, expend; allocare; "the law allows (assigns) it to you," in "Merchant of Venice."

Mowles, pernio, the mowles in the heels (chilblains); Fr. mule, slipper, kibe.

Osill, merula, an osill; avis, the blackbird (merle); Fr. oiseau, and Shakspere's "ousel-cock." Also derived from Ger. Amsel, found in England as early as the eighth century (Murray).

Panton, crepida, a pontoun or mule (slipper); Fr. patin, Eng. patten. Creepie (crepida) is a low stool, "Ne sutor ultra crepidam," let the cobbler stick to his stool. Murray says of panton, "origin unknown, but certainly not from patin."

Parsell, petro-selinum, parsell; Fr. persil. Sir Thomas Hope, in his "Diary" (1641), speaks of a dream in which he is caught in a thick mist, in hortis petrocellanis, as if it were in the gardens of parsley. But he is not thinking of the Lat. petro-selinum, from which "parsley" is derived, but punningly refers to his pet name for his favourite mansion of Craighall, near Ceres, in Fife. On another occasion he enters a solemn vow when on the point of setting out ad Petro-cellam (Craighall).

Pertrik, perdix, a pertrik, paitrik, partridge; Fr. perdrix.

Pursie, anhelus, pursie or short-ended. Pursie is short-winded. Palsgrave has pourcif for Mod.Fr. poussif, so poulser for pousser, to push, from Lat. pulsare. End, breath, is very common in Barbour and old writers, but long obsolete. It is of Norse origin.

Sowder, ferrumen, sowder, solder; Fr. soudure; Mod.Sc. soother.

Suldarts, cohors, a band of suldarts; Fr. soldart, a soldier.

Triacle, theriace, triacle, remeid against poison. This is the modern treacle, a word with quite a history. Mod. Eng. a sove​reign remedy, from θηριακός, belonging to wild or venomous beasts. The late Dr. MacCulloch, of Greenock, made this linguistic "treacle" the subject of a delightful article in an early number of "Good Words."

Truncheor, orbis, a truncheor or round body; Fr. tranchoir.

David Williamson's "Vocabula" forms an appendix to his "Rudimenta Grammatices," published by Robert Sanders in Glasgow, 1693. His grammar was one of the latest of the many recensions of the Dunbar Rudiments. Originally compiled by the first of the post-Reformation pedagogues, Andrew Simson, schoolmaster in Dunbar, it had held its place in all the grammar schools for over a century. It was soon after superseded by the still more famous work, the first of the kind to be written in English, of Thomas Ruddiman (1714).

Allya, affinitas; Fr. allay, allié, ally, relation (by marriage), in very general use during the seventeenth century. Claverhouse introduces it in his letters.

Awmrie, repositorium, an ambrie; an awmrie, a chest or cupboard; awmous dish, a beggar's platter; Fr. aumônerie, aumône, Eng. alms.

Buist, pixis, a buist. Diez says that in the tenth century buxida, from accus. of the Greek pyx, a box, was corrupted into buxida, bustia, whence O.Fr. boiste, Mod.Fr. boîte.

Choffer, foculus mensarius, a choffer or choffing dish; Fr. chauffer, to warm. This preserves a trace of the old-fashioned brazier for the table. Chauffeur is the very latest importation of the word. But the Scots workman has long called his portable fire-grate a choffer.

Disjune, jentaculum, breakfast and disjune; Fr. déjeuner. This word is quite archaic now.

Pottage, puls, pottage, as if made from pea soup (pulse); Fr. potage.

Servet, mappa, a servet or any tablecloth; Fr. serviette.

Siedge, classis, the siedge; Fr. siège, a seat. Used in this sense by Spenser.

Trencher, quadra, a four-neuked trencher; a four-cornered wooden platter, hence "corner dish;" Fr. tranchoir.

From James Carmichael, of Haddington Grammar School, ​whose Latin Grammar (1587) renders some of his vocabula in the vernacular—

Chesbol, the poppy, from the ball-like capsule or seed-case; Lat. capsa; Fr. caissé.

Tirlets=cancelli, from Fr. tirailler, to pull about. He "tirled at the pin," the equivalent of our knocker, is a phrase in an old ballad. The cancelli were the movable cross slits of wood that did duty for glass in the old-time windows. In the Accounts for the city of Glasgow, 1713, is the item—"For new glass windows to the session-house and tirlies" of the Hie Kirk or cathedral ("Glas. Records," 1691-1717).

During the seventeenth century there was increased intercourse between the two countries, but there was little bond of national sympathy. On the absorbing Church and constitutional questions no link of connection could be formed. The exiled Royalists, and the Continental wanderings of the Scot abroad, whether for military service or learning, made no great linguistic impression. The following may be given as a sample of borrowings as they appear in some books of the century:—

From Sir Thomas Hope's Diary (1633-45)—

Abillzeaments, modern habiliments; Fr. habillement, from habile, ready.

Bruttit (Fr. bruit)
Capitane (O.Fr.) 		"It is bruttit that Capitane Cokburne is deid."

Essay (essai)—"It sall haif ane essay" (trial).

Oblissis
Oblischement 		obliger.

Travell (travailler)—"I sall travell to draw them to their tryall."

Valour (valeur)—"The valour of the tithes."

From a contemporary report by an Englishman on the Covenanters at Duns Law (1639)—

Bases. "The blue bonnets have blue woollen waistcoats, pair of bases of plaid and stockings of same, pair of pumps, mantle of plaid over left shoulder and under right arm, pocket before knapsack, pair of dirks on either side pocket. . . . We ​gazed in wonder at targes and dorlachs or quivers of mane of goat or colt with hair on and hinging behind so as to be like a tail." The garment in question here was worn between doublet and short hose in the fashion of the seventeenth-century kilt. Fishermen wore such a garment loose till the end of the eighteenth century. The connection of bases with Fr. bas, a stocking, is disputed. Murray says, "Apparently an English application of Base, bottom, lowest part."

From Row's Appendix to Blair's "Autobiography," on the execution of Hackston of Rathillet (1680) for the murder of Archbishop Sharp—

Panse, to staunch a wound; Fr. panser. "The Council had a singular care of him, causing panse his wounds, &c., lest he should die before coming to the scaffold." Also in Montgomery's "The Cherry and the Slae" (1628).

From the "Inventory of Goods of Sir Peter Young" (1628), pedagogue to James I.—

Muntar, a watch; Fr. montre.

From Spalding's "Troubles," on Charles I.'s entry into Edinburgh, 1633

Calsey, causey; Fr. chaussée; Revel—"The calsey was revelled (fenced) frae the Nether Bow to the Stinking Style, with staiks of timber dung in the end." This seems to be an English form, from Lat. revellere, meaning to draw or keep back, as "Revelling the humours from their body.”—Harvey in "Imper. Dict."

Scoryettis, burgess; O.Fr. escorcher, to pluck off the skin, to burn the surface of anything; Eng. scorch. Scoryettis was some kind of cake or confection.

From the diary of Sir Th. Lauder, when studying in France (seventeenth century)—

Bitch-full—"Eleventh Nov., St. Martin's, a very merry day in France for Swiss and Alemands (l'Alemande), who drink like fishes. Find only three good feasts,—St. Martin's, les trois Rois" (of Cologne, I suppose), "and Mardi Gras. All drinkes bitch full theis dayes." Burns has this expression for extreme intoxication. Fuller form is bicker-fou, i.e. full as the beaker, to the ​bung. Can this be Fr. becquée, a billful? If it be a metaphor from bitch in the ordinary sense it is unintelligible.

Bools—Pery—Tap—"Bairns in France have exercise of the tap (toupie, a spinning-top), the pery (pirouette), the cleking (small wooden bat like a racket), and instead of our gouf, which they (know) not, they haves hinyes." Add hools, marbles (Fr. boule); also in bowling, Lat. bulla, a piece of lead.

From "Glasgow Records" (1691-1717): Burgh Records Society, 1908. We have in these Records the familiar usage in a Scots burgh at the time of the Union—

Bilgets—"To the quarter-master for his pains of giveing bilgets for the localities" (1695). Here we have an attempt to render Fr. billets, the l'mouillé, in which was a familiar Scots sound. We have also frenzies for fringes, where the same sound is represented by z. Similarly the name Daniel is spelt Dainziell, cf. guinzees (guineas).

Chirurgeon, surgeon—"Helping him to satisfie the chirurgen and furnishing drogs" (1696).

Drogs, as above; Fr. drogues. The pronunciation has remained to this day.

Fond, a fund; Fr. fond.

Gadge, a measure—"The baxters have raised their dame a considerable hight above the gadge and measure concluded." The word is still so pronounced. It is Eng. gauge, gage, to measure the contents of a vessel, and of French and Low Lat. origin. It is not necessarily a borrowed word, but the pronunciation, gadge, and the derivative gadger, an exciseman, are distinctively Scots.

Lettron, a reading desk—"The lettron of the clerk's chamber." Fr. lutrin; Eng. lectern; O.Eng. leterone, lectrun, from Low Lat. lectrinum. "It has no connection with lecture (Skeat). As the precentor's desk it lived till that functionary was ritualised out of existence.

Nottor, a notary—"His pairtie called in a nottar" (1701); Fr. notaire.

Syer, a sewer—"Go no farder youth nor the north side of the syre between gavell and well" (1692) . . . "a strand or sayre" (gutter). The word is now pronounced syver. Skeat traces it ​to the O.Eng. sewe and shore in Shore-ditch, and derives from O.Fr. essuier, esuer, to dry, but the true sense is to drain dry; Lat. exsucare.

The "Records" yield an interesting group of Latin-derived words, mostly verbs, which, though most probably only a reflection of grammar-school influences, are curious as following French rather than English formation. They are these—

Accrese, Fr. accroissement; Eng. in-crease—"Conveniencie that might accrese to this burgh" (1696).

Compesce, Lat. compescere, to restrain—"To compesce these troubles" (1706).

Contigue, adjoining, contiguous; Fr. contigue—"Four seats contigue in the head of the trans or entry" (1702).

Dite, to write; Eng. in-dite; Lat. dictus; Fr. dit—"For paines in dyteing securities" (1700).

Evite, avoid; Lat. vitare, to shun; Fr. éviter—"Put to expense which they cannot evite" (1715).

Exerce, exercise; Fr. exercer; Lat. exercere—"Exerceing the said office" (1693).

Exoner, exonerate; Fr. exonérer—"It is but just that they be exonered and freed" (1716).

Expede, Fr. expédier, to despatch, expedite (cf. impede); Lat. expediri—"Expenses depursed for expeding the signature of the saids lands" (1696). The plural adjective, saids, is a curious survival of Norman-French usage.

Exeem, exempt; Lat. exemptus—"Fisher baats are exeemed by law" (1697). Fr. exempter is not followed here.

Obleidge, oblies; Fr. obliger, to bind—"Inact & obleidge themselves as shall be needcessitated” (1700). The pronunciation here is English of Queen Anne's time.

Suplee, supply; Fr. suppléer—"Power to lay on the suplee and public burden of this burgh" (1701).

The following words, from general sources, represent elements that still live in the vernacular:—

Ashet, Fr. assiette, a plate or dish, large platter on which meat is served.

​Barley, a truce in a game; Fr. parlez. Barley-break was an old English game.

Beaver, Fr. bevoir, boire, the merendum or lunch, otherwise four-oors. It was a grammar school vocable.

Bawbee—"Ane balbe," St. Andrews Kirk Session Records, ii. 683; Fr. bas billon, base coin.

Butry, bajan, a freshman at Aberdeen University, has been explained as from butor, a booby, and bejaune for becjaune, a nestling (lit. yellow-beak), a ninny.

Certes, my certie! Fr. certes, indeed, certainly.

Brace, a chimney piece—"A bracebrod in excise chamber" ("Glas. Records," 1706). This may be from Fr. bras, an arm. Compare jamb, a projection or wing; Fr. jambe, a leg, familiar as the jambs or sides of the fireplace.

Cheetie-pussie! Fr. chat.

Close, Fr. clos; vaucluse=vallis clausa, a square, a court.

Condie, Fr. conduit, a passage, pipe.

Fattrels, falderals; O.Fr. fatraille, trumpery; fatras, rubbish, trumpery.

Bowet, a hand lantern; Fr. boîte, a little box. Spalding says that when Cromwell ordered the Edinburgh burgesses to show bowets at their close-heads nightly, the effect was to bring back the day. Cf. moon, as Macfarlane's bowet for reiving purposes.

Cummer, kimmer; Fr. commère. Cummers' or gossips' feast (eighteenth century), described, as practised in Edinburgh, by Eliz. Mure of Caldwell (1712).—"Caldwell Papers."

Dyvour, a bankrupt; Fr. devoir; Lat. debtor. Murray rejects devoir and suggests Eng. diver in the sense of "plunger," not a very satisfactory explanation.

Fachous, facheuse, troublesome to do. "Its fachous wark pikin' a paitrik;" Fr. fâcheux.

Fent, in a lady's skirt; Fr. fente, a slit, cleft.

Fushonless, pithless; Fr. foison, plenty, in Shakspere.

Gag, in the game of "smoogle the gag;" Fr. gage, pawn, pledge; also in the form geg.

Groser, a gooseberry; Fr. grossier, coarse; but other native forms are grosart and grozet.

Haverel, a simpleton; Fr. poisson d'avril, an April fool. Also ​explained as from haver, to talk foolishly, itself of unknown origin.

Jigot, Fr. gigot, leg of mutton.

Jambs, sides of a fire-place; Fr. jambe, a leg.

Pace, paiss, peise=weights of a clock; Fr. peser, to weigh—regularly used in the seventeenth century, long obsolete.

Parish, Fr. paroisse. Mediæval English as well as Scotch.

Pend, and paund; Fr. pendre, to hang; an archway, a hanging round a bed, a valance.

Petticoat-tails, species of shortbread; as if from petits-gatelles (Fr. gâteau, a cake). See Meg Dods's "cookery" in "St. Ronan's Well."

Popinjay, Fr. papegai, the parrot. See "Old Mortality."

Puppie—"A preen to see the puppie-show," children's play; a puppet show; Fr. poupée, a doll.

Sklate, slate; Fr. éclater, to fly into fragments.

Spaul, the shoulder; Fr. épaule; Lat. spatula.

Sybows, a species of onion, young onions; Fr. ciboule; Lat. cepula, cepa, an onion.

Joist, a beam. "When the building is first joist heigh" ("Glas. Records," 1696); M.Eng. gyste, jist; O.Fr. gîste, place to lie on (Cotgrave); M.Fr. gîte, lodging, etymologically a support for the floor. Scots distinguishes joist (jaste), just (jüste), juice (jice).

Toolye, tuilzie, a broil, quarrel; Fr. touiller, to mix confusedly.

Turner, a coin once very common in Scotland=2d. Sc.=a bodle; Fr. tournois, because coined at Tours.

Tureen, a soup basin; Fr. terrine, an earthen pan; Lat. terra, earth.

Treviss (common in Scots and in Chaucer), division between stalls in a stable; O.Fr. tref; Lat. trabs, a beam.

Tweel—"Row weel the bonnie tweel, row weel the plaidie;" Fr. toile, cloth.

Scoto-French in Burns's Poems.

Burns was proud enough of his French to air it in his correspondence, but the words he blends with his native vernacular must represent the popular absorption of centuries.

​Aumous, alms, almesse; Pr. aumône. "She held up her greedy gab, Just like an amous dish."—"Beggars."

Awmrie, a cupboard; almonry, aumônerie. Almerieclos, in old Arbroath, stood on the site of the Court where was the awmrie or treasury of the Abbey.

Cadie—"E'en cowe the cadie" (Ch. Fox).—"Earnest Cry," Fr. cadet.

Castocks, kale stocks or runts; as if for chou-stocks, from Fr. chou, a cabbage; Lat. caulis. Stock is, of course, of native origin.

Corbie—"Corbies and clergy are a shot richt kittle."—"Brigs of Ayr." Fr. corbeau. Compare the "corbie-stepped" gable of old houses.

Dool, Fr. deuil, mourning. "O' a' the numerous human dools, Ill hairsts, daft bargains, cutty stools."—"Toothache."

Douce—"Ye dainty deacons, an' ye douce conveneers. To whom our moderns are but causey cleaners."—"Brigs of Ayr." Fr. doux, douce; chaussée.

Dour, Fr. dur, hard. "When biting Boreas, fell and dour."—"Winter Night."

Dyvour, a debtor; Fr. devoir. "Crash them a' to spails. An rot the dyvors i' the jails!"—"To Beelzebub."

Gree, prize; Fr. gré, grade, rank, degree; Sc. to bear the gree. "Where glorious Wallace aft bure the gree."—"To Wm. Simson."

Gusty, Fr. goût. "An' just a wee drap spiritual burn in, An' gusty sucker."—"Scotch Drink."

Hotch, to fidget. "Even Satan glowred, and fidged fou fain. And hotched and blew wi' might and main."—"Tam o' Shanter." Hocher, to jog, shake, toss.

Joctelegs, knives, from Jacques de Liege, famous cutler. "An' gif the castocks sweet or sour, Wi' joctelegs they taste them."—"Hallowe'en."

Mell, Fr. mêler, to mingle. "It sets you ill Wi' bitter, dearthfu' wines to mell our foreign gill."—"Scotch Drink."

Tawpie, foolish, thoughtless young folks; taupe, talpo, a mole. "Now gawkies, tawpies, gowks, and fools, Frae colleges and boarding schools, May sprout like simmer puddock stools, In glen or shaw."—Verses written at Selkirk. Gawkie; Fr. gauche; gowk, the cuckoo.

​Toy, toque, a bonnet. "I wadna been surprised to spy You on an auld wife's flannen toy."—"To a Louse."

2. Primitive Aryan Civilisation.

"There is no Aryan race in blood, but whoever, through the imposition of hands, whether of his parents or his foreign masters, has received the Aryan blessing, belongs to that unbroken spiritual succession which began with the first apostles of that noble speech, and continues to the present day in every part of the globe. Aryan, in scientific language, is utterly inapplicable to race. It means language and nothing but language; and if we speak of Aryan race at all, we should know that it means no more than x + Aryan speech." Thus does Professor Max Müller tell us that in attempting to reconstruct an ideal social unity for the Aryan race we must not look for aid to ethnology. The question is one which concerns the continuity of speech not of blood, an inheritance of mental attitude towards the world of spiritual and natural phenomena within and without us far subtler and profounder than any perpetuation of the characteristics of complexion and feature; for an Aryan speech writes its own history in virtue of those inherent principles which govern its growth and decay, or rather regeneration—principles which, by reason of their persistency of type and uniformity of action, alone go far to prove in this case a primitive social unity. What those principles are it is not my object either to investigate or prove, but rather to show how those mutual affinities, which are known to exist within a European unity of tongues, and connect themselves again with a certain well-marked Asiatic unity, point to a time when the makers of those tongues dwelt somewhere together, and developed a common civilisation whose leading characteristics are stamped upon Aryan progress down to the present day.

If we exclude, on the one hand, the Magyars of the Hungarian plain and the Osmanli of Turkey—both the remains of an irruption from Asia within the historic period—and, on the other, the prehistoric Basques of the Pyrenees and the nomadic Lapps and Finns of the northern mark, we find that all the ​ languages of modern Europe have well-established racial affinities. They group themselves round four centres, which, again, are further reducible to two. Let us regard the map of Europe as a rhomboidal figure with its greater axis lying east and west, and corresponding to the line of the Alps with their prolongations. In the lower half place the classical tongues—Greek right, Latin and her Romance sisters central and left. In the upper half, again, across the snowy peaks and stretching far northwards over the great central plain, lost amid elfin meres and gnome-haunted forest, roam the Teutons. By the eastern angle, pressing close for hundreds of years upon Roman and Teuton alike, come the Slavs of the Southern Steppes and the Sarmatian plain ; while, thrust far away into the western angle, the old-world Celt looks sadly on the mist-clad mountain and the melancholy western main. These four groups, with a wide range of dialectic variation peculiar to each, have yet innumerable features in common that constitute them a distinct European unity. They range themselves, however, under two distinct types—a Classical and a Teutonic. The Slav is a link of connection to east, Celt to west, but both lean to south, and, as far as phonetic affinities are concerned, are Aryan dialects of the Classical type.

The discovery of Sanskrit to western scholars, dating from the foundation of the Calcutta Asiatic Society (1784), revealed a singularly suggestive Aryan unity existing in the far east, and possessing in its sacred books a literature that was old long before the Homeric poems took definite shape. The ancestors of the Hindoos and the old Persians reached the Indus together, and there developed a common religious and social system. They named the great river (the Indus), Sindhu, the goer, the runner. The country beyond was named, from the river, Sindhya, the Scinde of Napier's punning despatch, Peccavi (I have sinned). After this people divided, the western or Persian branch developed phonetic laws of their own, such as the use of an h for a Sanskrit s, so that, when the Greeks came in contact with them, these transmitted to us the name of the river as the Hindus or Indus, and the country as Hindia or India. This Persian or Iranic branch spread over the plateau of Iran, and their speech is now known as that of the Zend-Avesta and the cuneiform ​ inscriptions of Darius. Their Hindoo kinsmen pnshed beyond the country of the seven rivers into the Dakshin-aranya, or great southern forest of the Deccan, calling the aborigines blacks, just as in later ages Clive's soldiers knocked their high- caste descendants on the head as niggers. A great religious schism seems to have accentuated some original distinctions between the two peoples. The Sanskrit deva, a god, became in Zend a demon, while the Hindoos retaliated by making Asura a giant at war with the Vaidic gods. The Persians, on the other hand, put Asura (root, as, to be) in the place of honour, who then became the Ahura-mazda or Ormuzd of Zoroastrian dualism. But the Sanskrit grammarians had no difficulty in inventing a derivation for the word, namely, a not, and sura a god.

The proofs of the connection between this Asiatic and the former European unity form the very kernel of comparative philology. They are invaluable, not alone in the phonetic aspect of the question (Sanskrit and Zend range themselves, as far as Grimm's law is concerned, under the Classical or southern European group), but still more, and of far deeper import, in respect of the clue they afford to the difficult problems of comparative grammar and mythology. Suffice it here to say that Sanskrit explains the significance of the name Aryan as an eponym for the whole family. In the Vedas the Aryas are believers in the Vaidic gods in opposition to their Gentile enemies the Dasyus. Later, it meant belonging to the three upper castes, and especially the third or cultivators of the soil. Its root is seen in Lat. ar-are, and English ear, to plough. The name points to that immemorial custom which loves to dignify a nation or a family by associating its origin with the possession of land, and proves the early existence of that Aryan earth-hunger which reaches its acme in Ireland, the Erin that is said to be just another form of the common race-name.

No one can ever venture to conjecture when all these races existed as a primitive unity, or why they broke up, or in what order, or whence sprung the initiative for that dialectic growth to which they owed their phonetic differences. But we have learned to know and distinguish the various branches of the stock, and to formulate the law under which all comparisons of them, one with another, must be studied. It remains now to ​apply this knowledge by comparing a few groups of cognate terms in the Aryan dialects in evidence of a linguistic unity, subsisting among the various members of the family, and of a relatively advanced stage of civilisation, reached by the proto-Aryans before their separation. Professor Max Müller has drawn up similar lists in his "Biographies of Words," and there he lays it down as a general rules that whatever words are shared in common by Sanskrit and Zend on one side, and any one of the Aryan languages on the other, existed before the great Aryan separation took place, and may be used as throwing light on Aryan civilisation, such as it was at that distant time." To this it has to be added that cognate terms, peculiar to one only of the unities (Asiatic or European), are evidence that they were developed after the primary schism, but existed antecedent to any secondary schism. Developments by growth within each unity from a common stock of primitive roots are evidence merely of the persistency of those distinctive Aryan peculiarities,—the inflexional system and that significant word-change whereby we continually specialise the general or generalise the special. Thus we confer epithets that in course of time become divested of their meaning—"the counters of wise men but the money of fools"—and consequently require an effort of literary emphasis to vitalise or supplant them, the secret, in short, of a rich and expressive vocabulary and a copious literature.

Contractions:—Vaidic, Sanskrit, Zend (Old Persian), Greek, Latin, Celtic (Irish, Welsh, Cornish, Gaelic), Slavonic, Lithuanian, Russian, Teutonic, Old High German, German, Icelandic, Gothic, Anglo-Saxon, Scottish, Old and Middle English, shown by their initials. Where no meaning is given after a word it may be assumed to be identical with that of the head-word under which it stands. Roots and radical meanings are in italic type.

Authorities consulted:—Professor Aufrecht's Lectures; Max Müller, "Biographies of Words," 1888; Skeat, "English Etymological Dict.," 1884; Fick, "Vergl. Wörterbuch der Indo-ger. Sprachen," 1870; Curtius, "Grundzüge der Griech. Etymol." 1873.

1. Family Ties.

Child-Words.—Papa, S. and Gr. tâta, L. tăta, C. tat, Sl. teta, Go. atta. Mama, S. attâ, T. aithei. Foster-parent, Ved. nanâ, ​L. nonnus, nonna (nun), Ved, ambhâ, Icel. Embla=Ambhâlâ (ancestress of human race), Ger. Amme.

Father, Pa—, protector, S. pitár, Gr. and L. pater, T. fadar, M.E. fader. Mother, Ma—, manager, S. màtár, L. and Sl. mater, C. máther, T. modar, M.E. moder. Husband, ruler, S. pati, L. potis (able), Sl. pats, Go. fath. Wife=producer, Ved. Gnâ (wife of the gods), S. [4]gânî (gana), wife, γυνή, Sl. jena, C. ben, Go. kwen, queen, quean. Son=begotten, or male child, Sl. and Go. sûnu, ὑίος (συιος), C. suth. Daughter=milkmaid, S. duhitar, θυγάτηρ, Sl. dukter, Ir. dear, Go. dauhtar. Brother, bearer, S. bhrâtar, L. frater, Gael. brathair, Sl. bratru, Go. bróthar. Sister, joy, happiness, S. svásar, L. soror (svosor), Ir. sethar, Sl. sestra, Go. swistar, M.E. suster. Father-in-Law, S. svaçura, ἑκυρος, L. socer (svocer), Cor. hveger, Sl. svekru, Go. swaihra, O.E. sveor, Ger. Schwieger. Widow, vindh, vidh=awanting, S. vidhávâ, L. vidua, W. gweddw, Sl. vidova, Go. widuwo, Ger. Wittwe. Orphan, bereft, Ved. arbha (little), L. orbus (a little one), ὀρφανός, C. arbe and T. arbi (inheritance). In addition, there are common terms for uncle, son, daughter, and sister-in-law, husband and wife's brother, grand-son, grand-daughter.

Aryan civilisation was distinctively social, based on the family unity. The terms expressive of the family ties are of two quite different kinds. The child-words (German Lall-wörter or prattle-words) seem to take us into the penetralia of word-making. They point to the monosyllabic stage of aboriginal speech, and do not conform to Grimm's law. The Semitic Abba claims kindred with them, while Nausikàä addresses her father as πάππα φίλε, O! dear papa, exactly as an English girl would. To our Celtic nurses we owe dad and daddy. In Wulfila the Goth began his Paternoster, "Atta unsar," whence the historic Att-ila or little father. Varro says that children in ancient Italy called food papa, father tata, and mother mama. Our spelling mamma is due to the mistaken connection with Lat. mamma, the breast. Nonnus and nonna were originally a mother's brother and sister. The Sans. akkâ is the Lat. Acca Larentia, mother of the Lares. The Ger. Oheim, Sc. eme, Boer ​oom, L. avus, avunculus (cf. uncle, nunkey), all point to a primitive type of family life. The other names for family relationship show a distinct advance on the monosyllabic type. We have now reached the significant or epithet stage. The affix -ter is a very common inflexion to show agency. Thus in the Vedas mâtar is used as a participle. The th in father and mother is thought to be due to the influence of brother. The Sans. vidhávâ, a widow, was early explained by the native grammarians as from vi=without, and a fictitious dhavâ=a husband. The initial gw in the Welsh is the general Celtic equivalent of Teutonic w, cf. guarantee=warrant, Guillaume=William. Under orphan, C. arbe appears in Sc. and M.E. orpiet=peevish, quarrelsome, and in the phrase, to erp=be constantly grumbling, "to harp upon a grievance." It will be observed that grandfather is unrepresented. The head of the family was the father, whether he was really so or not, and engrossed all attention. Grandson, however, was named, S. nápât, Ved. nap=offspring, and Lat. nepot (is), from a root nap=bind. With this our nephew and niece are cognate.

2. Man Generally.

Man=(a) thinker, Ved. Mánu, L. mâs (mans), T. Mannus, Go. mans;=(b) chosen, hero, S. vîra, L. vir, Ir. fear, Lit. vyras, Icel. verr, Go. wair, E. wor-ld, Ger. Wel-t;=(c) strong, S. nara, náry-a (manly), Oscan ner, Nero, Neria (wife of Mars) ἀνήρ;=(d) terrestrian, L. homo, Lit. zeme (land), Go. guman, yeoman, bride-groom. Young=guarded, S. yuvan, L. juvenis, Lit. jaunas, Go. juggo. Child=conceived, S. vi-garbha, Go. kil-thei, child, calf.

Of these terms the first (a) is specially Teutonic. The Hindoos and the Teutons both used the word, man, for the prototype or ancestor of the human race, and both recognised in man the possession of the god-like gift of reason that looks before and after. The commonest later names in Sans. are mân-ava and man-ushya. Go. mannisk is Ger. Men-sch, and is adjectival. The second (b) is the most widely diffused—S. vâra=suitor, vîrya=vires, vir-tus. Its compounds are extremely interesting: decurio and centurio contain it. Cantuarii is Latinised for Kent-were (men of Kent), wergeld was com​pensation for manslaughter, wor-ld is O.E. wer-old, the age of man, a seculum and sum of human experience, affording curious comparison with other modes of expressing such a wide generalisation. The third (c) is entirely awanting in Teut. and Slav. In Oscan ner was applied to the nobles in the State. The fourth (d) is not in Sans., and has had little vitality in Teut. The Go. guma Wulfila applies to Zacchams.

3. Home.

House=builded, S. damà, L. domus, Sl. domu, C. dam. Go. timrjan (build), timber, Gor. Zimmer. Door.—S. dvar (dhvar), θύρα, L. fores. Lit. durys (pl.), Go. daur. Straw-bed.—S. stara, L. torus, C. srath, Sl. straje. Go. strau-ja. Hamlet (1)=abode (viç=enter), S. veça, vaika, οἴκος, L. vîcus (veicus), Sl. visi, Go. weihs,—wich. (2) Fenced place.—(a) S. vara-ta. Worth (village), (b) O.E. tûn=town, Ger. Zaun (hedge), (c) S. pur (strong place), pura, πόλις, Lit. pilis, S. puru=plenus, plebs.

As the names for man show that the primitive Aryans had advanced far beyond the simple concepts that clustered round the hearth and child-life, and could cope with epithets that implied considerable powers of reflection and generalisation, so do those for house and home show a stage of comfort very different from that of the neolithic cave-dweller or the nomad Eskimo. One fancies in the terms for hamlet a distinction between northern and southern Aryans, due probably to the condition of the country over which each set had spread. In both cases a simple enclosure constituted a hamlet—outside, the village mark or common pasture land, and within, the homes. To this day in many parts of Germany the scattered homestead is unknown, the farmyard being a Hof in a village. The Sans. and Greek terms, however, add to the notion of a defended place that of a busy crowded populace that made its acropolis the rallying point for a more lively civic development in street and agora. Significant in this connection is the commonest later Sans. for a man, puru-sha, literally a townsman. The favourite Teutonic town, on the other hand, points to a more scattered backwoodsman kind of settlement. The North German plain is one vast monotonous expanse of wood and water, within whose ​limits the lonely settlers would develop a simpler bucolic society, slow of wit, dreamy, but home-loving. In Lowland Scotland a farm homestead is a town. Even a few houses standing apart and supposed to be, if not actually, enclosed within a hedge fence, form the cotton or cot-toun of the farm.

4. Domestic Animals.

Cattle=tethered, pastured.—S. paçu (pâça rope), L. pecus, Sl. peku, Go. faihu, A.S. feo, Ger. Vieh, fee, Sc. fe. Bull=strong.–Ved sthûra (bull), sthurin (beast of burden), sthula (strong), Gr. and L. taurus, Sl. turu, W. tarw, Go. stiur, steer. Ox=carrier.—S. ukshán, cf. L. veho (carry), W. y-chain (pl.), Go. auhsa (cf. wax, to grow), Ger. Ochse. Cow=(a) bellower.—S. go, gaus (m. and f.), Gr. and L. bos, Sl. gow, C. bo, M.E. cu, Ger. Kuh (for kavi); (b) milker, dhenu, θἴλυς (giving milk), L. filia, Lit. de-te (infans), Go. daddjan (suck). Sheep=(a) protected=youngling.—S. avi, avis (attached), Gr. and L. ovis, Lit. avi, Ir. oi, Go. awi-str (fold), awe-thi (flock), ewe; (b) clothed, invested—S. úrá (vara, woolly), urnâ (wool), urana (varuna, a wether), εἴρος (wool), L. vellus (fleece), Sl. vluna, W. gwlanen=flannel, Sc. flannen. Goat=agile.—S. aga (aga), agina=αἰλίς (goatskin), Sl. ozka. Horse=quick.—S. açva (akva), Z. aspa (Hydaspes) ἴππος, L. equus, Epŏna (goddess of horses), Lit. aszva, W. osw, Go. aihwa, A.S. ehu, Gael. and Ir. each. Foal=begotten.—S. pu-tra (son), pota (young), L. pullus, Go. fula, E. filly. Pig=(a) produced.—S. sú-kara, is, L sus. Lit. svini-ja, T. sv-ein; (b)=grubber.—S. grishvi (boar), ghrish-ti (piggie), χοἴρος (χορτιος) Norse and Sc. grice, E. Gris-kin. Dog–Ved. and S. çvan, κύων, L. canis (cvanis), Sl. szun, Ir. cu, Go. hunds.

These terms illustrate still more clearly the simple agricultural life of the Arpaus. They surround themselves with those domestic animals that still tenant every homestead, and name them with intelligent observation. All the dialects agree in giving a general significance to the name for cattle, and from the earliest period there is attached to it the sense of property, cf. cattle (capitalia), capital, and chattels. The beast of burden is the sturdy ox. In Sans. go-pa, a cowherd, gives a common word to rule or govern, and the Hindoo title Gaikwar still ​preserves the importance the original office. The Umbrian filia sus is a sucking pig. That so expressive and widespread a name as was given to the Aryan horse has not been preserved in common use among the Teutons is intelligible, and points to the east and open plain as its home. The Romance dialects have dropped the common Latin equus, while modern current Gael. and Ir. prefer capull and garron. That the initial aspirate in Greek is wrong is shown by such names as Aristippus.

5. Wild Animals.

Beast=O.E. deer, θήρ (θηρ) L. fera, Sl. zveri, Go. dius. Bear=shining, S. riksha (arksa), ἄρκτος, L. ursus (urcsus), Lit. lokis, Ir. art. Wolf=tearer, robber, S. vrika (Ved.=enemy). λύκος, L. lupus, Sl. vluku, C. fael, Go. wulfs. Mouse=thief, S. mûsh, μῦς, L. mus, Sl. misi, A.S. mûs, pl. —i, mys (mice=mise), L. mus-culus (muscle, creeping thing under the skin). Hare=cleft (nose), S. çaça (çasa), S. "man in moon" is hare in the moon, Sl. sasins, T. haso, hare. Serpent=(a) throttler, constrictor, S. ahi (aghi), ἔχις, (viper), L. anguis, Lit. angis, ἔγχελυς=anguilla (eel), C. escuing (water-snake), M.E. el (agla), Ger. Aal; (b) creeper, S. sarpa ἑρπετόν, serpens.

6. Birds.

Bird, generally, S. vi, οἰ-ωνός, L. avis, ovum, Sl. aje, T. ei (egg), pl. eigir.

Goose=gaping, laughing, S. hamsa (ghansa), χήν, L. anser, C. geiss (swan), Russ. gus', Bohemian hus (cf. John Huss), O.H.G. Kans, A.S. gós (gans). Duck, S. âti. L. anat—, νῖττα (ανετια), Lit. antis, O.H.G. Anut, Ger. Ente, O.E. ened, M.E. ened, d-rake (end-rik=duck-king). Crow=(a) noisy, S. kârava, κόραζ, L. corvus, O.H.G. Hraban, raven, L. crep-are, make a noise; (b) croaker, S. kruç (croak), Sl. kruk, C. cru, O.H.G. Hruoh, rook. Crane=calling, Z. krounkn, γέρανος, L. grus, C. garan, Sl. zervi, A.S. cran. Cuckoo, S. kokilá, κόκκυζ, L. cuculus, Sl. kukavica, C. cuach, T. kuckuk, Sc. gowk (gauche, gawky). Owl, S. uluka, ὀλολυγία, L. ulûcus, Sc. hoolet.

​

7. Plant Life.

Birch, S. bhûrga, Russ. bereza, Sc. birk, M.E. birche. Beech or Oak, [S. bhaga], S. bhaksh to eat, φηγός, L. fagus, O.H.G. Puohha (Buche), A.S. bók, O.E. bécen (adj.). Sallow=water-haunting, S. sara a pond, ἑλίκη, L. salix, Ir. saileach. O.H.G. Salahá, M.E. salwe, Sc. sauch. Osier, R. wi-, plait, S. veta-sá (reed), ἰτέα (willow), L. vitis (vine), W. gwden, Lit. zil-wittis (gray willow for baskets), Danish vidie, E. withe, wind, Sc. widdie. Reed, S. kaláma (reed-pen), κάλαμος, L. culmus (stalk), C. kalaf, Dutch halm, E. haulm (der. quill).

The last three groups are all important as affording some clue to the common home. The larger feræ naturæ are absent. Those we have here are familiar to the northern verge of the Temperate Zone. The ordinary features of the bear are overlooked here, and a name is given him that is connected with the place he occupies in mythology. Similarly, the name of the hare is accounted for by early folk-lore, in which he plays a large part all over the Aryan world. Under serpent-words it should be noted that there is no trace of any worship of the creature. In the larger forms it is dreaded, but for the harmless ones there is no change of radical meaning. From the Celtic clearly comes the Scotch ask or esk, the eft or newt. The bird-terms are few and all northern, notably the crane, which does not extend further east than Armenia. The use of the word as a machine, as well as bird, seems very old. These bird-terms are all of the imitative kind. Such creatures all attract attention first by their cries.

8. The Farm.

Field, R. ag—, drive, V. agra (agra, place where cattle are driven out), ἀγρός, L. Ager, Go. akr, E. acre. Path, R. pat-, spat-, stretch out, S. pathas, πάτος, L. pons (pathway), Sl. pati, T. fad, Sc. paeth. Plough, S. árya landholder, L. ar-are, Sl. orati to plough, Ir. ar-aim, I plough, S. irâ and urvarâ=ἔραζε ἄρουρα=arvum (ploughed land); S. ar-itra=C. ar-athor=L. ar-atrum (a plough), Norse aror, ἐρετμος=L. remus (oar); Go. ar-jan=M.E. erien=ear (to plough), oar. Sowing, R. sa-, cast, scatter, ​S. si-tâ (furrow), L. sero (seso), Go. saian. Wain, R. wah—, carry, S. váhana, ὄχος, L. vehiculum, Sl. vozw, C. fen, A.S. waegn and waen. Axle, R. ag drive, S. áksha, ἂξων, L. axis, C. echel, A.S. eax, O.H.G. Ahs-ala (shoulder), Sc. oxter (arm-pit). Yoke, R. yug-, join, S. yugá, ζυγόν, L. jugum, Lit. junga, W. iaw, A.S. geoc, ioc.

Farm-words show a simple, rustic, but by no means nomadic, life. The Vaidic agra reminds us of the old Scotch loanin or field kept in grass near the farm-town. The roads are simply footpaths leading to the out-fields or the village mark. The North-Western dialects agree in restricting the root ar- to plowing, but the common name for plough seems to have been lost, for the modern word has been developed within the Teutonic unity—Frisian and Sc. pleuch, Swedish plog, Russ. pluge. It is the same as plug, a block of wood. The familiar Teut. hoe, Sc. howk is in Sans. koka, a name for the wolf.

9. Food.

Corn=R. ju-, sustainer, S. yáva (barley), yávasa (fodder), ζειαἱ, Lit. yavas, C. eórna. Meal=(a) R. mar-ground, rubbed, S. malana (rubbing), μὑλη, S. mola, Sl. melja, C. melim, Go. malan (to grind); (b) R. kar—crumbled, S. kurna (flour), γῡρις, L. granum, Sl. zruno, C. gran, Go. kwairnus a quern, E. cor-n, ker-nel, churn (Sc. kirn). MEAD, S, madhu (sweet, honey), μἑθυ, L. mel, Sl. medus, A.S. medu, O.Ir. med (drunk). Water, R. wad-wet, S. udan, ὕδωρ, L. udus, C. dour, Russ. vod-kja=Ir. uis-ce (whisky), Go. wato. Salt, R. sar-flow, that which runs together, cf. serum, S. saras (lake), ἅλς, L. sal. Ir. salann, R. sole, Go, sal-t., Sc. Saline (place-name).

10. Occupations.

Build, S. dru (a tree), dâru (wood), δὁρυ (spear-shaft), Ir. daur, Sl. drevo, Go. triw-eins (adj.= treen), axle-tree. Cut, S. kartanî (scissors), κείρω, L. cul-ter, Go. hairus (sword). Plat, S. prik, πλἑκω, and L. plico, Go. flahta (plaited), Sc. flaik (hurdle), E. flax. Weave, S. va, ûrna-vâbhi (wool-spinner, spider), ὑφή (web), L. vieo, Sl. viti. Sew, R. nah=sna, bind, S. nah, Gr. and L, ne-re, Ir. snathad (needle), Ger. nähen, E. needle. Knead, ​R. dhigh, handle, form, S. dih, L. fingo, Go. daigs=dough. Dress, S. vas (clothe), ἐσθής=L. vestis, Go. vasti.

The food-grains seem to have been a late development, and are named on separate lines, the primitive staple being a kind of spelt playing such a part as we find in Homer and among the Jews and Arabs. Grinding was done by the simple old-world hand-mill, and the action involved in it is expressed by two distinct roots. Mead implies a knowledge of fermentation. From the existence of a common root for salt, it does not follow that the primitive Aryans had any acquaintance with the sea. Our word tree retains its original reference to the use of timber as the only building material. The use of osier-twigs in plaiting, of wool in spinning, and of clay as a plastic material, and the naming of them from common roots, prove an early common acquaintance with the primitive arts of basket-making, weaving, and pottery.

11. Seasons.

Spring.—Orig. same as the dawn=ushas (vasas=aurora), R. vas-, give light, S. vasanta, ἔαρ, L ver (veser), Sl. vesna, Ic. vair, A.S. Eastre (austara), the spring goddess, E. east (auost). Winter.—S. hima (cold, snow), hêmanta, χιών (snow), χειμών, L. hiems, Lit. zima, Norse gymbr (year-old sheep), Sc. gimmer. Snow, R. snigh—, wet.—S. sneha (moisture), Z. çnizh (to snow), νίφα, L. (s)niv(is), nivis, Go. snaiws. Month, Moon.—R. ma—, measurer, S. mâs, μήν (month), μήνη (moon), L. mensis, Lit. menu, Ir. mi. (mens), Go. mên-oths, A.S. mêna. Day, R. div—, shine, S. div, divâ (by day), L. dies, W. dyw, Si. dini. Yesterday, orig.=morning-beyond.—S. hyas, χθές, L hes-ternus, Go. gistra-dagis, yester-day. Night, R. nak—, fail, disappear, perish, S. nakti, νύξ, L. nox, Lit. naktis, Go. nahts. Year, S. yâtu (time), hora, A.S. gear, Ger. Jahr.

12. Civil Life.

King (a) as father.—S. ganaka, L. genitor, Ger. König, A.S. cyn-ing (son of the kin or clan); (b) as protector—S. viç-pati (master of the wic or village-community), Sl. vesz-pati (only of God and the king); (c) as ruler—R. rak=reach, rule, S. ​ragan, L. rex, Ir. riogh, ri, Go. reiks (ruler), Ger. Reich. Village-commune.—Sabhâ (community), Sl. sebru, Go. sibja and Ger. Sippe (affinity), Sc. sib, O.E. sibbe (peace, affinity), E. gos-sip. Kin=R. gan—begotten.—S. ganas, γένος, L. genus, Go. kuni (race, tribe), E. kind-red.

Season-words yield a further hint of a northern Continental home, with a more or less humid climate in which the welcome change from the long ungenial winter was as the burst of sunshine through the cold and mist of a gloomy night, and the dawn of gladsome spring was merged in a too short summer day. Time was measured by the moon, of little service otherwise in that wolf-haunted forest-land, and therefore playing but a small part in primitive mythology. Day is the reign of divine, life-giving light, as night is the waning of Nature's powers in a death-like gloom. The terms for civil life show that a more than rudimentary conception of social polity existed. The basis of union is kinship by blood, and the ruler is the father of related families, the guardian that defended the tribe on its threshold (the encircling mark), or even the one most distinguished by personal merit chosen to a still wider sway.

13. Mind.

Thinking.—R. ma-, measure, S. manas, μένος, L. mens, Sl. mineti, C. menme, Go. mun-s. Wit=seeing clearly, S. vid, οἶδα, L. videre, Sl. vedeti, Go, wit-an, Ger. wiss-en (to know). Knowing, R. make to know, teach, S. gânâmi (I know), γνῶσις, L. g-nosco, Sl. znati, Go. kannjan (make known), Sc. ken. Willing=choose, S. vri. (choose), vára (wish, excellent); L. volo, S. voliti, Go. wiljan—will, well. Awe, R. agh-, choke, S. amha (angha, constraint, pain), ἄχος, Ir. eaghal, Go. agis—awe, ugly, ug-some.

14. Myth.

Sun=light-giver, S. sûra, svar (sky), σείριος=Sirius, L. ser-enus=σελήνη (svarânâ), C. sail, Lit. saul, Go. sauil. Staro=strewn or light-strewers,—Ved. star-as, ἀστήρ, L. stella (ster-ula), C. steren, Go, stairno, star. Wind and Weather,—R. vâ—, blow, vâta, L. ventus, Lit. vetra, Go. waian, A.S. weder,—weather: R. an—, breathe, S. anila, ἄνεμος, animus, Sc. end (breath). ​Thunder (a)=sound, groan, S. stanita, L. tonitru, A.S. thunnr, Icel. Thor (god of thunder), Thurs-day; (b)=strike, S. Vadhá-tra (thunder-bolt), T. Wuodan (Woden), Odin, Wednes-day. Darkness=what dims, mist, S. Ragas, ragani (night), Gr. Erebus, Orpheus, Go. rikwis, Sc. reek (smoke). Fire (a) S. agni, L. ignis, Sl. ogni; (b) firestick, S. pramantha, Prometheus. Bug-bear, S. Bhaga, Phrygian, Zeus Bagaios, Ir. puca (sprite Puck), Sc. bogle (scare-crow). Heaven=(a) bright sky, S. dyaus, Dyaus-pitar=Dies-piter=Jupiter, Diana, Janus, S. deva (a god), Lit. devas, C. di, Norse Edda, Tivar (gods), Tyr (god of war), Tuesday=Tiwes-daeg; (b)=all-embracing and all-seeing, S. Varuna (sky) Uranus; (c)=living, being.—R. as, to be, V. Asura, Z. Ahura-mazda, cf. Jehovah = I am, that I am.

The terms under these beads enable us to plant Aryan civilisation deeper, showing as they do a more profound grasp of what is in the best sense culture. They prove the truth of the maxim—"Nil in intellectu nisi prius in sensu." Whatever may be the psychologist's verdict on the scholastic question of primum cognitum and primum appellatum, these primitive concepts tell us that the Aryans reached the abstract through the concrete, and moved in a world of quick sensations. They had even grasped the Kantian distinction of subjective and objective, differentiating the wissen from the kennen, the savoir from the connaître. The higher consciousness is choice, and the most solemn and impressive symbol for physical pain and religious dread is found in the sensation of choking. The last head reveals to us the boundless region of comparative mythology. Here we read the unconscious literature of the Aryans, the sacred books of the race. It has the same physical basis as the terms for mental operations. The cardinal fact of the Aryan's simple existence was the ever-ending, ever-beginning struggle of the bright sun, eternal type of his own lot. Against his hero are arranged the powers of nature, the demons of the cloud and the darkness. His love is the dawn-nymph. In the first blush of their love she coyly eludes him; fair but faithless and fleeting. In the beat of the day she will haunt him, till once again in the glory of his manbood she meets his embraces, and they sink together into the mystic Avillon with his twilight smile irradiating her azure brow. Thus did the simple Aryan endow ​ the phases of natural life with a personality like his own; on this all-absorbing theme he lavished his nascent powers of literary expression in the significant epithet; and all this with such truth and vitality that, from Homer down to the latest modern novel, the primitive solar myth—the varying fortunes of hero and heroine, the cruel machinations that separate them, and their final re-union-dominates the whole realm of literary make-believe.

Professor Max Müller sums up the results of the foregoing inquiry in these words:—"Looking then at the whole evidence which the languages of the various Aryan nations still supply, we perceive that before their separation their life was that of agricultural nomads, and probably most like the life of the ancient Germans, as described by Tacitus. They knew the arts of plonghing, of making roads, of building ships and carts, of weaving and sewing, and of erecting strongholds and houses, more or less substantial. They could count, and they had divided the year into months. They had tamed the most important domestic animals; they were acquainted with the most useful metals, and were armed with hatchets and swords, whether for peaceful or for warlike purposes. They followed their leaders and kings, obeyed their laws and customs; and were impressed with the idea of a Divine being, which they invoked by various names."

It is impossible to say when or in what way the causes which have produced the existing distribution of the Aryan tongues began to take effect. It is due to a highly-elaborated flexional system, and a very early appearance of literary forms, among many other considerations, that philologists like Max Müller were led to place the common centre of emanation nearer to the Asiatic than to the European unity. There is no doubt, moreover, that these tongues range themselves in groups that travel on divergent lines. We are on historical ground, too, in saying that the original rupture between North-west and Southeast was rendered permanent by internal causes due to the growth of an elaborate social and sacerdotal system peculiar to the Asiatic section, and boy such external agencies as the inroads of the Tartar hordes from Central Asia, and the spread of Semitic influences from the South-West. Bearing ​in mind that the oldest names for the outstanding features of the country in Europe are of Celtic origin, and that the Celts are, both in point of locality and civil progress, an outlying, isolated, and diminishing stock, we may safely infer that they were the first to move westwards. All the traditions of the Græco-Latin stock point to an Eastern origin, and that a very remote one. On the other hand, not till the fourth century do the Teutons emerge from obscurity and take a place in literature. They are then on the lower Danube, but driven into the Empire by ruder barbarians on the North. The translation of the New Testament by the Bishop of the Goths, Wulfila (about 360 a.d.), constitutes, philologically speaking, the Veda of the Teutons. The language of the Goths retains very many of the characteristics of the primitive Aryans, and throws besides invaluable light on the whole subsequent dialectic growth of the Teutonic tongues. The Slavs, having for centuries to maintain a hard contest between their Teutonic brethren on the west of the Sarmatian plain and the Mongol savages of the east, have arisen but slowly out of their primitive barbarism. Their language, however, preserves some singularly interesting archaisms.

As the great schism that has permanently separated the Asiatic from the European groups brings us nearest to the proto-Aryan period, whatever throws light upon the significance of that event serves still further to illustrate the stage of culture which the combined stock had reached. We have seen on what points of material, mental, and moral culture they all agree. It will be important to notice in what respects they differ. Roots will be found to divide in a mysterious way, so that the North-western group, for example, prefers to express the action of milking as stroking, softening (marg-), the South-eastern as drawing (duh-). Similarly the root ar- goes to Europe as ploughing, and remains in Asia as rowing, the Hindoos betaking themselves to another common radical (karsh—to draw) to express the former action; while the Sans. kshuma is supplanted in the West by linen, flax. Of more special growths we have the Vaidic soma as a sacred beverage remaining strictly in the East, while vinum spreads all over the West. It was probably due to climatic conditions that the Hindoos added to the primi​ primitive set of phonetic symbols such new peculiar forms as characterise the Sans. alphabet. But the most striking proofs of an imperfectly-developed common civilisation remain to be noted. For example, whereas the ear for phonetic variations was so developed as to produce a rich flexional system, and perpetuate minute shades of accentuation, the colour sense, as might be expected, was a late growth. The Sans. for colour is varna, lit. what covers, and is the same as vellus and our wool. It was also chosen to express caste, a most significant specialisation of its force. But this vagueness in colour-naming is best shown in the case of the metals. Gold is S. hir-anya, hár-ita, Z. zaranya, zairita, Sl. zlūtu, zelenu, Go. gulth and our gold, Gr. chrusos. These all agree in naming the metal from its colour, the yellow. From the same stem, however, come S. hari, green, and Lat. gilvus, flavus, and our yellow; from S. harit, red, Lat. fulvus. The neutral tint of silver is more easily decided; it is S. ragata, the white, or ragata hiranyam, white gold, just as in Scotland zinc was called white iron. The Lat. arg-entum has the radical sense, but it is lost in the Teut. dialects. The third metal shows the greatest variations of colour-naming, so much so that it may have been applied to copper, bronze, or iron. It is in Sans. ayas, Lat. aes, Go. aiz. In Wulfila the apostles are to take no aiz (money) in their girdles. Gr., Lat., and Teut. have developed their words for iron on quite independent lines. When we deal with the names of commodities that are the products of an advanced civilisation, we are in the region of loan-words, interesting as evidence of a very early commerce, and this necessarily complicates the question as to the higher culture of the proto-Aryans. Some of these loan-words are extremely old—sugar- candy, for example, came from India in the remotest times, crystallised on sticks of cane or bamboo. Sugar is the S. çarkara = gravel, Pers. shakar, Lat. saccharum, and Gr. with slight change, M.E. sugre. Candy is S. kandha, a stick, and Pers. quandat, quandi (sugared). The word lives in Lowland Sc. as gundy.

The only point that now remains to be discussed is the home of the Aryas. We were long satisfied with locating it somewhere in Western Asia, probably in the region stretching south from the Caspian and along the valley of the Oxus, on the one ​side reaching up the slopes of the Paropamisan and Hindoo-Koosh, and on the other to the Armenian Highlands. This position gives us, mindful of the saying, ex oriente lux, a reasonable centre of development, and accords well with such historical facts as bear on the point. In respect of natural products and climatic conditions it lends itself to the deductions already drawn from the lists of most widely diffused terms. European centre has long been claimed for the Aryan dispersion, somewhere in South Russia, the Danube, the shores of the Baltic, and so on. This theory would make the proto-Aryans spring from the rude builders of the lake-dwellings and the kitchen-middens. It points to the absence of any common word for lion, tiger, elephant, camel, ape, as inimical to any Asiatic source. It says that the only common trees named, birch and beech, are natives of middle Europe not of Asia. Max Müller discusses the whole question, and replies to this argument on its own lines. There is no doubt that the prehistoric condition of middle Europe was unfavourable to the early growth of civilisation. In point of fact, when there at all, it came late and from the south. Dense forests covered a marshy land. The inhabitants must have been confined to the neighbourhood of lakes or of the sea, where alone were the means of easy subsistence. If, then, the dispersion was from such a centre, there ought to be a common word for fish, yet the Sans. matsya, and the Teut. and Celt. fish are from different radicals; common names for shells and shell-fish are entirely absent. The eel is not found in the Black or Caspian Sea, and the name, though from a common root, is of Western and later growth. The sea itself ought to, and does, have a common name, but this proves little. In Sans. maru is a desert, literally that which is dead, and Lat. mare and our mere and extensive Teut., Slav., and Celt. forms point to a Western development. Why, on this hypothesis, should the European Aryans forget in the East so prominent a natural environment as this? The name for ship, too, is common. It is Sans. nau, Gr. and Lat. naus, A.S. naea, and Ger. Nachen, a skill, from a root seen in nare, to swim or float. It primarily applies to a boat on a river or lake, and has not spread far in the Teutonic dialects. In bird life the crane is not in Sans. but in ​Zend, because the bird does not spread further east than Armenia, while the quail appears both in Sans. and Gr. as the returning one. The crane would be new to those who went west, familiar if they went east. Of plants the general term tree as timber is alone common to all. The naming of individual trees is uncertain. There is no definite common term. Bhurja (Eng. birch, Sc. birk) appears in Sans. as the name of a bark used as writing-material. The beech, used as a food, in confined to the North-west. The word is the name of the oak in Greek. The Lat. quercus, again, is the Teut. fora-ha, and our fir. But the whole argument from the plant and animal life forgets that there are a flora and fauna of altitude as well as latitude, and it was never implied that the proto-Aryans lived anywhere but on the uplands of western Asia where European trees and familiar animals thrive. So that it is not necessary to admit, as Professor Max Müller does, that the names for lion, tiger, cat, might have been forgotten by those western tribes that left the haunts of these creatures. This would be intelligible, for what ceases to be generally used ceases to be named. Thus in the prelatic days in Scotland the lectern was familiar. As Presbyterianism took hold of the people of the reading-desk, known for a while as the letterin, was applied to the precentor's desk, and in time was forgotten as Episcopacy became unpopular. The ape and tiger are strictly tropical. The lion is more widely diffused, and the word is said to be an Indo-European one, signifying the raving or roaring one. The camel presents a real difficulty, for Bactria, the home of a well-know variety, is admittedly near the centre of ancient Arya. Elephant is a loan-word with a curious history that shows Aryan origin. The animal was unknown in the West till brought to Southern Italy by Pyrrhus, though ivory had been spread by trade. The word elephant appears in the Gothic translation of the New Testament. Wulfila, at a loss to translate the camel-hair coat of the Baptist, uses ulubandus, his Gothic equivalent for elephant. It was the only name for a large eastern quadruped, known to him, that would suit. The word is apparently Semitic, eleph, an ox, but contains a Sans. stem, ibha, with the Heb. article prefixed. The Sans. ibha, strong, powerful is a common name applied to the animal, and its ​appearance in the west points to a familiarity with the creature after the Hindoos reached Southern India and to an early traffic by the Arabian Sea in ivory.

The interest of this whole question for the student of the Scots vernacular lies in the evidence it affords of a primitive unity within that circle of the West Aryans, known as the Low-Germans or Teutons of the flat shores bordering on the lower Rhine, the Baltic and the North Seas, to which not only our northern speech but also our characteristic cultural development belongs. It is beside this point to follow the question into those wider issues which go to the root of the whole science of Comparative Philology. Suffice it to indicate in brief the conclusions arrived at by so eminent an anthority as Professor A. H. Sayce in his "Principles of Comparative Philology." He there shows how the philological point of view has changed in recent years. Notably has Sanskrit been dethroned from the commanding position on which its far-reaching discovery had placed it. The study of anthropology and folk-lore, of Assyrian and Egyptian records, and of living tongues now growing under primitive conditions in the dark places of the earth have all profoundly affected accepted theories.

On the question of the original home and unity of the Aryans Professor Sayce adopts Latham's view and assigns a centre of distribution inclining more to Europe than to Asia. He holds that the European vocalic system is older than the Indic, and that the East Aryans are the latest and most distant. A permanent cleavage between East and West Aryans seems to have been effected by an inrush of Northern Turanians, to whom are due the cuneiform inscriptions of the Babylonian tablets. On these no Aryan elements appear earlier than the seventh century B.C. When or how, again, the West Aryans distributed themselves over the Central Plain of Europe and roamed westwards to the Danube, the Rhine, and the Baltic it is impossible to say. That the wandering instinct was strong within these pioneers of Western civilisation is writ large in history. We find Wulfila's converts flourishing under conditions of comparative enlightment in the Danube valley as early as the fourth century, determined Teutons pouring out of the forests of Central Germany gave imperial Rome for centuries ​her hardest frontier question, while their kith and kin were soon to sweep the North Sea as Angles, Frisians, and Norsemen.

On every page of the foregoing Studies there will be found evidence of the continuity and persistency, within the Lowland Scots vernacular, of those features that are most distinctive of this Western Teutonism.

It may help the student to have, as footnotes to this article, a conspectus of Professor Sayce's views on the origines of the Aryans. As a distinguished Egyptologist and Assyriologist, he has a wider grasp of the situation than the earlier Orientalists could have had:—

(1) To Greek, and not to Sanskrit, we have to look for light on Aryan speech.

(2) Sanskrit not now regarded as the parent Aryan speech.

(3) The primitive Aryan, a coarse, squalid savage, defending himself against the climate, clad in skins.

(4) Early Aryans' presence in Asia Minor given up: no Aryan names on cuneiform monuments between Kurdistan and the Halys.

(5) Whole strip from the Caspian to the Persian Gulf Turanian at the earliest date known: cuneiform tablets due to a Turanian inrush.

(6) Eastern Aryans of India and Iran, the latest and most distinct branch.

(7) Westward flow of Aryans not likely begun before the Turanian inrush.

(8) This flow not south by the Caspian but over the Tartar steppes on its northern shore: therefore little sea influence shown.

(9) European Aryan home a track, bleak and wintry; want of a common name for same object in East and West Aryan may be due to loss, as well as to ignorance, of the object itself.

(10) A primitive European Aryan language, hence the original branching—East and West—repeated in Europe into Kelt.-Ital., Hell., Teut., Slav.

(11) Not till the West Aryans settled on the shores of the Baltic, or, possibly, of the Black Sea, did they break up—shown by agreement in the word for sea, and in the beech, which grows only to the west of line, Koenigsberg-Crimea.

  1. ↑ In the revision of this section I have been favoured with the valuable aid of my esteemed friend, Mons. F. J. Amours, B.A., well known as a distinguished scholar both in Scots and French.
  2. ↑ The "Ledger" is examined minutely in my "By-ways of History" under the title, "Scottish Trade in the Olden Time."
  3. ↑ Bell's "Ledger" is examined at length in "By-ways of History," p. 163.
  4. ↑ Italic g in Sanskrit indicates the soft or palatalised sound, as in "George."
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3400856Studies in Lowland Scots — General Index1909James Colville
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INDEX

An attempt has been made in this Index to provide in it not merely a reference to proper names, but to the subject-matter of the volume. With this purpose in view, the details have been grouped under more or less comprehensive heads. Many of these have intentionally received but slight treatment in the text, having been introduced merely as casual steps in the argument, or as incidental illustrations. Thus, under such names as Rome, Constantinople, and the like, the reader is not to look here for information on their historical importance.

Aryan, 17, 19, 226, 243-62 (passim).

Aryas. See Table of Contents.

Authors quoted or alluded to:—(a) English—Addison, Joseph, 76, 113; Aytoun, Professor, 85; Bacon, Francis, "Essays," 141; Beaumont and Fletcher, 127; Boswell, James, 119; Burke, Edmund, 36; Caedmon, 2; Chaucer, 20, 22, 39, 61, 76, 84, 153, 203, 226, 241; Defoe, 94; Dickens, 39, 192; Eliot, George, 164; Fletcher, John, 127; Gibbon, 4; Goldsmith, 117; Gray, 89; Hobbes, 95; Henley, 78; Hole, Dean, 64; Hume, David, 77-8; Jeffrey, Francis, 94; Johnson, Samuel, 27, 42, 117, 119; Jonson, Ben, 40, Kipling, Rudyard, 95; Langland, "Piers Plowman," 61, 71; Macaulay, 109; Milton, 2, 96, 131, 144-5; Pope, 60; Raleigh, "Soul's Errand," 84; Sackville's "Mirror," 156; Shakspere, 6, 30, 32, 35, 38, 41, 51, 60, 69, 72, 73, 77, 81, 87, 88-90, 107, 123, 130, 139, 149, 152, 173-4, 179, 181, 202, 209-10, 234, 240; Smollett, "Humphrey Clinker," 78, 81; Stevenson, "Underwoods," 76, 98-9, 203; Spenser, 61, 65, 84, 96; Swift, 94; Tennyson, 60; Thonson, James, 77; Wordsworth, 59, 60, 167.
(b) Scots—quoted or referred to as using Lowland Scots:-Alexander, Dr. W., "Johnnie Gibb," 16, 23, 42, 60, 147, 155; Barbour, "Brus," 19, 20, 30, 31, 39, 42, 61-3, 96, 234; Baillie, "Letters," 77; Barrie, J. M., 59, 63, 75, 97, 117, 118, 134; Blair's Autob. 237; Blind Harry, 61; Beattie, James, 75, 78, 94, his "Amha," 154, and "Scoticisms," 76, 94; Bell's "Ledger," 231-3; Burns, 31, 39, 41-2, 59, 60-6, 68-70, 76-8, 85, 90, 96, 98-9, 102, 104, 106-8, 112-3, 117-8, 137-9, 150, 154, 163, 172-3, 177, 181, 183, 198, 201-2, 223, 230, Scoto-Fr. in Burns, 241-3; Carlyle, 28, 60, 62, 78, 113, 117, 132; Chalmers, 75, 85; Cockburn, Henry, 59, 94, 100, 110; "Complaint of Scotland," 199; Crockett, S. R., 97, 98; Dunbar, 61, 96; Douglas, Gavin, 61, 76, 87, 96; "Duguid, Dr." 150; Fergusson, 61, 69, 98, 101, 106, 112, 127; Ferrier, Miss, 60; Fountainhall (Lord), 228-237; Galt, 60; Halyburton's "Ledger," 229-230; Hamilton, Mrs., 60; Henryson, 61, 136, 218; Law, the 254 ​Diarist, 105; Lindsay, Sir David, 61, 96, 179; Kames, Lord, 84; Montgomery, "Cherry and Slae," 237; Holland's "Buke of the Howlet," 123; Hope, Sir Thomas, 229, 235; "Kilwuddie," 201; Lockhart, 181; Maclauren, Ian, 117; Macdonald, George, 99; Nicholson's "Brownie," 29; Ramsay, Allan, 33, 63, 106, 112, 127, 211; Scott, 27, 41, 42, 60, 70, 96, 98-9, 117, 132, 177, 189, 223; Waverleys, 10, 181, 182, 193, 205, 226, 232, 241; Sibbald, Sir Robert, 198; Skinner, John, 62, 106; Skinner, Bishop, 178; Thomas the Rhymer, 20; "Urquhart, Robert," 85, 89; Wynton, Chronicler, 61.
Ballads—As I went on a Monday, 22, 31; Brownie of Blednoch, 29; Battle of Harlaw, 90; Book of Ballets (Tho. Morley), 155; Carrick for a Man, 107; Cheild Roland, 18; Cumberland Ballads, 193; Herd's Ballads, 132; Hairst Rig, The, 64, 128-129; Johnnie Armstrong, 206; Muckin' o' Geordie's Byre, 132; Peebles to the Play, 61; Sir Patrick Spens, 33.
Bible References—2, 3, 11, 13, 14, 15, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 36, 37, 38, 64, 65, 85, 87, 147, 181, 184, 206, 207, 249, 261.
Children's Games, 106, 127, 129, 131, 135, 165, 185-7, 196.
Church, The, 73-5, 119, 121-134; Calvinism and Calvinistic, 192, 193; Catholic and Catholicism, 227; Covenanters and covenanting, 193; Cistercians — Pluscarden was not a Cistercian foundation, as stated in the text. Alexander IL granted the settlement, in a Charter of 1236, to the White Monks of Vallis Caulium (valley of cabbages) in the Netherlands, founding about the same time Elgin Cathedral. The Abbey, as we see it, was mainly the work of the Benedictines from Dunfermline, who acquired it in the fifteenth century. After the Reformation it fell to Alexander Seton, builder of Fyvie and all-powerful chancellor under James VI., 143; Culross, 64; Kinloss Abbey, 143; Pluscarden, 143; Presbyterian, 144; St. Giles (Elgin), 144; St. Serf, 64.

Cottar, The—Cissy Wood's Story, 160-4.

Cottar's (The) Saturday Night in Cape Dutch, 217.

Dialect—Effect of Printing on, 109, 141; Of the Schoolboy, 109; Vulgarity in use of, 117.
Dialects—General, 97; Classification of, 99-100; Study of, 103, 104-105, no, 139, 141; in Fair Isle, 112; Germany, 108-112; Switzerland, 100.
Dialects illustrated (English)—Anglican, 82, 83, 101, 165, 166; Cumberland (general), 68, 146, 149, 151-153, 167-180, 182; Geography and Ethnology of, 165; Scots Connection, 165, 167, 681; Archaic Element in, 173; Idiom and Grammar, 168, 170-171; Dorset, 42 (Barnes); Kent, 132, 146; Somerset, 38; Wilts, 101; York, 146, 101; South and North, 45, 168.
Dialects illustrated (Scots)— Aberdeen, 28, 45, 65, 66, 75, 78 Aberdonian, ​78, 99, 100, 104, 106, 110, 123, 130, 133; Aberdeenshire, 147, 153, 155, 157, 172, 178, 194; Angus, 98, 99, 133, 139, 163, 184; Angus and Mearns (phonetics), 161-162; Ayr, 42, 66, 221; Ayrshire, 99, 102, 103, 107, 112, 113, 148, 150, 166, 200, 201, 212; Banff, 42, 133, 146, 150, 151, 153, 160; Buchan, 23, 64, 99, 101, 105, 147, 148, 151, 153, 154, 166, 198, 217; Borders (The), 30, 65, 76, 98, 99, 125, 127, 154, 160, 170, 180-182, 184, 187; Campbeltown, 102, 182; "Flory Loynachan," text and glossary, 113, 116; Caithness, 62, 65, 99, 181; Edinburgh, 18, 86,98, 102, 105, 111, 119, 127-8, 130, 132, 135, 146, 179, 180, 181, 205, 211, 229, 230, 237; Dumfriesshire, 100, 103, 142, 150, 151; Dumbartonshire, 181, 192; Fife, 31, 42, 64, 65, 66, 71, 75, 85, 99, 102, 104, 109, 111, 113, 118, 120, 121, 124, 130, 133, 134, 135, 139, 140, 142, 147, 148, 149, 152, 153, 155, 156, 169, 170, 172, 177, 179, 181, 184, 188, 210, 211; Northern, 9, 13, 45, 63, 77, 83, 90, 91, 97, 102, 146, 168, 169, 173, 182, 197; Village Life in, 117-139; Vocables of, 139-141; Forfar, 70, 104, 111, 128, 139; Galloway, 65, 98, 99, 102, 104, 111, 125, 139, 165; Cattle Trade, 166, 167; Words and Idioms, 172; Glasgow, 36, 81, 88, 102, 111, 134, 135, 150, 169, 171, 173, 174, 182, 186, 188, 232, 233, 236, 238-9; Lanarkshire, 42, 66, 72, 83, 99, 125, 127, 139, 150, 170, 178, 182, 203, 209, 210; Lothians, 42, 65, 98, 99, 111, 170, 188; Kincardine, 98, 161, 182; Wood Narrative, 160-164; Moray—Farm Life in, 141-160; Ross Narrative, 142-160; Phonetics and Vocables, 152-154; Dialect, 64, 66, 99, 125, 133, 136, 181; Nithsdale, 142, 147, 170; Shaw's Glossary, 149-177; Ulster, 103, 123, 124, 132, 148; Orkney and Shetland, 10, 18, 42, 62, 63, 69, 70, 71, 85, 88, 100, 101, 103, 123, 124, 125, 131, 132, 133, 134, 146, 149, 152-154, 166, 170, 181, 198, 206, 210; Orcadian Sketches, 18; Edmonston's Glossary, 42, 100; Norse, 65, 110, 132, 165, 166, 182, 195; Perthshire, 129, 133.
Farm Life in Morayshire, 141-160. See for details, Contents III. 2.
Folk Lore, 129, 130, 135, 136, 154-155, 183, 185, 186, 187; Auld Nick, 185; Candlemas, 151; Charm(a), 160; Clyack Feast, 154; Clooty, 152; Guisers, 104, 129; Hades, 28; Hallowe'en, 129, 154; Hansel Monday, 75; Hogmanay, 104; Maiden, The, 154; Mummers, 104; Pechs, 220; St. Katharine's "Well, 211; St. Swithin's Day, 153; St. Michael's Day, 201; Wee Bunnock, 150; Weather Lore, 189.
Folk Names for (a) Animals:—Ask, esk, the newt; calls, to a cow, 148, duck, 149, pigeon, 149, lapwing, 156, bat, 128, turkey-cook, 130; clip-sheer, earwig, 149; oushie, wood-pigeon, 124; dunter, eider-duck, 124; gellie, leech or tadpole, 120; foggie-toddler, yellow bee, 149; garie-bee, 149; golak, beetle, 149; gleg, gnat, 122; keelie, sparrow-hawk, 122; lerrick, lairrick, lark, 126; paitrick, partridge, 124; rannie, wren, 129; Sandy Cam'l, pig, 133; St. Anthony's pig, 133; staig, colt, 147; stokannet, sheldrake, 172, 180; spyug, sparrow, 125; teuchat, lapwing, 125; wallop, lapwing, 156; whaup, greater curlew, 119; whittret, weasel, 124; yellow yite, or yorlin, yellow hammer, 156. For (b) Plants:—Apple-reenie, 119, 121; bachelor's buttons, 121; bane-wort, 177; benner gowan, 177; bun-weed, 148; boon or boor-tree, 123-4, 159; corn fever-few, 117; curly-doddy, ribwort, 123; dishielogie, tussilago, 156; gairner's gairtens, 121; gool, 148; grundie-swallie, groundsel, 123; little goodje, sun spurge, 123; lilly-oak, lilac, 121; liquorice, common rest-harrow, 123; lucy awrnits, earth nuts, ​123; soorocks, sorrel, 123; speengie rose, peony, 121; stinkin Elshender (Alexander), stinkin Willie, stinkweed, and weebie—all names for ragwort, 148.

Folk Songs, 130, 135-136, 146.

Grimm's Law and Diagram, 7-9.

Historical Allusions:—(1)—Events, 2, 61, 71, 76, 77, 89, 90, 120, 157, 166, 193, 228, 231, 235, 236, 237. (2) Personages—"Robin" Bruce, 107; Knox, 77, 157, 183; Melvill, Andrew, 77; Dundas, Henry, 120; Harley, Earl of Oxford, 94; Huguenots, 199, 228; Hardwioke, Chancellor, 89; Turner, Sir James, 229; Sweno, Norse hero, 143; Pyrrhus, 261; Rob Roy, 78; Darius, 245; Cope, Sir John, 89; Graham of Claverhouse, 228; Hackston of Rathillet, 237; Archbishop Sharp, 237; Cromwell, 27, 77, 78, 231, 232, 240; Lord Stair, 89; Lord Lorn (1st Marquis of Argyle), 77; Lethington (Secretary to Queen Mary), 183; Lollards, 166; William of Orange, 228; Alexander II., 143; James V., 119, 230; James VI., 77, 127, 179; Jacobites, 77, 88, 120, 178; Napier, Sir Charles, 244; The Union, 181.
Languages illustrated:—Anglo-Saxon—1, 2, 9, 11, 13, 16, 19, 24, 39, 41, 43, 44, 45, 65, 123, 128, 171, 177. Danish—70, 108, 112, 149 (Denmark). Dutch (Holland)—13, 19, 25, 32, 43, 72, 171, 179, 188, 191, 192, 196, 201, 202, 203, 204, 205, 206 (in Scots), 209, 210, 220, 228. Dutch (Cape-Taal)—13, 179, 185, 188, 191, 192, 193, 194, 196, 197, 198, 199, 200, 201, 202, 203, 204, 206, 207, 208, 209, 210, 211, 213, 215, 216, 217, 218, 220, 222, 224; Taal (affinity with German), 195, 215; affinity with Gothic, 206; phonetics of, 194, 195, 223; phonetics of Braid Scots, 190, 195, 196, 197, 198, 202, 203, 215; Burns in "Taal," 192, 198-9, 210, 212-17, 220-25; Reitz's translation, 212-13, 216, 220. English (general)—76-71, 66, 204; historical, 24, 29, 30, 34, 39, 84, 127, 165, 166, 202, 232; grammar, 34, 35, 36, 39, 76, 78; phonetics, 7, 11, 12, 13, 14, 79, 80-3, 86; provincial dialect of, 97; Scots in, 97; Inglis tongue, 76. French—11, 37, 71, 83, 104, 170, 199, 204, 229; in Scots, 184, 227-43. German—High, 7-9, 12, 124, 153, 168; Low, 7-9, 31, 195; Heliand, 25; general, 177, 182, 191, 198, 202, 205, 209, 215, 216, 222, 231. Iranic—244, 263; Zend-Avesta, 244; Ahura-Mazda, 245, 256; Indo-European, 7, 9, 22, 261. Keltic—general, 7, 39, 41, 63, 67, 77, 124, 178, 192, 200-1, 222, 226, 244, 258; Gaelic, 39, 40, 42, 63-4, 66, 67, 68, 77, 83, 103, 110, 124, 163, 191, 200-1, 204, 222, 247; Erse or Irish, 39, 77, 81, 124, 150, 232, 245; Welsh, 248. Latin—general, 7, 8, 9, 10, 12, 247; in Gothic, 15; grammars in Scots, 233-7; grammar, 15, 35, 37, 40, 90; Greek—general, 193, 244; grammar, 8, 10, 35, 40, 90; in Gothic, 11, 15, 19, 26, 27, 32, 36. Norse—32, 65, 182, 195; Frisian, 7, 9, 13, 43, 160, 188, 191, 205; Icel., 179, 181, 184, 200; Norse-Kelt., 25; Norse-Goth., 32; Norse in Scot., 166; Scand. (Norse), 5, 7, 10, 14, 39, 42, 63, 66, 110, 132, 171, 177, 179, 180, 188, 201, 204, 213; Runes, 6, 9, 10, 11, 21; Phœnician, 9, 21. Sanskrit—7, 14, 39, 40, 90, 244, 245, 246, 258, 262; grammar, 40. Semitic—14, 257, 261. Slavonic—7, 18, 19, 244. Teutonic,—11, 21, 28, 35, 37, 41,43, 64, 90, 194, 205, 226, 244, 248, 258, 261. Vaidic—18, 34, 243, 257, 258.
​Note to Norse above.—The bulk of the volume goes to illustrate, directly and indirectly, the ancient and enduring influence on the Makers of Lowland Scotland of their Norse kinsmen from over the North Sea. In this connection Chalmers in his "Caledonia" says—"The Flemings who colonised Scotland in the 12th century settled chiefly on the east coast, in such numbers as to be found useful, and they behaved so quietly as to be allowed the practice of their own usages by the name of Fleming-Lauche (cf. Eng. Dane-lagh), in the nature of a special custom." So it happened that the "Laws of the Four Burghs" forms one of the oldest and most illuminating documents on the history of the Scots vernacular. This couplet, in popular fashion, gives emphasis to the point:—

"Boeytter, Brea (d), in (an') griene Tzis,
Iz goed Ingelsch in' eack goed Friesch."

It was late before the name Scottis tongue was given to Lowland speech in contrast to Erse or Gaelic. In point of fact, the Lowland tongue is mainly the archaic form of the ancient Northumbrian, and therefore ought to be invaluable to the student of historical English.

Minor sources—Abbotsford Series (ed. G. Eyre Todd), 106; Atkinson, Mr., 103; Alliterative Poems (ed. F. J. Amours, B.A.) (Sc. Text Soc.), 124, 227; Angellier, Mons., 108; Baillie, Robert ("Letters"), 77; Ballantyne, John, 206; Beowulf, 17; Birrell, Augustine, 95; Bopp, 17; Breal ("Essai de Semantique"), 91; Burness, William, 219; Burt, Edward, 111, 113; "By-ways of History," Colville's, 229-233; Calderwood, Mrs., 89, 92, 109; Campbell, Sir Colin of Glenorchy, 77; Carmichael, 235; Chambers' Dom. Annals, 102; Traditions, 105; Popular Rhymes, 150; Christison, Sir Robert, 79; Cunningham of Craigends (S. H. S.), 127; Cramond, Dr., 155; Carrie (biographer of Burns), 78, 117; "Diversions of Purley," Home Tooke, 38; Dick-Lauder (Moray Floods), 189; Dunlop, Matthew, 116; Elphinstone, of King's, Aberdeen, 229; Erskine, 79-80, 86; "Farewell to Edinburgh," 98; Flory Loynachan, 113-6; Foulis, Ravelston, Diary, 185; Furnivall, Dr., 40; Gibson (Cumb.), 101, 105, 173; "Good Words" (Dr. MacCullooh), 235; Gregor, Dr., 101, 105, 129, 133, 142, 166, 211; Grimm's Law, 7-8, 17, 41, 245; Grosart, Dr. ("Poems of Alexander Wilson"), 105; Haldane, Dr., 73; Hamilton, Mrs., 60; Heliand (Die), 25; Henderson, T. F. (Scott. Vernacular Literature), 96; Hermand, Lord, 86; Holland's "Buke of the Howlat," 123; Horace, 33; Innes, Cosmo, 229; Junius, Francis, 2; Kantian Philosophy, 256; Latham, 262; Law, Dr. T. G. (Nisbet's Scots Test.), 44; Laws of Four Burghs, 39, 61, 87; Lowther's Journall (1629), 222; Masson, Professor, 2; Morley, Henry ("Shorter English Poems"), 61, 71, 136; Müller, Max, 243, 246, 260-261; Mure, Elizabeth, of "Caldwell Papers" (1712), 240; Nansen, 179; Napier of the Mint (1590), 179; Nisbet, Murdoch, 43, 44; Miss du Toit, 214; Olive Schreiner, 192; Penelope in Scotland, 98; Penn, 94; Privy Council Regs., 63, 202, 231-232; Punch, 79; Purvey's Revision of Wyclif, 43; Records—Burgh, Kirk-Session, and Guilds, 63, 236; Robertson, Joseph, antiquary, 64; Robertson, historian, 78; Robertson of Ochtertyre, 88; Ross, John, Narrative, 157-160; Ruddiman, Thomas, 235; Sackville, Induction to the Mirror for Magistrates, 156; Sanders, Robert, printer, Glasgow, 235; Schippert, 108; Skene, historian, 64; Simson, Alexander, grammarian, 235; Skeat, Prof., passim; Skinner, John, 62; Stanley, 81; Smith, Adam, 78; Statistical Account of Scot., 101, 102; Stevenson the Engineer, ​133; Ten Brink, 108; Thomson, Thomas, antiquary, 100; Tudor's Orkney and Shetland, 132; Varro, 247; Wallace, Dr. William, 65; Wallace, Professor, 177; Wallace, Covenanter, 193; Wiggin, Kate Douglas, 98; Willcock's Argyll, 77; Wilson, Alexander, 105; Wood, Cissy, 161, 163; Wyclif's Bible, 1, 43; Young, Arthur, 132; Young, Sir Peter, 237.
Moeso-Gothic, historical names connected with—Adrianople, 6; Ægean, 5; Alario, 6; Andalusia, 5; Asia Minor, 2; Atanlf, 6; Arian heresy, 3; Athanaric, 6; Attila, 6; Auxentius, 3; Balkans, 5, 6; Bulgaria, 3, 6; Cappadocia, 5; Carpathians, 5; Chalons (battle), 6; Claudius (Emp.), 5; Constantinople, 3; Dacia, 5; Danube, 5; Decius (Emp.), 5; East Goths (Ostrogoths), 5; Ermanaric, 5; Eusebius of Nicomedia, 3; Erithigern, 6; Huns (Tartars), 5, 6; Moesia, 3, 43, 44; Odoacer, 6; Theodoric the Great, 2, 6; Theodosius (Emp.), 6; Trehizond, 5; Ulphila=Wulfila, 1, 2, 6, 205; Valens, 6; Vandals, 5; Wallachia, 5; West Goths (Visigoths), 5.
Moeso-Gothic, fragments of—Arezzo scrap, 6; Bucharest ring, 6; Book of Kings, 3; Codex Argenteus, 2, 6; Facsimile as frontispiece; Epistles, 40; Epistle du Rumonim, 6; Ephesians, 29; Milan fragment, 6; Viennese MS., 10.
Moeso-Gothic Gospels, names associated with—Camb. Univ., 2; Dort, 2 Dusseldorf, 1; Francis Junius, 2; Landgraf of Hesse, 1; Arnold Mercator, 1; Prague, 1, 2; Ruhr, 1; Stockholm, 2; Upsal, 2 Werden, 1; Wulfila (Bishop), 2, 3, 4, 6, 9, 10, 11, 14, 15, 16, 19, 21, 24, 26, 35, 40, 41, 42, 64, 65, 87, 133, 147, 157, 181, 184, 205, 206, 207, 213, 258, 259; his translation, 2, 11, 13, 14, 15, 16, 18, 19, 21, 22, 24, 25, 27, 28, 29, 30-3, 38, 49, 53, 65, 82, 133, 147, 206, 247, 258, 259, 260. For further details, see Contents I.
Nationalities referred to—France, 108, 227-41; Germany, 136, 138, 153, 167, 186, 188; Goths, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 9, 15, 28, 43, 205, 258; Guth = God, 28; Gut-thiuda, 6, 7, 22; Gutos, 6; Gothones, 6; Holland, Hollander, 2, 25, 66, 72, 103, 110, 138, 188, 190-1, 193, 196, 198, 204, 209, 211, 228, 232-3; Hindu, 113, 244, 258, 250, 260 Non-Aryan—Basques, 243; Eskimo, 249; Lapps and Finns, 243; Magyars, 243; Mongols, 258; Osmanli, 243; Scotsman, 191, 192, 206, 207; Scot, The, 77, 110, 206, 207, 209; Scots, imitative, 81-5, 94, 110; Scottish, bi-lingual, 71, 77, 79; Scottish, in Ulster, 103, 123-4, 148; Scottis, braid, 192; Scottis, braid, = Doric, 14, 85, 92, 99, 210; Scotland, 156, 165, 166, 167, 199, 200, 201, 203, 204, 205, 211, 212, 250 ; Transvaal, 132, 160, 190, 205, 208, 209, 224, 259.
Persons and Places of Linguistic Interest—Ahura-mazda, 245; Auld Howf, Dundee, 224; Buchanan, 81, 111; Bullers o' Buchan, 149; Bushman's Hoek, 204; Cupar-Ang-gus, 81; Cowgate, 81, 111; Dakshin Aranya, 245; Deccan, 245; Erin, 245; Esk, 143-149; Eyemouth, 180; Farintosh, 16; Fridge, Frier, 22; Frome, 81; Gaikwar, 250; Gate Slack, 198; Gart, Garth, Gort, 25, 51, 65; Golgotha, 17; Great Orme's Head, 14, 20; Horatius Codes, 17; Hydaspes, 250; Jupiter, 256; India, 120; Indus, 244; Kaisar, Caesar, Czar, 11, 15, 18; Kelso, 111; Kirkcaddy, 81; Krames, 205; Kruger, 63, 198; Luckenbooths, 211; Lichfield, 40; MacDougal, Madowall, Madool, 165; Malloch, ​Mallet, 83; Murdoch, Murdok, 83; Mackenzie, Menzies, 84; Milngavie, 19; Mount, Mounth, 61; Nero, 248; Norder-ey, 166; O'Dell, 10; Ormuzd, 245; Paardeberg, 201; Rheingau, 19, 22; Rome, 6, 81; Rouinania, 6; Saline, 253; Sand-Biichse, 231; Scinde, 244; Selkirk, 111; Sodor, 166; Start Point, 224; Suderey, 166; Thursday, 256; Tinto, 18, 203; Tins, Tuesday, 10, 21, 27, 28; Veldt, 200, 204, 216, 217, 225; Wednesday, Wodin, 256.
Popular Verse—Adam and Eve, 130; "Arnha'" (Beattie), 154; Biggin' o't The, 161; Broken Bowl, The, 174; Carrick for a Man, 107; Cherries on the Rise, 127; Fife Toast, A, 134; Ford's Morning Walk, 223; Nievvi-nievvi-nik-nak, 128; Nursery Rhymes, 128, 183, 185; Nursery Rhymes (Border), 187; Rhymes, 167; Rhymes (Cumb.), 173; Scots wha hae, 112; The Priest o' the Pairish, 146; The Weaver, 120; Wee Bunnock, The, 150; Wee Wifickie (Alexander Watson), 106; Weather Rhymes, 189; When Auld Robin Bruce, 107.
Proverbs—Lowland Scots, 66-71; Lowland Scots and Cumberland, 167, 168, 177, 217.
Social Customs—Birley man, 64, 177; Boer Op-sij, 205, 218; Bull Ring, 189; Candlemas Feast, Cummers' Feast, 181, 205, 240; Duke's Canaries, 180; Callow's Hill, 67; Hebridean tanning, 101; Jeddert Justice, 67; Kraam-bezuk, 205; Mercat Cross, 72; "Macfarlane's Bowet," Michaelmas Moon, 167, 240; Nicks (Cu.), 213, 223; Pasch (Easter), 15, 157, 160, 220, 227, 229; Riding the Marches, 201; Ross Narrative, 157-160; Sheelin' Law, 181; Skiddaw Grays, 180; Soordook Sogers, 132, 180; Summer Sheelins, 199; The Broose, 201; Tumlin' Wheels, Tummlincar, 181; Wochen-Bett, 209; Whip-the-Cat, 188.
Vernacular, The Scots—(1) General—42-5, 62, 64, 79, 96, 97, 109, 192; imitative, 81-5, 94, 110; bi-lingual, 71, 77, 79; in Ulster, 148; New Test. in Scots, 43-4; Scots and English, 76-95; Scots law terms, 72-3; Scoticisms, 35-6, 39, 40, 76, 78, 84-94, 122; "Kailyard," The, 60, 98, 117, 140, 171; "Scottis tongue," 87; "braid Scottis," 192. (2) Vocables of—86-95, 113; terms for quantity, 86, 138; expletives, 86; epithets, 86-87, 92; archaisms, 87, 89, 90, 93; social interest, 92-3; Scots vocables familiar in English, 97-8; spurious Scots, 97, 117, 118; Scots malapropisms, 84. (3) Grammar of— 63, 71, 76, 85, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 94, 171, 219. (4) Phonetics and idioms of—12, 36-39, 41, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 110, 113, 118, 171-2, 174; Scholarship (Scots), 41.

Village Life in Fifeshire, 109, 157. For details, see Contents III.

​

Places Referred to Casually

  • Anster (Anstruther), 152
  • Arbroath, 128, 242
  • Ardchattan, 143
  • Armenia, 252, 260
  • Auchinleck, 27


  • Bactria, 261
  • Badenoch, 143
  • Beatily, 143
  • Black Sea, 260, 263
  • Black Water, 143
  • Buckhaven, 75
  • Byzantium, 3


  • Calcutta Asiat. Soc, 244
  • Campbeltown, 113, 116
  • Campvere, 228, 229
  • Canterbury, 16, 248
  • Caspian, 260, 263
  • Ceylon, 22
  • Craighall (Ceres), 234
  • Crail, 234
  • Cupar, 70, 103, 186


  • Donau (Danube), 9, 260, 262
  • Dunbar, 235
  • Dundee, 104, 111, 119, 131, 224, 233
  • Drakensberg, 203, 204


  • Elgin, 143, 144, 145, 155, 183 (tune)


  • Fair Isle; 112
  • Falkland Palace, 119, 120
  • Findhorn, 145
  • Forres, 143


  • Garioch, 90, 112
  • German (North), 249
  • Germany, 249
  • Glamis, 119, 120


  • Hamburg, 26
  • Hawick, 139
  • Hebrides, 63
  • Hindoo Koosh, 260
  • Hull, 228
  • Humber, 103, 165


  • Inverness, 78, 110, 145
  • Iran, 244
  • Irvine, 201
  • Islay, 65


  • Keldon Hill, 143, 145: Heldon in text
  • Kilmalcolm, 81
  • Kintyre, 113, 169
  • Kirriemuir, 134
  • Kyle, 166


  • Leyden, 192
  • Limpit Mill, 163
  • Lithgow Peel, 62
  • Locher Moss, 100
  • Lomond Loch, 99
  • Lossie, 143
  • Lucklaw Hill, 121


  • Mark Brandenburg, 231
  • Milngavie, 19
  • Muchalls, 163


  • Newark, 64
  • Newbattle, 143


  • Ochtertyre, 88
  • Osnaburgs, 120
  • Oxus, 258


  • Paisley, 98, 105, 127, 170, 173
  • Paropamisan, 260
  • Pathhead, 66
  • Petlethy, 119


  • Ronaldshay, North, 132
  • Rotterdam, 190, 192
  • Roumania, 6


  • Sark, 166, 167
  • Sarmatian Plain, 244, 258 ​
  • Scots Craig, 119
  • Selkirk, 111
  • Sobraon, 121
  • St. Andrews, 111, 119, 152, 176
    • Sharp, Archb., 119, 237
    • Archdeacon of (1502), 230
    • Andrew Duncan, regent in St. Leonard's (1595), 233
    • Kirk-Session Records, 240
  • Start Point, 224
  • Stonehaven, 142, 160, 163
  • Strath Clyde, 165
  • Switzerland, 100


  • Tournay, 330
  • Tours, 241
  • Trebizond, 5
  • Turnberry, 107
  • Tyne at Haddington, great flood (1775), 189
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3396999Studies in Lowland Scots — Glossary1909James Colville
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VII.—GLOSSARY

SCOTS SECTION

To confine within reasonable compass the huge mass of vocables and phrases introduced into the text, a selection has been made. As the whole aim of the volume is to interest the reader in the Scots Vernacular, this element has been made the dominatn feature of the list. Thus Scots head-words are given in italic. Words, also, of which the origin is not indicated are to be taken as Scots. Italicised words are to be considered cognates with each other or with the word under which they are place. Only such words as are held to be cognate with Lowland Scots have their linguistic origin noted thus—E.=English, G.=Gothic, Du.=Dutch, C. Du.=Cape Dutch, Da=Danish, Fr.=Frisian, Ic.=Icelandic, N.=Norse. To these add local varieties of Scots, such as Orc.=Orcadian, Cu.=Cumberland, No.=Northumberland, North=Northern, Ab.=Aberdeen, Mo.=Moray, Kinc.=Kincardine. Relationship with these emphasises the essentially Teutonic character of the Scots Vernacular. Outside this circle are noted Celtic (Ga.=Gaelic) and French (F.), illustrative of external influences of historical interest. Scarcely any references have been made to general Ind.-Ger. affinities in Sanskrit, Greek, Latin, and Semitic. Obvious contractions are or.=origin, obsc.=obscure, prob.=probably, conn.=connected, cog.=cognate, perh.=perhaps.

Dictionaries Consulted—

New English or Oxford Dict.—as yet published, ending with "Ribaldously," excepting O and P—referred to as N.E.D.—Editors, Sir James Murray, LL.D., and William Craigie, LL.D.
Skeat's Philological—Sk.
Skeat's Moeso-Gothic Glossary—Sk.
Jamieson's Scottish—Jam.
Klüge's German Etymological—Kl.
Edmonton's Orcadian Glossary—Ed. or Shet.
Gregor's Buchan Dialect—Bu.
Prevost's Cumberland Glossary—Cu.
MacBain's Celtic—MacB.
Jakobsen's Shetland Dialects.

Annotation, more or less complete, have been made on many of the words. These take the place of what might have been footnotes throughout the text. Wherever, too, the explanations, or conjectures in tracing to their sources words occurring in the text, have failed to find support from authorities quoted, such discrepancies have been clearly marked by a † on the left, so that the reader can at once check all doubtful statements. Such annotations are entirely supplementary to the discussion of the word in the text.

With regard to the dictionaries referred to above, the permanent value of Professor Wright's monumental work, the English Dialect Dictionary, must be gratefully acknowledged, but for the special purpose of my subject it could be of no great service. It could have furnished many ​variants, but such investigation lay quite outside my plan. More to the purpose was Jamieson's Dictionary, but its well-known faults of matter and arrangement seriously hamper the student. A thorough and well-informed report on "Jamieson," the outcome of long-continued annotation, was contributed several years ago to the "Glasgow Herald" by the late Mr. J. B. Fleming. These notes form one of the most valuable contributions to the study of the Scots Vernacular. I have made use of them wherever they had a bearing on the contents of the "Glossary," where they are initialled J. B. F. I have also incorporated passages illustrating "Jamieson," culled from time to time by Mrs. David Murray of Cardross, an ardent enthusiast in such old-world lore.

This is not a "glossary" in the usual acceptation of the term, since it mainly gives references to the explanations in the text and not merely meanings. Its additional illustrations and fresh gleanings, it is hoped, will give it a value in itself.

A[1]

  • A, 79, 80, 81, 111, open name sound, as for ea (Ir.) in great; shut sound, Sc. Ital.; light, as final; broad in Loth.
  • †Aacht, 12, possession. Eng. aught, Go. aiht-s, from agan to owe; not connected with Go. waiht-s.—N.E.D.
  • Aba, 22, Go. adv. suff.
  • Abba, 18, Go. father; Greek
  • Abr-aba, 22, Go. ably, from abrs, strong; able is of Fr. or.
  • Ace, aiss, 135, ashes, Go. azgo, 25, N. aske; hence the Sc.; cf. buss for bush
  • Acorn, 19
  • Action words, 194
  • Adduced, 72, Sc. law term
  • Adna, 20, for Sans. anna, food, rice; lit. what is eaten.
  • Advocate, 72, Sc. law term
  • Aetes, 19, A.S. aetes tilian, to get food; aet, food; Go. at-isk. See aits
  • Af-haims, 25, Go. from home, Sc. hame, haim-s, a village (Go.)
  • Af-hwapjan, 48, Go. to choke; var. of hwopjan, to boast, whoop
  • Af-wairpands, 33, Go.; Ger. werfen, Eng. warp, AS. wearp, Go. wairp-an, to throw; cf. moodie-wurt, the mole
  • Agis, 30, 51, 255, Go. awe, ugly, ugsome, which see
  • Ahmins, 26, Go. spirit, ἄημα
  • Ahwos, 19, Go. floods of rain, Lat. aqua, from Go. ahwa, water
  • Aihwus, 21, 250, Go. horse, Lat. equus, in aihwa-tundja, 21, the burning bush; lit. the sharp, swift one; Lat. acer, sharp; Gael ech, N. ehwa
  • Ain, 32, Go. ain, Eng. one, a, an
  • Air, 28, Go., or Se. ere, early
  • Airth, 11, Go. airtha, earth, Du. aarde, Sc. yird
  • Ais, 26, Go. brass, coin, Lat. aes; a borr. word.
  • Aithei, 18, Go. mother
  • Aits, oats, 20, 23, Go. at-isk for σπόριμον, a field of corn, root eat. See aetes
  • Aix, aex, 26, Go. akwizi, axe. In a North. gloss. on Lu. iii. 9; Go. akwizi is A.S. aex
  • Aiza-smitha, 26, 259, Go. copper-smith; lit. iron-smith
  • Akran, 19, 20, 48, 252, Go. fruit, der. from akrs=field, acre; cf. AS. “aecyres lilian,” flowers of the field; also acorn, fruit in general, not from oak, but from AS. aecer, a field, for akern or acern
  • Aleph, 10, 21, eleph, Heb. ox, hence alphabet. See elephant, ulbandus
  • Alids, 56, Go. fatted (calf), aljan, to nourish, Lat. alere
  • Alleys, 187, Cu. ​
  • Alongst, 89, 90, for alongest, an emphatic form treated as a superlative, obsolete in Eng.
  • Alphabet, 21
  • Amsa, 17, Go. the shoulder, prob. misreading for ahsa, ox-ter, O.H.G. ahs-ala, 253
  • An-an, 31, 255, Go. to breathe, only in us-anan, to expire. See aynd, eend, anst
  • Anda-wleizn-s, 18, Go. countenance, O.E. and-wlita, O.N. and-lit, M.E. anleth—Northern. N.E.D. quotes from Beowulf and Rushworth Gospels. See wleiz
  • Anent, 94, Sc. legal term, with final t in Eng. as early as 1200, but long obsolete; O.Sax. an eban, Ger. neben for en-eben
  • Anes errand, 137, going as a special message, anes=once, poss. used as adv.; Cu. anes-eerant, 167
  • Annatto, 233, native Amer. name, var. anatta, annatto. [Misplaced at p. 233, not Sc. Fr.]
  • Anst, 31, Go. grace, favour, from an-an, to breathe; Ger. Gunst is for ge-unst, O.H.G. anst. See anan, usanan, eend
  • Antarin, 48, Go. anthar, Ger. ander, ither
  • Apple-reengie (g hard), 119, Artemisia abrotonum, Linn., lit. the plant which saves from death. Introd. from France in Qu. Mary's time. Abrotonum in O. F. abroigne, avroigne, ivrogne (dial.), which last is the Aberd. iveringie. The modern pp is a harking back to the ab of abrotonum, immortal
  • Arbi, 26, 247–8, Go. heritage, Ger. erfe, A.S. yrfe, an heir, Gael. earb, trust, akin to ὀρφανός, Lat. orbus, Eng. orphan, Sc. orpiet; with a Go. der. arbja. Grimm connects Go. arbaiths, toil, Ger. Arbeit, O.H.G. arapeit. See erp, orpiet, arpiet
  • Argie-bargie, 92, argle-bargle, argue, wrangle
  • Argues, 92, proves
  • Ar-jan, 23, 245, 252, Go. erien, M.E., E. to ear
  • Ark, 24, a chest
  • Arka, 24, Go. meal-ark in Sc., borr. from Lat. arca, arceo, to guard
  • Arms, 29, Go. poor, Ger. arm
  • Arpiet, erpit, stunted, starved, akin to Go. arbi, arbja, A.S. yrfe, Du. erf, Lat. orbus and orphan. See also arbi
  • Article (def.), 39, 171; art. as t'
  • As, 90, after comparatives, a worn-down form of all-so; cf. Ger. als, in Scots sense
  • As, 89, relative
  • Asans, 23, Go. harvest; asneis, a hired servant
  • Asilu-quairnus, 24, Go. ass-quern, asilu-s, A.S. esol, Du. ezel, Ger. Esel—borr. from Lat. asinus, with l for n; quairnus, a hand-mill, Ic. kvern, from root of corn. See quern
  • †Ask, 149, 252, wet or water newt; apparently a worn-down form of O. E. áthexe, Ger. Eidechse; N.E.D. Not connected with the river name, Esk, water (Gael.)
  • At, 89, prep.
  • At for rel. that, 39, 63, 69, 87, 168, 170
  • 'At hoo, 40, 168, how that
  • Atta, 2, 18, 246, Go. father, attâ, aithei.
  • Att-ila, 2, little father, Go.; Gael. oide, foster and god-father
  • 'At weel, 168,=Ger. ja wohl
  • Auga-dauro, 25, Go. window; lit. eye-door
  • Augo, 17, Go. eye, Lat. oculus
  • Auhns, 24, Go. oven, Sc. oon, as Arthur's Oon, near Falkirk, now destroyed; auhn-s preserves the Teut. base; uhna, A.S. ofnet, a little pot, shows the radical sense
  • Auhsus, 21, Go. ox, lit. the carrier. The long vowel (o-ax) in Sc. preserves the orig. guttural
  • Aurti-gards, 26, Go. vineyard, exact equivalent of orchard, for ort-yard, wort being plant in general
  • Aurtja, 23, 26, Go. a husbandman, Eng. worts, orts, roots
  • Auso, 12, 17, Go. ear, Lat. auris
  • Averse, 89, to or from
  • Awe, 51, Go. agan, to caiise to fear, agis, awe, ugsome
  • Awi-str (fold), 21, 250, awe-thi, Go. cog. Eng. ewe ​
  • Awn, 20, Eng. ear of corn, Go. ah-s, ah-ana, chaff—"the little sharp thing," Lat. acus, a needle
  • Awsome, 98
  • Azjin, 211, C. Du.; cf. eysell (Hamlet)

B

  • Baas, 207, C. Du., Amer.–Eng. boss. N. E. D. says, supposed cog. with Ger. Base, female cousin, baas, master, both arising out of dialect child-words for father (badar) in various familiar senses
  • Baasht plooms, 110, bruised, perh. N., but possibly onomatop.
  • Bab, 114, to close, Ayr.
  • Bachelor's buttons, 121
  • Back o' beyont, 168
  • Bad, 56, Go. pret, bidjan, to pray; cf. to bid one's beads or prayers, from Go. bida, a prayer or bead
  • Baikie, in coo-baikie, 131, 147, piece of wood fastening cows in stall
  • †Bain, 156, 230, bainne (Gael.), milk, MacB. Ir. banne, a drop, Sl. banja, a bath, Eng. bath. N. E. D. says bath not conn. with bain, but is Ger. bähen, cog. fovere, orig. idea=heat; no Gael. conn.
  • Bairn, bairnie, bairnlie, 2, 19, 24, 32, 56, 66, 69, barn-ilo, Go. from bear, "We're aw Joahn Tamson's bairns," O. E. beam, Go. "Thata barn, Jesu"
  • Bairseag, 151 (Gael.), a scold, N. berj-a, to strike, cog. birr, birrle
  • Baitr-aba, 22, 30, 87, Go. bitterly
  • Balm, 121, balsam (flower)
  • Bands, 75, necktie of a beneficed or "placed" clergyman.—Not in Jam.
  • Bandster, 177, Fi.
  • Banewort, 177
  • Bannock, 150, 183, Gael, bannach; bunnock, 107, Lat. panicium, panis, bread
  • Banst-s, 24, Go. a barn, O.E. *bos, O. N. bás-s, E. boosy, M. E. bosig, a cow-stall, O. T. *banso-z, Ger. Banse
  • Baps and beer, 129, 177, baps, a thick cake, generally with yeast in it
  • Barefit broth, 156, made with a little butter or dripping, but without meat
  • Bare-gorp, 181 (Cu.), a nestling bird. See gorbet
  • Barley-break, 155
  • Barley me that, 173, Cu., syn. of chaps me
  • Barrin-oot, 186
  • †Bauch, 12, 86, 129, dulled, as ice after thaw, synon. wauch; perhaps O. N. bagr, awkward, N. Eng. baff. "not Go. bauths, deaf."—N. E. D.; weak, pithless, bauths. Go. deaf; ch sometimes interchanges with th; Go. bauths not under bauch in N. E. D., but cf. sense in Go. banth wairthan, 12, to become worthless
  • Bauchles, 208
  • Bauckie, 18, 154, bawki-bird, bak, baukie—

"The laverock and the lark, the bawkie an' the bat,
The heather bleet, the mire snipe:
Hoo mony birds is that?"J. B. F.

  • Baudrons, 68, 135, pussy—

"Here baudrons sits and cocks her head"

"Old Ball."

Gael. beadrach, a playful girl; beadradh, a fondling

  • Bauks, 131, 140, 151, dividing ridges between fields, left in grass; com. Teut. O. N. bjalki, a beam; also a weigh-beam—

"Give your neebor the cast o' the bauk."

Hugh Miller.

  • Bauld, balths, 14, Go. bold, Ger. bald, quickly
  • Bawsent, 223
  • Be, bi, 52, 62, Ger. bei, E. by
  • Bead, beadsman, 56, Go. bidjan, to pray
  • Beaked, 122, basked; bekand, 62, may be only a form of bask, which again is a variant of bath.—N. E. D. Beck, to bathe, Roxb.—Jam. Beek, beik—

"While the sun was beakin' warm and bonnie,
Owre the haughs and holms o' the Garnock."

Duguid. (J. B. F.)

  • Beal, 139 (suppurate), var. of boil, Ic. bola, a blain, Du. buil, Ger. Beule, Go. uf-bauljan, to puff up ​
  • Beam, 20, 26, 197, boom, Du. boom, A. S. beam. Go. bagm-s, a tree
  • Bear, 38, to carry; Go. bairada, bairanda, bairan, passive; from bairan, to bear, or carry
  • Bear, bere, 20, 23, 200, 212, the coarse variety of bar-ley; Go. bari-zevas, made of barley
  • Beck, 204, E., from N. bekk-r, Du. beek, Ger. Bach=brook
  • Beds, 127, child's game
  • Beenin, 149 (Buch.) to beene, make the staves of a barrel swell by steeping. See Go. bulna, to swell.—Jam.
  • Beese, 167, Cu., Sc. beas', pi. of beast
  • Beeter, 183, Cu., beetin' stick, Cu.
  • Beets, 183, lit. makes bet-ter, mends the fire
  • Begoud, 36, 89, past of Eng. began, 92
  • Begowk, 128, 150, Sc. "For he meets wi' a great begeck frae empty binks." Jam. begeik, begink, begunk; prob. under influence of "gowk," the cuckoo; Ab. begeck, Bu. begyte
  • Beiks, bikes, 124, 157

"Thrang as bumbees frae their bikes,
The lauds an' lasses loup the dykes."

  • †Beist, 32, 132, comm. Teut., or. obsc. Du. and Ger. beist; Fris. bjüst—"beitan, bite," not conn.—N. E. D.
  • Bend-leather, 134, for soles of boots
  • Bennert, 177, Nithsd.
  • Berry, 25, 26, Go. basi, in weina-basi, the grape
  • Besom, 85, 137, a broom, O. Fris. besma; Ger. Besen. As an opprobrious epithet strictly Sc. "A. S. besma, Go. bisma; cf. Lat. ferula."—Kl.
  • Bethel, beadle, 14, 73; betheral, 118. Bedellus is the Latinised form. O. E. bydel; from Go. biudan, to offer
  • Bet-ter, 29, batiza, batists, Go. better, best
  • Beut-money, 26, 130, 186, buit, Go. bôta, advantage, good; Eng. to boot
  • Bew, 81 (Lan.) blue
  • Bewray, 30 (Bible), Go. wrohjan
  • Bid, 56, to order, combines two originally distinct verbs—(1) O. E. beodan, Go. biudan, to command; Sc. bode, an offer at an auction; Baidjan, 56, is for biudan. (2) O. E. biddan. Go. bidjan, pray, ask urgently, Sc. bedesman
  • Bide, 33, 90, Go. beidan; bide=stay; also endure, tolerate
  • Bien, 136, 174, Eng. dial. bain; O. N. beinn, straight, hospitable
  • Big ha'—Bible, 219
  • Bike, 124
  • Billy, 173 (Borders), companion

"Ye are a lad, ye are but bad,
An' a billie to his son a canna be."

"Bord. Minstr."

familiar form of Willy.—N. E. D.

  • Bine, 209, Lan.
  • Binnd, 36, Go. bindan, to bind
  • Birk, birch, 252
  • Birley-man, 64, from byrlaw, burlaw, the law of the baer (Ic.) or village community
  • Birse, 134, 151, bristle

"The elshin, the lingle, and the birse!"

"Souters o' Selkirk."

  • Birssy, 63, irascible, Gael. bairseag, a scold
  • Birsling sun, 122, scorching. Jam. birsle, brissle, to parch by fire. A. S. brastl, glowing, brastlian, to burn. "I trained on birsled peas and whisky."—"Tom Cringle's Log." (J. B. F.)
  • Bi-sunja, 33, Go. See san, sooth
  • Bit, 94, a bit bread
  • Bite, 32, Go. beitan, to bite
  • Bittock, 86 (dimin.)
  • Bi-waibjan, 26, Go. to weave. Root general over Ind.–Ger. tongues, evidence of high antiquity of the art
  • Black-a-vised, 61, dark visaged
  • Blad, 197, C. Du. leaf in general; cf. "Ilka blade o' gress"
  • Blate, 86, 137, bashful. Go. bleiths, 32

"An' leukit feel blate."

"Christmas Ba'ing."

"Ye're no blate," by litotes, insolent

  • Blawin, 134, boasting, from blowing (fig.)
  • Blowans haithjos, 23, Go. flowers of the field, blooms of the heath
  • Blinnd, 18, blind, blinds, Go. blind
  • Bocht, bauhta, 12, Go. pret. of bugjan, to buy ​
  • Bob of flowers, A, 174, Cu., of unknown or.; perhaps conn. with Gael. baban, babag, a tassel; pab, flax refuse; O. Ir. popp, a bunch
  • Bodach, 63, 177, Gael. a silly person, a carle, Sc. a buddie
  • Bodd'm, 167, Cu. and Sc.
  • Bogle, 18, 256, bugbear, goblin; in Sc. lit. since 1500: of uncertain origin.—N. E. D.
  • Boka, 39, Go. book, bokareis, scribes, bookers
  • Bole, 171, boal, small recessed cupboard in a wall. Or. unknown
  • Bolner, 149, Ic. to swell. See beal, bullerin
  • Bond, 72, Sc. law term, mortgage
  • Bone, 124 (Ger. Bein), Eng.
  • Boolie-backit, 88, Sc. hump-backed
  • Booly hole, 171, Cu. var. of bole
  • Boost, 102, buist, behoved, under necessity to; also bu'd, had to

"Twa ells o' plaiden bude be bocht."

  • Booth, 24, binds, Go. the table, booth, Ger. Bude—root, to build
  • Bour-tree, boon tree, 123, 124, the elder. "Uncert. der.—bore inconsistent with earliest and dialect forms; bower answers phonetically, but unlikely with regard to sense; bound-tree, from marking boundaries."—N. E. D. This last a mere guess
  • Boutent, bowden, 147, to swell; nothing like it in Jam. or N. E. D.
  • Bower, 200, a farmer, on steelbow system, bow, O. N. bú, farming, farm stock, Ger. Bau, Bauer, C. Du. Boer
  • Bowie, 156
  • Braffin, 187, a horse-collar
  • Brags, 128, Eng. brag, not in Jam.
  • Braxy, 207, a disease in sheep; prob. conn. with break; A. S. broc, disease
  • Brecham, 130, 187, E. dial. bargham; perh. O. E. beorgan, to protect with hame, q. v.

"A brecham and a cardin' clout."

"Jac. Ball."

  • Bredd, broad, 29, 32, Go. braid-s
  • Bree, brü, brye, 114, var. of brizz, bruise
  • Bree, 203, brow, " Bree-bree brenty," &c.
  • Breed shouder, 207, C. Du. broad shoulder
  • Breest, 17, Go. brusts, breast
  • Brether (as pl. for brother; long obsolete), 102; Shet. breder
  • Bricht, 12, Go. bairhts, bright
  • Bride, bruth-faths, 18, Go. lord of the bride. See faths
  • Bring, 10, Go. briggan
  • Brintlin, 145, Mo. a form of brunt, Eng. burnt; not in Jam.: bruntlin is a burnt moor (Buchan)
  • Britchen, 130, a piece of horse harness, poss. from breech
  • Brither, brothar, 18, Go. brother
  • Brizz, 97 (bruise), O. E. brysan, to crush
  • Broch, 25, a burgh, a pledge, bairgan, Go. guard, preserve; baurgs, a town; O. N. borg, a castle; Go. baurgs-waddjan, town-wall
  • †Brochen, 158, 160, Mo. porridge, Ir. brochan, cog. broth.—MacB. "Not cog. with broth."—N. E. D.
  • Brock, 29, 206, O. E. ge-broc, E. dial. brock, a fragment, Du. brok, Go. bruko—from "break;" fish offal, Shet.; to do work unskilfully—"A widna hae that tailyor; he brooks sae muckel claith."—Gregor
  • Brock, 105, a badger; brokkit, 163, speckled. N. E. D. sub brock, badger, Gael. broc, prob. cog. φορκος, grey, white, the "speckled"
  • Brokkit, 163, "a briekit sheep, dark, with white legs and belly."—Edm.
  • Brom, 221, C. Du. cog. with Sc. barm
  • Brook, 34, enjoy, endure, Go. brukjan, Ger. brauchen. Bruik, bruke, brook—bruk not in Jam. "Margaret Loif gevin license to marry Andro Flemyn, and bruk the twa merk land in Scheddylstoun."—"Glas. Rental Book." (J. B. F.)
  • Broom, 81, Eng. (brougham)
  • Broon kaidis, 138, bronchitis
  • Broose, race of, 201, mounted party at a country wedding; "of uncertain origin."—N. E. D.
  • Brucks, 206, Orc. fish offal. See brock ​
  • Bubbly jock, 130, the turkey, Sc. bubble, to blubber
  • Bu'd to be. See boost
  • Bugjan, 12, Go. to buy
  • Buicht, 65, Border, sheep-pen

"O, the ewe buchts are bonnie,
Baith e'enin' and morn."

  • Bull-baiting, 188, "Shak t' bull-ring," Cu.
  • Bull Ring, 189
  • Bullerin out, 149, 150, O. Fr. bullir, to boil.—N. E. D. M. E. bolne. Da. bolne, to swell. See bolner
  • Bultong, 207, C. Du.
  • Bun—bunach, boon, 124; Gael. bun tata, potato, from E. MacB. says it contains folk-etym. in bun, a root. A. S. bune, stalk, reed, prob. cog.; root bbu, to grow, φύω; Ger. Beule, a swelling
  • Bunker, 102, cog. with bunk, bank, bench; not in Jam.
  • Bun-wed, -wede -weed, 123, 148
  • Burg, broch, burgh, 25, Go. baurgs, bairgan
  • Burneywin, 173, burn-the-wind, the blacksmith
  • Burr on the Borders, 111, 171
  • †Bush, 207, box in centre of a wheel in which the axle works, Sw. hjul-bössa, wheel-bush; not conn. with boss.—N. E. D.
  • But and ben, 176, for be-out and be-in; cf. Du. Buiten-hof and Binnen-hof, at The Hague
  • "Butter and bread," 92
  • By, 90, Sc. after comps.
  • By ordinar thrang, 127
  • Byspel, 182, Cu.

C

  • C. Dutch, affinities with German, 195, 215, 216
  • Caber, 67, MacB.—cabar, a rafter.
  • Caddle, 102. Not in Jam. or N. E. D.
  • Cailleach, 154, Gael. old wife, nun, the "veiled one;" cog. Lat. pallium, a pall. Caillie, cowl, Lat. cucullus, Sc. cool
  • Caird, 153, 154, a gipsy, tinker, Gael. Sc., in borrowing, has debased the orig. sense of art, craft; var. kyaird
  • Cairl, carle, 163, O. N. karl. Go. kêrel, a man, churl
  • Cairneedy, 133, Bu. carneed, crine, to shrivel. Not in Jam. or N. E. D. MacB. has crannadh, withering, shrivelling, Ir. crannda, decrepit, from cran, tree, running to wood. Jam. has a var.—cranshach
  • Cairrit, 91, var. of carried, fig. used
  • Caker, 104, Forf.; not in Jam. or N. E. D.; prob. from cake
  • Callow spyugs, 176, unfledged sparrows
  • Calm souch, 216, sigh, with guttural sounded
  • Camanachd, 127, Ga., the "crooked thing," cam, bent; camag, a club, camas (Cambus), a bay
  • Candlemass cock fight, 151
  • Cannas, cannis, 70, 148, Bu.
  • Cannis-breid, 148, from canvas
  • Cantertup, 159, for cantrips, charm, trick

"Here Mausy lies, a witch that for sma' price,
Can cast her cantrips, an' gie me advice."

"Gentle Shepherd."

  • Cappie, 204, dim. of cup; Bu. "He's as fou's cap or stoup'll mak him."—Gregor
  • Carblin, 102, from carble, carb, O. N. karpa, to brag; cf. carp; Bu. wrangling, followed by wi', if a person, and, aboot, if a thing.
  • Carcidge, 102, carcase
  • Carl-doddy, 154, the plaintain; carl, in sense of "male" in plant names; dod, anything ball-like; carl-hemp, hemp, 163, male flower of; curl-doddy, naturally clever (Shet.). See also ourly-doddy
  • Carn, 133, to soil, Bu. Not in Jam. or N. E. D.
  • Carrick, 99, 127, 140, Fi. shinty or hockey stick, form of crook
  • "Carrick for a man," 107
  • Carsackie, cirsackie, 102, workman's coarse blouse; cirrseckie (Fi.)
  • Cast up, 92, 178, to rake up the past, to throw
  • Cattle beass, 35, 71, 167, cattle beast, cf. bees, Cu.
  • Cauf, 21, calf. Go. kalbo; chaff is similarly sounded in Sc. ​
  • Caum-staned, 169, pipe-clayed
  • Cayshin, cayshner, 72, 103 (caution, cautioner), Sc. law
  • Challenge, 87, 92, Sc. law
  • Champet, 88, 129, mashed, champ from an original chamb, identical with jam and jumble, imitative of action of chewing.—N. E. D.
  • Chapel of Ease, 144, quoad sacra, supplementary to parish church
  • Chaps me! chops me! 102, 127, 173, from chap, chaup, to fix upon by selection; "Belg. kippen, to choose;" cog. with cheap, chapman. "Jam. I. 409, but chap only, not the phrase." (J. B. F.)
  • Char, 78, for jar, by a Gaelic speaker
  • Charlock, 64, E. Sinapis arvensis, O. E. cerlic; or. unknown
  • Chattel, 71, E.
  • "Cheatery's choket you," 127, cheating=Nemesis
  • Cheef, 127, very friendly; chief, 136. Not in N. E. D.
  • Cheesies, 186, Fi. cheese biscuits
  • Chekis of the yett, 62, door-posts, cheeks (Barb.)
  • "Che vor' ye," 38, Lear.
  • Chield, 14, 68, generally bairn in Sc.; O. E. cild, Go. kilthei, womb, child, chiel, a variant
  • Chiels, 175, fellows
  • Childer, 102, children (O. Sc.)
  • Chin, 17, Ga., kinnus, chin-cough=kin-cough, Sc. kink-hoast
  • Chitterlings, 130, E. smaller intestines of pig, &c.; or. doubtful
  • Chows, 102, 135, 140, small coal (Fi.); not in N. E. D.
  • Chree, 83, Sc. dial. for three
  • Chuck, 174, Cn., Lan.
  • Chufty, 118, 173, Cu. chuffy, chaff, plump-cheeked, or. obs.; prob. a var. of chafts, the jaws and chew
  • Chun, 174, Cu.
  • Cip, 102, play truant, common Lan. and the West, also kip. Not in Jam. or N. E. D.
  • Clabby-dhu, 116, black clab or mussel. In the 17th cent. they were sought for, under this name, in the bed of the Clyde opposite Glasgow Green.
  • Clack, 102, 185
  • Clagum, 130, treacle-toffee, clag; Da. klag, sticky mud, clay, clog, Klecks, a blot (Sc. blob) of ink, is a compar. modern usage in Ger.; clocks, milk boiled till it acquires a dark colour and peculiar taste (Shet.)
  • Claise, 53, clothes
  • Claith, 53, cloth
  • Claty, 115, var. clarty, clorty, simpler forms clat, clot. "Gavell of house east side Saltmarket of catt (for clat) and clay."—"Gl. B. Recs.," 1692. A road-scraper is still called a clatt in Glasgow; klurt, a lump, also to daub (Shet.)
  • Clashing, 137, gossip, an echoic word
  • Cleckine, 32, 130, litter of rabbits or brood of birds, Fi., O. N. Klekja, Da. klackke, to hatch; cf. cletch, clutch, cleokin, "a brood of chickens, is given in Jam. but not clatchin, a common form." (J. B. P.)
  • Cled, cleddit, 53, clothed
  • Clerk, 4, 109, scholar
  • Clet, clett, 152, O. N. klett-r, a sea cliff. Da. klint, a flinty rock
  • Cliob, 147, Gael. cliobach, cliobag; cliobeag, a filly
  • Clip, 147, Mo., a hoyden, Ab. clippy, Fi. pert
  • Clippy, 128. See Clip.
  • Clip-shears, 122, 149; O. N. klipp-a, to cut with scissors; "prob. ident. with L. Ger. klippen, to make a sharp sound, to clap."—N. E. D.
  • Cloth, 94, idiom
  • Cloor, 139, 152, a blow or its mark. O. N. klor, a scratch; klo-a, claw.
  • Clooty, 152, clootie, the Devil as cloven-footed. Perh. from claw; Du. klauwtje, little claw, ankle bones, hoof
  • Clüte, 152, 219, or. sense, firm lump, clump, ball; Du. kloot, a ball; Ger. Klosz

"Six guid fat lambs I sald them ilka clute."

"Gentle Shepherd."

  • Clyaoh, 154, Gael. See caillach
  • Clypes, 128, Lan. tittle-tattle; or. doubtful. (?) A. S. clypian, to speak ​
  • Coal-rees, 121, Lan. coal depots, bings. "A sheep-ree or fold (Loth.); rae, wrae, cattle-yard; ree, reed (Fi.), do."—Jam.
  • Cöb, cop, cup, 175, 204
  • Cobble, 175, dim. of cob, small, water-worn stone
  • Cobbling, 175, Cu. poaching term
  • Cobble-hole, 175
  • Coddis, 58, husks, pillow. N. koddi, a pillow; Da. kodde, a bag, kudda. Orc.
  • Cod-out, 58, to shake out—said of over-ripe pods
  • Cod-ware, 58, pillow-slip; A. S. waer, pillow-cod
  • Coern, 80, 94, 171, corn; Cu. cworn
  • Coffin trams, 118, poles bearing the coffin
  • Colies, 146, Mo. prob. Ic. kollr, round-head, a hay-cock
  • Come o' wills, 189, Cu.
  • Complainers, 72, appellants, Sc. law
  • Compound tense, 37, Go.
  • Con, 184, obs. the squirrel
  • Condescends, 72, Sc. law
  • Conjugational or simple passive, 37
  • Contermashous, contumacious, 84, 136
  • Conventional address, 207
  • Convey, 72, Sc. legal term
  • Coo, 68, cow
  • Coo baikie, 140, 147, Fi. See baikie, 147
  • Cool, 81, a cap, var. of cowl, hat, cucullus. See caillach
  • Coo-lickt, 189, hair that would part in one line only. Jam. has only cow-lick, in above sense
  • Coom, 135, Fi. coal-dust; O. N. kain, film of grime; Shet. koom, anything much broken, coal, biscuits, &c.; var. goom, 114
  • Coom-ceiled, 128, Fi. arched or rounded top; said of a garret room; cog. Eng. coomb, a small valley.—N. E. D.
  • Coonts, 134, counts, sums
  • Coordie, 128, coward
  • Coorie hunker, 129, Lan. cower, and hunker, to squat down on haunches
  • Coosie, 128, Forf.
  • Cop, 204
  • Corks, 105, 112
  • Correlation of adjectival clauses, 39
  • Corruptions of the Taal, 216
  • Coterie words, 109
  • Cothie-juke, cothie-guckie, 151, Mo.
  • Cothie, coothie, 68, 86, 137, 151, couthie, only in Sc., akin to O. E. cúth, from cunnan, to know, familiar, affable. Go. kunds, known, Ger. kundig, couthie; cf. kythe, known, uncouth, unco

"Ilj couthie word."—"Wh. Binkie."

  • Gotten, 94, get on well together.—Swift
  • Cot-toon, 65, ploughmen's row of houses at a farm
  • Couatit, 58, coveted
  • Coup, 97
  • Cran, 207. See kraan
  • Craobh, 67, Gael. a tree, the "split-table" one
  • Crap-wa', 128. See coom-ceiled
  • Crave, 88, to dun, for a debt
  • Craw-flee, 127, Fi. a boy's game, crow-fly
  • Creesh, 63
  • Creuve, cruive, cruve, 67, 174, criv in Bu.; Northern only: a hovel, sty, salmon-trap; akin corf, a bfisket, Ger. Korb. "Ane schiep criff (pen) bigit on the Gallow Hill hot licence of the town," 1628.—"Banff Records."
  • Crine, 133, app. Gael. crion, little, withered, crined, shrunken.—N. E. D. MacB.—"Root kre appears to belong to root ker, to destroy, as in Go. hair-us, a sword;" cf. cairneedy, as verb to cause to grow stunted, "Y've crinet yir caar (calves) by spehnin thim our seen."—Gregor; creenie-crannie, the little finger (Ab.)
  • Cripple, 102, lame
  • Crock, 198, O. E. croc, N. krukka; Kl. connects with Ger. Krug, Du. kruik, Ic. krukka, A. S. crocca, M. E. crokke
  • Crom, 62, kink, Bu. Du. kram, a hook, crook
  • Crock, 198, crockery. Or. Celt. crog, crogan, a pitcher; in Eng. and Teut. generally
  • Crock-werk, 198, C. Du.=crockery; cf. Du. krug, a public-house ​
  • Crooning, 224, humming over a tune. Croon under croyn in Jam. a very unusual form; "to whine" certainly wrong; happiness and contentment implied rather. (J. B. F.)
  • Crooss, 70, 86; only in Sc., from Frisian. N. Eng. crous, Du. krys, curled, Fr. krûs, curly
  • Croude, 58, a fiddle; W. crwth, a violin
  • Croupie, 13, croaky. Imitative conn. with crow, croak
  • Cruden, crùban, 102, 116, crab or partan (Sc.). Ir. crubadh, to bend, crook, N. krjup-a, to creep, Sc. cruppen, bowed
  • Crummie, 131, the "cow with the crumpled horn"
  • Crummock, 107, staff with a crooked head. Gael. cromag, from crom, crooked
  • Croon o' the causey, 169, centre of roadway
  • Cry, 87, 92, to call, a call
  • Cry on, 92
  • Cuif, 136
  • Cum by chance, 189, Bord.
  • Cummins, 140, 175, Fi. Jam. "cumming, a vessel for holding wort." Cog. coomb, O. E. cumb, Ger. Kumme, a vessel
  • Cundeth, 172, Cu. var. of condie, which see
  • Curators, curátors, 80
  • Curly-andrew, 123, Fi.
  • Curly-doddy, 123, 163, doddy, polled, what has a rounded head, wild scabious, ribwort plantain. Children apply it to scabious or Devil's-bit—

"Curly doddy, do my biddin,
Soop my hooss and shool my midden."

"Chambers' Rhymes."

  • Curn, 86, 104, 138, var. of corn.

"An' mix the gusty ingans wi' a curn o' spice."—"Gentle Shepherd."

"I hae na a corn," Shet. A curney, a large number, as "a curney of piltacks" or coal-fish (Shet.)

  • Cushie, 124, cushat or stock-dove
  • Cuss-in, 13, cousin
  • Customer (tailor), 188
  • Cutchick, 129, Mo. prob. Gael. dim. cooch-ack, in dog-couch, a kennel, and syn. with chicken-cavie or hen-coop. Not in N. E. D.
  • Cüte, 152, Mo., queet, Ab. Cuit, the ankle, is "not given (Jam. I. 548), and no cross-reference to coot nor cute." (J. B. F.)
  • Cuttit, 88, cut
  • Cutty soam, 103, North. cutty, short; subst. a wanton. See soum, seme, sime, simmins.
  • Cworn, 23, 181–2, 253, Go.; later, kaurn, Cu.

D

  • D, intrusive in adjectives, 195; elided, 111, 178, 210
  • D in -d,-ed, 36
  • Dad, 139, 174, a rough blow, a lump of anything; dawd, daud, "not given, but dodd is (Jam. II. 72), to move by succassation!" (J. B .F.)
  • daddjan, 250, Go. to suck, cog. with Lat. filia
  • Daffin, frolic, not in E. D. D.
  • Daft, 69, imbecile. No. Go. stem dab, in ga-daban, to happen, gives daft and deft; or. sense, fit, apt, then inoffensive; cf. silly and Ger. selig.—N. E. D.
  • Dags, 23, Go. day
  • Daichie, 132, 172, 217, dough, duff, (dial.). Fris. deeg, Du. deg, Ger. Teig, Go. daig-s; or. sense, "what is kneaded;" Eng. doughy, pallid, deighle, a simpleton.—E. E. D. Not in N. E. D.
  • Daidle, daidlie, 128, No. pinafore; cog. dawdle; dud, Gael. dud, a rag, "or. unknown."—N. E. D.
  • Daiff, daubs, 18, Go. deaf, af-daubnan, to grow dull. The or. long vowel pres. in Sc.
  • Daing, haing, 115, 116, minced oaths
  • Dairgie, dirge, 74, 227, funeral feast. Lat. "Domine, dirige nos," in the office for the dead

"An' he helps to drink his ain draigie."

"Ballad."

  • Daizter, 169, Yks., worker by day, not by piece.—E. E. D. Not in N. E. D. ​
  • Dakshin-aranya, 245, Sans. Dakshin=Lat. dexter, right hand, and aranya, forest, jungle. The priests, worshipping the dawn in the East, had the Deccan on the right hand, hence its name, the southern forest
  • Dang, 153, No.; Ic. dengja, to hammer; "a hard blow: to knock, bang."—E. E. D. Var. dung, "Ne ver (true) man shall hae the door dung in's schafts that wud be in."—"Kirk Records," 17th c. See ding and on-ding
  • Dapper, 192; Du. dapper, Ger. tapfer, brave, sturdy; Dopper Boer
  • Daps, 114, var. of dabs, small flounders
  • Darg, 105, No. for day-wark, a job or fixed task.—E. E. D.
  • Darn, 101, Am., dash, Eng.
  • Daur, 25, 249, Go. door, pl. daurons
  • Dauthi-dedeina, 37, Go. dauth-s, dead; in Sc. a noun, e. g. to the deid. Dedeina is here the 3rd pl. affix of the past conjunctive of the weak verb dauthjan, to kill.
  • Daver, 102, stun, stupefy, stagger, for doaver, to be in a dose. O. N. dofna, Go. daubna, to become heavy, dover, to fall into a light slumber.—E. D. D. This is the usual Fife form. The daver of E. D. D. is unknown
  • Daw, 136, as lazy, idle; not in Jam. "A workin' mither maks a daw dochter."—Prov. (J. B. F.) See dilly-daw
  • †Dawtet, dawtie, 69, a darling, pet, petted; daut, to make much of. "Etym. unknown; conn. with dote excluded."—N. E. D.
  • Deaded (me) it, 37, nursery grammar
  • Deal, dealsman, 32, Go. ga-dailans. Ger. Teil, E. deal, dole
  • Deas, 155, Ab. dais or settle
  • Decreet, 72, Sc. law
  • Dee, 39, Ir. for the
  • Deef nits, 168, deaf nuts
  • Deeple, 147, Mo. var. of dimple, dunt and dent; cf. Ger. Dumpfel, a pool.—N. E. D. Eng. dibble, not in E. E. D.="settin plants on the Sabbath, a devill in his hand."—"Elgin Records," 1648
  • Deetin, 181, Cu., var. of Sc. dichtin
  • Definite article, 45
  • Deid, 37, dead, n. and v.: verb dee. O. E. déad, Du. dood, Ger. todt, O. N. dauthr, Go. dauths; afdauthjan, to put to death; "would be the deid of his wyfe."—"Elgin Records, 1699"
  • Deid sweer, 137, extremely lazy, absolutely unwilling; sweer, Ger. schwer, heavy
  • "Deil hait," 12, 138. Jam. hate, hait, haid, a whit, atom. Ic. haete, a particle. "The Deil haid ails you," replied James, "ye canna abide ony to be abune you."—M'Crie's "Knox." This quotation scarcely bears out the alternative explanation "Deil hae'd" (have it)
  • Delate, 72, Sc. law
  • Delude, 84, for dilute (malap.)
  • Demonstratives, 45
  • Dentals slurred, 83, 111, 178, 216
  • Depone, 72, to give evidence, Sc. law term
  • Depute, 72, Sc. law
  • Derivative inflection, 36
  • Dern, derned, dearn, 31, A. S. dark; dearn-unga, secretly. Go. ga-tarnjan, to hide, dernd, Fi., pondered, noun, dernin; O. E. dernan, Fris. dern, Teut. *darnjo, hidden, secret; verb, O. E. diernan, H. Ger. ternen; obsol. as adj., survives as v.

"This darned within my breist this mony a day."—"Gentle Shepherd."

  • Descriptive epithets in Sc., 86
  • Deug, 31, 206, C. Du. virtue, merit; cf. Ger. Tugend, Go. dugan
  • Dialectic growth, 8
  • Dicht, 70, 102, 181, Sc. to wipe up, to winnow corn. O. E. dihtan, used in many senses in O. E. and Ger.; to wipe up is sp. No.; dight, poet. Eng.; obsol. as "to prepare," cog. Ger. dichten—N. E. D.; Ger. dichter in 17th c. authors in general; A. S. dihtan, set in order, E. dight—all borr. from Lat. dictare, to dictate, compose
  • Di-da, 35–36, 167, Go. reduplicating pret. of a possible verb, *dedjan, to do, ga-deds, a doing. Di-da=did. Ger. thun, That. ​
  • Dike, 103, Ayr. a ditch, O. N. dike, Ger. Teich, a pool; sense varies bet. ditch and bank; lit. "dug or thrown up." "February fill the dike."
  • Dilly-daw, 136, Sc. form of dilly-dally, as noun, in sense of untidy get-up: "a slow, slovenly person." E. E. D. has the quot. in the text
  • Diminutives in Sc. and C. Du., 195
  • Dimple, 147, Mo. to dint, make an impression, as of dimpling: quots. in E. D. D. are modern; none from Moray. See deeple. "Ye sudna dimple yir taties."—Gregor
  • Dinna, dizna, dizn't, 168, 171, "do" with negative
  • Dirdum, 150, No. "Or. unknown: not Sc. dird, a blow, consequences of error."—N. E. D. "The loon took a haud o'im, but he gae 'im a dirdum fae 'im, and ower 'e yod (gaed)."—Gregor
  • Discharge, 72, Sc. law term
  • Dishielogie, 123–156, Fi. tussilago or colt's-foot, dishy-lagy, Roxb.—E. D. D.
  • Dius, 12, 20, 257, Go. deer, any wild animal as in Shak.
  • Div and divna, 112, 167, 171, sp. Sc. also dis, disna, and dinna, for do, does not, and don't. The v here is an odd survival of an Ind.–Ger. causative formation, common in Sans., as stha, to stand, sth-ap-ayati, he causes to stand. Not in N. E. D.
  • Divot, 149, Sc.; No. thin, flat piece of turf. Jam. from Lat. de-fo-dere, to dig
  • Divot-fecht, 125, fight with thrown turfs; divot, origin not given in N. E. D.
  • Divvel, 78, 196, devil, by a Gael. speaker. "Ministers, when they fall, are like angells that are divells."—Alex. Henderson to Gen. Ass., 1638
  • Do, 206. See dow
  • Do, 36, Eng. auxiliary, is not in Go. except in past tenses of weak verbs, e. g. lagi-dedjan=I lay-did, I laid, from lagjan, to lay
  • Doach, 102, salmon-trap, peculiar to Gall.; or. unknown; not in E. D. D.
  • Dochter, 18, 247, daughter. Go. dauhtar
  • Dockens, 119, No.; O. E. doccan, Ger. Dockenblätter, Gael. dogha, burdock, anything valueless—"no worth a docken"
  • Daddies, 163, polled cattle, Ab.; dod, doddy, a rounded hill (Bord.); dad, a lump, Fris. dadde, lump, bunch.—N. E. D. Abbrev. of George: not in these senses in E. D. D. See curl-doddy
  • Doer, 72, Sc. law
  • Doited, 110, sp. No., obtuse from age, perh. var. of doted; pron. deitit in Fi.
  • Domestic series, 207
  • Dool (for quoits), 131. See dules
  • Dop, 222, C. Du. dop, shell, husk, cover. N. E. D., "Of Norse origin, O. N. daup." Var. doup, deep, candle-doup, Ger. Topf, a pot
  • Dopper-Boer, Kirk, 192, 193, C. Du.
  • Dorbie, 134, a mason, Fi., prob. akin to O. Fris. derf, Ger. derb, sturdy, O. N. thjarfr, common
  • Dortin, 137, since 1500, obsc. or.; sulks, ill-humour. "Dorty Janet's pride."—Allan Ramsay
  • Dorts, 69, sulks, Bu. to over-nurse—"She dorts awa at that geet o' hers, an' say gee in't feesic."—Gregor
  • Dottrifeed, 151, Mo., rel. to dodder and totter, dottered, dotard, senile.—N. E. D.
  • Double negative, 197
  • Dough, 132, 254. Ger. Teig, Du. deeg, A. S. dah, O. N. deig; from Go. deigan, to "knead," daigs, dough. Cf. Ger. Sauerteig; cf. Lat. fingo
  • Doughy, 172. See daichie
  • Dow, 31, 69, 175, 206, can, No. Go. dauh, pret. *dauhta. O. H. G. *tohta; Go. dugan, Ger. taugen, Sc. docht and dought, to be good for, strong, to avail

"He downa gang to rest for his heart is in a flame."—Hogg.

  • Dowie, 86, given under dolly in Jam. (II. 77). "The dowie dens ​o' Yarrow" is not referred to. (J. B. F.)
  • Drag, 146, North, a drag-harrow
  • Draigens, 127–134, K., kites, dragons
  • †Drake, 251, usually interpr. as "duck-king," the d representing a radical, as seen in Du. een-d Lat. ana-t-is. Kl. says, "Ger. Enterich is the O. Teut. anut-trahho, the latter element of which being obscure in origin."
  • Dree, 23, 61, Go. driugan, to serve as a soldier; ga-drauhtins, soldiers under the centurion (Matt. viii. 9); A. S. dreogan, to endure; der. dree, drow; Go. ga-drauhts, a soldier, from driugan
  • Dreich, 153, No. dregh, earlier form of dree, O. E. dréogan, Go. driugan, to do military service—revived as archaism; dwarf, not conn. See driugan
  • Drintin, 162, 163, Kinc. Not in N. E. D.
  • Drive, dreiband, 23 (Go.), pres. part, of dreiban, to drive, O. E. drifan, Ger. treiben
  • Droch, 139, dwarf. O. E. dweorh, Fris. dwirg, Ger. Zwerg, *dhwerg=σέρφος=midge, "droich, perh. metath. of duerch or similar form of dwarf; Gael. droich, borr."—N. E. D.
  • Drok, 208, busy, 0. Du. See trokes
  • Drorin-room, 82, Cockney
  • Droshachs, 115, Celt. var. of drugs
  • Drownded, 35, drowned
  • Drusan, 48, Go. to fall, whence dross, drus, fall—"great was the fall (drius) thereof."—Matt. vii. 27. In N. E. D. dross cog. with Ger. driusen
  • Dubs, 66, 171, 174, pools, No.; "or. uncertain."—N. E. D.
  • Duchman, duckie, 155, Mo., "a small stone on a larger, and attempted to be hit off by the players"
  • Duddie, 183, Cu. Cf. duds
  • Duffy, 172, Cu. See daichie, doughy
  • Dules, dool, dole, dulls, 106, 127, 131, 196, stone as mark, post; Ens. dôle, Du. doel, aim, butt.
  • Dunderhead, 134, a blockhead: or. obsc.
  • Dunt, 97, a dull blow, var. of dint; a large piece—

"Dunts o' kebbuck, taits o' 'oo,
Whiles a hen, an' whiles a soo."

  • Dunter, 124, 140, Pi., eider duck, Orc.
  • Dusty miller, 121, Auricula
  • Dwalla, 153, Cu. to wither, dwale, O. N. dvöl, delay, Sw. dvala, a trance
  • Dweeble, 86, prob. a form of Lat. debilis. Not in Jam. or Imp.
  • Dwine, a dwinin, 34, fade away; O. E. dwinan, N. dvina, to vanish, Du. dwijnen

E

  • E, 79, 81, 84, 110, thin sound for a; Sc. ee for i
  • Ea, 180, 188, in place names
  • Each, ech, 21, Gael. (war) horse. See aihwa
  • †Eager, 30, not conn. with Go. ogan, to dread, but with Lat. acer, through O. Fr.
  • Ear of corn, 20, So. ick-er, Ger. Ahre, Du. aar. Go. ab-s, Lat. acus. the "sharp" thing. E. and Du. drop the gutt.
  • Ear, 23, 252, to plough, O. E. Go. arjan, A. S. erian, Lat. arare
  • Earn, Erne, 20, as in Ger. Adler, for adel-ar, edel-ar, noble bird; or. aar in Ger. is the eagle, and still in dial. Cf. Go. ara, O. N. are, O. E. earn, Du. arend
  • Eben, 171, Cu. even
  • -Ed, 88 (suffix); =var. -et, -it
  • Eddicate, 89, educated
  • Eediwatt, 75, idiot
  • Eeldin, 122, fuel. A. S. aeling, from ælan, to burn.
  • Eend, end, eynd, aynd, aynd-les, 31, 234, 255, breath, from Go. an-an, which see

"An' a' wurr blithe to tak' their eind."

"Christ. Ba'in."

  • -Ei, 39, 45, Go. pron. particle, Sans. ya
  • Eident, 126, 161, active, diligent, or. unknown; eidentlie
  • Eirn-mail, 29, rust on linen. See mail ​
  • Eis-arn, 26, 259, iron. Du. ijzer, O. H. G. Isarn, Ger. Eisen
  • Elephant, 21, 74, 105; elephant first in Edinburgh (1680). "Of the ultimate ety. nothing is really known."—N. E. D. Deriv. in text, that of the late Prof. Aufrecht, a Sanskrit scholar of European repute
  • Elshon, 134. Orc. alison; E. awl, Ger. Ahle; root, Sans. ar-pa-ya, to pierce, causal of ri, to go
  • Elys, 62, 251, eels (Barb.)
  • E-nyuch, 13, enough; Ger. genug; Go. pref. pres. ga-nah, it suffices, ga-nohs, sufficient
  • Erde, 49, earth. Also airth, yird
  • Ernin, 133, rennet. M. E. rennen, to run in sense of coagulate, var. earn, yearn, A. S. yrnan, to run
  • Erp, 248, to. See arbi, arpiet
  • Esk, 166, river
  • Esk, 149, Fi. newt
  • Etter-cop, 204, the spider; etter-cap. Ger. Eiter, A. S. áttor, poison, O. N. eitr; cop, cob, a tuft, a spider, C. Du. kop, any round lump or knob
  • Ettle, 75, 97. Ic. aetla, ettla, to think, determine
  • Even, 88, think equal to
  • Except, 90, 91
  • Expiry, expiration, 92
  • Expressions for small quantities, 138
  • Extinguish, 72, Sc. law
  • Eyme, eem, 63, 69, 71, uncle; Du. oom, A. S. éam, E. G. eme, uncle on the mother's side, Lat. avunculus, Go. *auh-aims, where h=c (Lat.). Lat. avus, Go. awo, grandmother, Ger. Oheim. See Oom Paul, 63

F

  • F sound, 111
  • Fa', 82, fall
  • Faarar, farder, 195
  • Faarder, 195, farther
  • Faar-keeker, 197, C. Du.
  • Fadar, 18, 247, Go. Sc. fethir, faethir, E. father
  • Fadreins, 18, Go. parents
  • Fael, feal, 149, 200, a sod; turf, Gael, fàl, a sod
  • Faggot, 135, 182
  • Fagrs, 29, Go. fair, from faih-an, to suit, Ger. fug-en, causal of fagrs=to make suitable, A. S. faegrs, fair
  • Fâhan, 212, Go. to grasp, A. S. fon, vangen (Taal). Kl. "conn. of finger. Go. figgr-s, with this root fanh not certain"
  • Faihu, 10, 20, 21, 250, Go. cattle, or. property in cattle. Du. vee, Ger. Vieh, Ic. fe, Sc. fe
  • Fail, 72, 137, become bankrupt
  • Fair horney, 127, 187, fairplay in the game of "hornie;" descr. by Jam. sub voce
  • Fairzna, 18, Go. heel, Ger. Ferse, pres. only in Ger. among Teut. tongues
  • Familiar epithets in Taal, Sc. and E. 194
  • Familiar thou, 172
  • Fani, 23, Go. fen, mud, Fr. fene, Du. veen
  • Fank, 65, 212, a sheep-pen. Gael. Fang, faing, valve of a pump-well, fang, v. to catch; Ger. fangen, Go. figgrs, finger.

"He thocht the warlocks o' the rosy cross
Had fanged him in their nets sae fast."

"Bord. Minstr."

  • Fanners, 146, winnowing or dichting machine, brought from Holland by Meikle, 1710
  • Farm-toon, 25, 65, homestead
  • Faths, 18, 24, 247, Go. lord of the feast, conn. Go. fodr, a sheath, as the protector. See Indo–Eur. preserved only in Sans., Go., and Lat., akin to fath-er. See fother
  • Fauho, 20, fox, peculiarly Teut.; or. the tailed one. Sans, puccha, a tail
  • Faus, 29, few. Lat. paucus, Go. fawai, pl.
  • Faw, 124, 210, Ger. Falle; mooss-faw, C. Du. muis-val, N. müs-föll, mouse-fall or trap, what falls. Cf. pit-fall
  • Fawmous, 175, Fi. falmishly, Cu. ​
  • Fe, 10, 20, O. Sc. cattle; or. property in farm stock; Eng. fee, Sc. kitchen fee, Ger. Vieh. See faihu.
  • Fear, 16, Gael. a man, Lat. vir. Go. wair, A. S. waru
  • Feck, 86, 138, a quantity. "The maist feck," the bulk; from effect.—N. E. D.

"What feck o' stirks an' milk coos hae ye?"

  • Feckless, 87, futile
  • Feeky, fikey, 63, 86, 136, 176, fidgety. O. N. fikenn, eager
  • Feel a smell, 91
  • Feet-washing, 218, C. Du. and O. Sc.
  • Fell, 56, 168, 174, Go. filu, Du. veel; common intensive; Ger. viel, and also fell, sturdy.

"A snod bit lassie, fell an' clever."

"Broken Bowl."

In N. E. D. Sc. sense classed under fell, fierce

  • Fell, 17, skin. O. E. fel, Du. vel, Ger. Fell, Go. thruts-fell, leprosy, Lat. pellis. "The form felt, for pelt, is a confusion of felt, a kind of cloth."—N. E. D.
  • Felling me, 106, "fooling," Ab.
  • Fencing the tables, 74
  • Fends, 70, defends
  • Fer, for, 33, 56, Go. fair, far, faur, intensive prefix; Ger. ver.
  • Fer-fochen, 56, fatigued, done up. Conn, with fecht, fight, Ger. Ge-fecht, Du. ge-vecht
  • Fermentum, 32, Lat. in Go. Gospels, leaven of the Pharisees
  • Ferse, 18, Ger. heel
  • Feuar, 72, small landholder
  • Feut-an'-a-half, 187, Cu.; cf. fit'n-a-half, Fi. a game
  • Few, 94, 169, as a noun
  • Fey, 22, fairy, fay, Fr. fée, It. fata, fate
  • Fichil, 128, 140, Gael. fachail, strife
  • Figgra-gulth, 15, 26, Go. finger-gold, ring
  • †Fijands, feint, 56, pres. part. of fijan, Go. to hate, fiend, Ger. feind, Sc. "feent a bit;" fiend, Go. fijan, to hate, Ger. feind. N. E. D. "obsc. or., can hardly be a variant of fiend"
  • Fill, 17, 27, Go. skin, in thruts-fill, leprosy, from thriutan, to threat, and fill, skin, Lat. pellis, Eng. fell
  • Filly, 250, foal, Go. fula,
  • Finevir, 154, whenever, Ab.
  • Finger-jingles, 183
  • Firlot, 150, O. N. "fiorthe hlotr, fourth part" of a boll

"A firlot o' guid cakes my Elspa' beuk."

"Gentle Shep."

  • Firr'm, 80, form, bench
  • Fiscal, 72, Sc. law term
  • Fisks, 11, Go. fish, Lat. piscis
  • Fit, 17, foot, Go. fotus
  • Flachter-golak, 125, 149, Ic. flag, spot where turf has been cut, O. N. flaga, slab of stone, thin turf; Eng. flake, flay. Da. flaae, Boer, vlei, holm land. Orc. flaw, flaa, C. Du. vlei
  • Flahta, 253, plaited. See flake
  • Flake, 24, 208, a sheep fence, O. N. hurdle, Du. vlaak, *O. Teut. flehtan, Lat. plectere, plait, a wattled hurdle. Go. flaihtan, to weave, flahta, a plait of hair
  • Flalie, 158, a flail (Ab.)
  • Flannen, 183, 250, flannel, a more correct form than flannel. W. gwlanen, gwlan, cog. with wool
  • Flauchter-spade, 125, 140, for paring turfs; flauch, to flay.

"A dibble an' a flauchter-spade"

"Jac. Ball."

  • Flaws, 131, 140, spec. Sc. a fragment of a horse-shoe nail, O. N. flaga, slab of stone, flaw; or. sense "something peeled or struck off," and "something flat."
  • Flax, 253, E. See flake
  • Fleech, fleich, 69, 168, flatter; obsc. prob. Go. ga-thlaihan, to treat kindly. Du. vleien, to flatter, Ger. flehen, to beseech.—"Fleech till the gudewife be kin'"
  • Fleed, 145, prob. var. of field, Mo. Jam. "a head-rig" (Ab.). Not in this sense in N. E. D.
  • Fleyin', 68, frightening. O. E. a-flygan, to frighten away. Go. us-flaugjan, fleg, to frighten—conn. with fly
  • Flyte, 128, scolding match ​
  • Fliar, 173, Cu. laugh heartily, fleer, N. flira, to grin. Jam. "to gibe, taunt," a "fleering tell-tale."—Shak.
  • Flings, 68, kicks up the heels.

"She sat an' she grat, an' she flate an' she flang"

  • Flit, 70, remove, M. E. flitten. Da. flytte—conn. with fleet
  • Flittermouse, 182, Cu. Ger. Fliedermaus
  • Foal, 20, Go. fula
  • Foarrie, 132, farrow, ferry (Bu.), cow, Du. verre-koe, ceased to bear, Fl. verroe-koe (16th c.)
  • Fode, 18, in ballads, a man. Jam. "foode, feode, a man."
  • Fog, 92, 149, moss; unknown or.: fjugg, Shet. airy stuff
  • Foggie-toddler, fuggy-, 122, 140, 149, small, yellow bumble-bee, that toddles among dry moss—fog moss, foggie-bee—Jam.
  • Fondness for diminutives, 195
  • Foo, 40, Ab. who
  • Foogie, fugie, 128, 151, one beaten in a fight, Lat. fugio, to flee—relic of school cock-fights, fuga, flight (law Lat.); Bu. to play truant—"The twa loons fugiet the squeel an' geed awa t' the widds, an' hairriet craws' nests a' day."—Gregor
  • Fool, 20, 81, 111, fowl, Go. fugls, bird
  • Foorsday, 39, Sc. dial.
  • Foot-pad, 167, path, Cu.
  • "Fork and knife," 92
  • For-hoo, 33, to forsake; for-how, O. E. for-hogian, for, reversing, and hogian, to think, care

"And the merle and the mavis for-hoo't their young."—"Qu.'s Wake."

  • Forrat, 167, Qu. forrit, Sc. forrard
  • Fother, 18, E. to stop a leak by covering it with a sail, Go. fodr, a sheath, conn. with faths, a lord (cf. food, feed), O. Teut. *fothro, a sheath, O. E. fodor, Du. voedr. Kl. says "two different roots are confused in futter (Ger.) *Go. fodjan, feed, food, and Go. fodr, a sheath." See faths.
  • Four-square, 92, square
  • Fousom, 153, fulsome, offensive in smell
  • Fouthie, 171
  • Fowersom, 176
  • Foy, 205, a feast, Shet., Ic. fog-und
  • Fozie, 85, 149, soft, Du. voos, N. fos, L. Ger. fussig, spongy
  • Frain, 31, 56, complain, ask, O. E. frayne, freyne, fregnan, O. N. fregna. Go. fraihnan, Ger. fragen. Jam. fryne, to fret from ill-humour, frynin. Not in N. E. D.
  • Fraising, 34, 153. N. E. D. has frais, to creak, Sw. frasa, to rustle, fraise, a fuss, commotion, Go. fraisith, teniptest

"He may indeed, for ten or fifteen days,
Mak meikle o' ye, wi' an unco fraise."

Allan Ramsay.

  • Fra-itan, 56, to eat up, Ger. fressen, E. fret, O. E. fretan, Du. vreten
  • Fraiw, 48, Go. seed, fry, spawn, Ic. frae. Da. frö
  • Frake, 85, a wheedler; fraik, s. v. fond discourse; fraikin, 140, 153. Not in N. E. D.
  • Frammelt, 147. See thrammelt, of which this is a var.
  • Frauja (masc), 22, 85, 205, Go.=master of the house, Du. vrouw, Ger. Frau; or. sense, "the first" in the house; cf. Ger. Fürst, O. N. freyr. Go. *fraujis (fern.) fraujo, Ic. Freya in our Friday. Distinguishes Our Lord in Go. Gospels. See free
  • Fra-was, 56, Go. pret. of fra-wis-an to spend; was; Ger. war; or. sense, to stay in a place
  • Freck, frack, 85, Orc. weak, delicate, O. E. free, Ger. frech, insolent, O. N. frekr, greedy. Go. friks
  • Free, 22, 56, ballad term. O. E. fréo, O. Fr. frî, Du. vrijer, a wooer, O. N. fri-r, Go. frei-s, frijon, to love, "dear," of kindred, a free man, E. friend. See freen
  • Freen, freend, 56, 127, friend, A. S. fréond, Go. frijonds, pres. part.; from frijon, to love; cf. Lat. amicus, amare; Du. vriend: or. kinsman, Du. vrijer, a lover. See free
  • Freits, freit, 122, 148, 163, anything superstitiously cherished, often a ​hobby, O. N. frétt, news, augury. O. E. freht, oracle, from Go. fraih-nan, to ask. See frain
  • Fremd, fremit, 32, 64, 206, strange, foreign, spec. Sc. O. E. fremede, Du. vremmd, H. Ger. vremde, strange, Go. framaths

"Is this the way the fremit serve us?"

"Broken Bowl."

  • Fremd loanin, 168, strange loan or cow-yard
  • Freyr, 22, N., prob. same as surname Frier
  • Friks, 85, Go. in faihu-friks, greedy of money. A. S. and O. E. freca, a hero, O. N. frekr, greedy, Sw. frack, daring. Jam. freik, frick, a strong man, petulant; Ger. frech, bold; C. Du. vrek, 214
  • Frius, 23, Go. frost, A. S. fréosan, fréorig, Ger. frier-en, Eng. freeze, Lat. pruina
  • From, 89, after, different
  • Fuls, 29, Go. foul, fou-nart=foul-marten
  • Fulzie, 68, 125, compost, manure, fulzie,—"what is trampled underfoot"
  • Furthie, 86, 137, 140, hospitable, free in giving, forthy, disposed to put oneself forth or forward; var. foothie—

"hat's gi'en wi' furthy glee."

  • Furesday, Fuursday, 83, Thursday
  • Fushonless, 87, "not given in Jam. at all, meaning under foisonless, an Eng. word." Shaks. foison, plenty. (J. B. F.)
  • Fut. ind. and pres. subj., 37
  • Futhork, 11, Go. A B C, the Runic alphabet, from the first six Runes, f, u, th, o, r, k
  • Fwore, 171, Cu. fore

G

  • G, 11, 83, its hard sound; gg=ng in Go.
  • Gaan, 208, C. Du. See gang
  • Gab, 68, fluency—"he has the gift o' the gab;"—var. of gape, prov. E. gob, the mouth, borr. from Gael. gob, beak, mouth; O. F. gob, a gulp; cog. gobble, gobbet, gabble
  • Gaby, 170, E. See gab
  • Gad, 12, 23, goad. Go. gazd-s, spike, O. N. gaddr, O. T. *gazdjâ, O. E. gyrd, yard; or. sense seen in Go. gad, a pike, fish with snout. Kl. sub Gerte says, goad and Go. gazd have a common origin, contrary to N. E. D.
  • Ga-dailans, 32, Go. partners, Sc. dealsmen
  • Gaebie, gebbie, 125, 152, hen's crop, "pron. against conn. with gab"—N. E. D.; cf. Gael. giaban, the gizzard
  • Gaed, 34, 56, went, Go. iddja, O. E. yode. See gang
  • Gaet, 62, road
  • Gaffer, 127, gefera, A. S. companion, equal, retainer from faran to fare. From godfather rather than grandfather in sense of an old man. See playfare
  • Gaggan, 56, Go. go, gang; gagg-s. Go. way, street, O. E. gangan, supplanted by gán, go, Du. gaan, Da. gá. See gang
  • Ga-hlaiba, 24, Go. fellows of the loaf; or. term superseded by "bread" in general sense
  • Gairnjan, 33, 56, Go. to long for, to yearn. Sc. girn, Ic. girna, to desire, gairnida, Go. pret.=yearned. See green
  • Gairtans, 70, garters
  • Gaisen, gaissend, gissen, gizzend, 33, 149, of a tub, leaking through drought, Ger. giessen. N. giosa, to spurt, gissen, leaky, Go. giutan, to pour
  • Gaits, gaiteins, 21, Go. goat, Sc. gait; goat-ling
  • Ga-juko, 48, Go. from jukan, to yoke: a parable, that which is paired, a simile
  • Galeithandan, 48, Go. from leithan. A. S. †lithan, Eng. lead, leiten, O. N. litha, to travel—cog. lead, lode, load. Ger. laden, is Go. lathon, to call, invite
  • Galesun, 48, perf. of lisan, to gather, A. S. and Eng. lease, to glean
  • Gallasses, 178–9, Fi. in form, Cu. var. of gallows; cf. bellisses=bellows
  • Gallop, 17, Go. ga-hlaupan
  • Galsh, 150, Mo., prob. conn. with ​gash in gash-mouthed, wide-mouthed, voluble. Not in Jam.
  • Gang, 32, Go. gaggian. The G. pret. iddja shows the conn. with verb of going in Sans., Gr., Lat. Its Sc. form is gaed, M. E. yode, with prefix ge-, as ga-iddja
  • Gannet, 125, solan goose, O. E. ganot, Du. gent, Eng. gan-d-er. In A. S. the sea is the "ganotes bath"
  • Gansell, 136, 140, gansellin, Bu.
  • Gar- or gor-, 149, intensive prefix
  • Garda, 25, 51, Go. yard or fold, gard-s, a house, or. sense, an enclosure; garth, Ger. gurt, gürten, A. S. gyrdan, gird, Go. gairdan, O. N. garth,—all, primarily, hedge round the homestead
  • Garda waldands, 25, Go. head of the house, lit. yard-wielding
  • Gardener's gairtens, 121, garters
  • Garr, 70, 185, has almost superseded "make" in Sc. In Sc. gar, to force. For N. sense of "do," Sc. uses gar as "make or cause to do," widely Teutonic, O. N. ger(v)a, O. E. gearwian, Eng. yare and gear, Ger. garben, gerben, to tan
  • Garrie-bee, 149, Mo. In archaic Eng. as garabee or hornet: gara-as in gerfalcon, gor-cock
  • Garron, 71, 201, Gael.
  • Gart, garth, gorth, gortchin, 25, 65, Go. garda, yard, N. garth-r, Da. gaard; common forms in place names. See garda
  • Garuns, 25, Go. market place, where people run together
  • Gatwo, 26, Go. a street, as in Sc. gate, road. N. gaita, Ger. gasse, from get, not "go"
  • Gaw, 67, 139, rack, flaw, or. uncert., gell, a crack, Shet., galli, a defect (Ic.)
  • Gawi, 19, 22, 23, Go. a country district, cog. E. yeoman
  • Gawm, goam, gome, 33, 181, to stare (Cu.), stare vacantly; also goave, to recognise, "he never goamt me." O. N. gaum-r, Go. *gauma, heed; gaumjan, to observe
  • Gawpus, 85, 136, 170, simpleton, prob. from gawp, gape, to yawn or gape
  • Gayly, 168, Cu. Sc. geyly
  • Ge-, 17, prefix, M. E. ye-, y-, i-, Go. ga-
  • Ge', 196, C. Du. for gave, Sc. gied
  • Geans, 127
  • Geat, 182, Cu. See get, Ab.
  • Geavin', 170, Cu. See goave, goavy
  • Gêbun, 11, Go., gayvoon, they gave
  • Geddis, 62, pike, spec. Sc. N. gedde, gadd-r, a spike, Go. gazd-s. See gad
  • Geel, 212, C. Du. yellow. See gool
  • Gefallen, 84, Ger. Chaucer, i-fallen
  • Geld, geld-ing, 23, 148, castrate, N. geld-a, Ger. gelze. Cf. galti, a pig (Shet.). See giltha.—Not in Jam.
  • Gellies (g hard), 120, 140, tadpoles, leeches—var. of jelly. Bu. geal-caul, ice-cold (g soft)
  • Ger-bick, 131, Orc. the gerss- (grass) bank or bauk. See bauk
  • German partitive, 94
  • Get, 88, 169, as auxiliary, "Can I get going?"
  • Gett (pron. geet), 33, 66, Ab. child. Not. in N. E. D. Gyte, var. of gait, from get, be-get a child, a first-year pupil in Edin. High School. Jam. get, gett, geat, geit:—"A theiffis geit."—"Elgin Records," 1627

"Whingin' getts about your ingle side."

"Gen. Shep."

  • Gevel, 25, 150, 207, gable, Go. gibla, Da. gavl, Ger. giebel, lit. "the outermost"
  • Gey, 168, u. intensive
  • Geyser, 33, Ic. lit. "the gusher"
  • Giban, 12, Go. to give, Sc. gee (g hard)
  • Giglot, 137, 210, 140, var. of giggle
  • Gilpy, 85, 137, a romp

"The gilpy stood and leuched (lauched) fell blate."—"Christ. Ba'in'."

  • Giltha, 23, Go. sickle. Ic. gelda, Sc. geld, to castrate; Eng. geld-ing. See geld
  • Gimmer, 254, Sc. a two-year-old ewe, N. gimbur
  • Gingers, 187, Cu.
  • Gird, girr', 127, a hoop for play or for a barrel—var. of girth: N. gjorth, Go. gairda, a girdle
  • Girn, 33, 56, 62, 67, weep, girn, spec. Sc. sense, to be peevish—var. of grin. Girn, a wire snare for rabbits ​
  • Girnal, 135, 155, same word as granary, but app. to a chest. See meal-girnal
  • Girnin in a widdie, 187. See gairnjam, waddja
  • Girss, grass, 19, 23, 70, Go. gras in sense of herb: cog. with grow
  • Girt, 85, 170, Cu. great, Sc. grit, Ger. gross
  • Gistra dagis, 254, Go. yestreen-day
  • Giutan, 33, Go. to pour out water: Ger. giennen, Sc. gizzend, Eng. gush. See gaisen
  • Glaur, 186, mud. "They say Christ will get a blecked face by the gate. An (if) He get this done, He must waide the glarre myre of our sins." "17th c. Sermons"
  • Glegs, clegs, glegee, 85, 122, 123, 131, gad-fly, horse-fly
  • "Gleg i' the up-tak," 32, 85, 86, 207, quick in intelligence, N. glegg-r, clear, clear-sighted, Go. glaggwuba, O. E. gleaw, clever
  • Glegly, 32, cg. Go. glaggwuba, accurately ἀκριβῶς
  • Gleshan, 116, Cptn.
  • Gleg, glee, gleed, 69, Sc. squint, to look asquint, gleid, glyd, squint-eyed
  • Gliff, 174, also Cu.
  • Glisk o' cauld, a cold coming on, 138, spec. Sc.: glisk, also a slight look.—N. E. D.
  • Glove, 16, A. S. glôf for ge-lof. See lofa
  • Glower, 174, spec. sc. to stare with wide-open eyes: glower-oot, Cu. Da. glo, to stare, E. glewr
  • Go, 85, Eng. Sc. through-pit
  • Goavy dick, 120, 138, 170, goave, to stare stupidly: a broad, vacant stare. Jam. gives also goif, gove, goup, gawe, gauf. Not in N. E. D.
  • Gob, 170, var. of gab; gubb, seum, froth, spit, Shet.
  • Goed, die, 224, C. Du. Go. gôd-s, good, Sc. gude. Here goods, property. A common Sc. derivative is goodin, manure, both as v. and n. "There's naething waur nir seed hay for giddein golacks an' ither craiters o' that kin," was the bold figure of an Ab. farmer
  • Golak, 122, 140, 149, a beetle, Gael. forchar (forked) gollach, the carwig. Jam. gelloch (Ayr., Dfr.), gavelock. Not in N. E. D. Also as gollack or horny gollack
  • Gold, 26, Go. gulth, radical sense "yellow." See gool
  • Gomas, 170, Cu. Not N. E. D.
  • Gomeril, 85, 136, gommeral, Cu., Sc. a fool, silly fellow. Jam. gomral, "a daft gomeril o' a wife"
  • Goodie (little), 123, sun spurge
  • Gool, guld, 64, 148, 177, in Mo. generally called gweel; guil(d), the gold floewr, Du. goud-bloem. Ger. gold-blume, E. corn-gool
  • Goose, 134, a tailor's iron, handle like a goose's neck
  • Gope, 170, C. Du.
  • Gorbel, gorbal, gorblin, 125, 176, unfledged birds, from gorb, greedy; gorp, Cu. young bird: cog. with grab, grip, grasp
  • Gorrock, 149, red or moor cock
  • Gorlin, 176, Cu. var. of gorp. See gorbel, gorlin; gurlin, a boy, a gorbet, Shet., conn. Ic. karl
  • †Gorse, 19, O. E. gorst, Ger. gerste, barley, akin to Lat. hordeum, or. something bristly or prickly: not conn. with grass
  • Gospel, 27, O. E. gód spel, trans. of Gr. evangelium. Go. thinth-spillon from thinths, good, and spillon, to announce, spell
  • Gossip, 137, O. E. god-sibb, related godfather or godmother
  • Gote, 172, Lan., gwote, Cu. "About the draining of the loch allows him to make his stank-gote to that effect."—"Glasgow Records," 1696
  • Gow-an, lucken-gowan, 182, also Gael. and Ic., from golland, globe flower. See gool and lock
  • Gowk, cuckoo, 216, 242, 251
  • †Gowpen, gowpin full, goupen-fu', 33, 138, handful. N. gaupn; or. sense single hand hollowed. N. E. D. does not mention Go. kaupatjan in this connection as in text
  • Graep, graip, 146, spec. Sc. Sw. grep, Da. greb, a fork for manure; var. grip, grope. See gripple
  • Graphic descriptive epithets, 86 ​
  • Greedy, 29, Go. gredags, grêdus, hunger
  • Greesh, 150, fire-place, cog. Ir. grushach. See gris
  • Greet, 30, 35, 87, spec. Sc. cry. O.E. graetan, N. gràta, Go. grêtan, to weep, grat, pret. Go. gai-grot

"She sat an' she grat
An' she flet an' she flang."

  • Grewy, "one of the most expressive of Sc. words, to be looked for under grewing (II. 452 Jam.), where you are referred to groue, growe." (J. B. F.)
  • Grice, 68, 133, 182, 250, sp. Sc. a young pig. O.N. griss. Da. gris, Skr. grishti, E. griskin, N. gricifer, grice or swine fever
  • Grien, green, 129, to yearn, A.S. geornan, long for. See gairnjan

"Then a' the hooss for sleep begin to grein."

Fergusson.

  • †Griere, 93, 128, Sc. farm-bailiff. W.Sax. gerefa, in Eng. reeve, sheriff, land-grave, Ger. Graf, conn. A.S. róf, active, not Ger. Graf.—Kl. Sk.
  • Gripple, gruip, 132, Du. greppel, a ditch, from Du. grip; grips, grips, O.E. grép, a burrow, groop, Ger. Graben. See graep
  • Grippy, 69, tight-fisted, Du. gripich, from grip
  • Grips, 132, hand-i-grips, a fight at close quarters
  • Gris (Irish), 150, grushach. See greesh
  • Groop, grupe, gruip, 132, Ger. Graben, drain in cow-byre; Eng. graft (obsc.); Du. gracht, a ditch, and street on either side of a canal, grare, to dig
  • Groosie, 153, shivering with cold; groue, growe, groose to shudder; grue, goose skin on approach of a cold. Cf. Ger. grausam.
  • Groosin, 138, Ger. grausen, a shivering (cold) fit, gruse, groosy, grue, to shudder from cold, dread, &c. Ger. grausen, Du. gruwen
  • Grozets, grozers, grossarts, 127, 240
  • Grumphie, the pig (echoic)
  • Grundie swallie, 123, groundsel, grunde-swylige (10th c.); grundee-swelgiae (7th c). N.E.D. discusses the confusion of these two forms, not very satisfactorily
  • Gucken, 209, colloquial Ger. like Sc. seestu'. Cf. keek, which see
  • Gude, 29, 81, god-s, goth-s, gen. gôdis. Go. good, or. sense, fitting, suitable; Du. goed, Ger. gut, landed estate
  • Gudge, (Ab.) 23, 56, 65, 112, a peasant. Go. gaujans, peasants, gauja, a peasant, 21; gawi, a country district, in place names, 19, 22; gudge, not in N.E.D. Jam. has gudget, a camp follower, Fr. goujat
  • Gud-hus, 25, Go. God's house, guth, masc. in sg. and pl. gutha. In Go. neut. in pl. neuter. In or. use anal. to Lat. numen and deus.—N.E.D.
  • Gud-ja, 28, Go. priest, good man
  • Guildee, 116, Cptn.
  • Guisers, guisard, guisin, 104, in fantastic guise
  • Gulls, 177, Cu.
  • Gully, 133, spec. Sc. or. obs.—a large knife

"A lang kale gully hung doon by his side."

  • Gum, 181
  • †Guma, 16, 248, 249, Go. man. A.S. guma, "groom, difficult,—not from guma."—N.E.D.
  • Gumpshin, gumption, 33, 136, 181, 217, judgment, mother wit, rummle-gumption. Not explained in N.E.D. Conn. O.N. gaumr, care, heed. Go. gaumjan, to take notice of. See gawm
  • Gundy, 130, 185, 259, syn. of clack, which see
  • Gunst, 31, 245, Ger. Klüge=ge-unst, O.H.G. gi-unnan=gönnen: oldest form anst (without prefix ge-). Go. ansts, A.S. ést; with gönnen, cp. Du. gunnen, A.S. unnan, O.N. unna. For Go. root ans=Ger. ¤un.s, unsan, O.N. áss, A.S. os=Godhead, Sans. asura for ansura. See an-an, eynd, &c.
  • Gur-pug, 71, Orc.=a small Shetland horse
  • Gurthie, 140, "app. spec. to what burdens the stomach."—Jam. Bu. galsoch, gulsoch, fond of good eating.—Gregor ​
  • Gus-gus! 67, 133, call to pigs, Ic. gosse, a pig, Sc. gussie, "Goosie! goosie!"; grumphie, Fi., a pig, Ic. grumfie, a spectre; grynta, to grunt, Shet.
  • Gutty, 150, pot-bellied: gut, the intest. canal of animals, Go. giutan, to pour, Sc. and O.E. gote, a drain; cf. Fi. gutsy, gluttonous. A dignified Aberdeenshire burgh official was popularly known as Gutty Willie. See gaissen, giutan
  • Gutter-gaw, 140, a pustule shown on feet between the toes after paddling in gutters: "conn. with gall either as bile, Du. gal, Ic. gall, or with O.F. galler, to gall, in F. gale, scab on fruit, Lat. callus, thick skin."—Sk.
  • Gynnys, 62, gin=noose, from engine
  • Gyte, 33, silly, to gang gyte, perh. cog. with giddy, out of one's senses

"Screamed like a young gyte."

"Christ. Ba'in'."

H

  • H., 12, 82, 177, Cu., before a vowel in Go.
  • Haa-penny deevels, 130, 186, hawp'ny d—, old-fashioned gingerbread figures
  • Haar=mist, 98, cf. hoar frost, and prob. O.N. hárr, hoar, hoary
  • Hack, 146, North, a muck-rake. Du. hak, hoe, Eng. hack. See howk
  • Hae, 197, for have, C. Du. hé
  • Haemit, hamil, 153, 171, 200, hamald, hamelt, hamel, from hame, home, O.N. heimolt, Shet. heimilt, pasture adjoining a yard or enclosure; hamly, homely, 62
  • Hafflin, 66, 137, 187, young plowman, hawflin, spec. Sc., one half-grown
  • Hafjands(and-), Go. answering: from hafjan, to heave. Ger. heben, to lift, Lat. cap-i-o. Cf. Bible, "lifted up his voice"
  • Hagg, 66, 140, cow-tender. Not in N.E.D.
  • Haggis, 98, dish, now spec. Sc., der. unknown, Fr. hachis is later
  • Haihs, 17, Go. one-eyed.
  • Haims, 32, village, Go. haim, af-haims, from home. O.E. hain, Du. heem, Ger. heim
  • Haims, 130, Jam. hammys, hems, collar of working horse. Du. haam, O.F. ¤ham—to hold against. "Not known bef. 1300." N.E.D. See brecham.
  • Hained, 70, 130, saved. Not in N.E.D. Hain, to spare, save from exertion:—

"An' swankies they link aff the pat
To hain their joes."—"Farm. Ha'."

  • Hairdeis, 68, Go. a herdsman
  • Hairst, 94, 128, 129, autumn, Ger. Herbst, harvest
  • Hairus, 25, Go. a sword, A.S. heor
  • Hait, 12, a bit, an atom. "The de'il hait ails you."—M'Crie's "Knox." Ic. haete, common phrase, also explained as "De'il have it," which see
  • Haithi, 23, Go. heath
  • Hake and manger, 173, live in plenty
  • Haldand, 24, 35, Go. keeping, holding, Eng. hold, O.E. haldan, N. halda, Ger. halten, Go. haldan, Sc. hud, hudden; Go. only to keep cattle, which term superseded it in Sc.; hald, for hai-hald, Go. pret. of haldan
  • Hale, 106, to take a goal. Not in N.E.D.
  • Hale-apothek, 86, 138, Sc. entire or whole quantity, Gr. apotheké
  • Half two, 197, Sc. idiom
  • Halja, 28, Go. hell. O.N. and Du. hel, or. "the coverer up." See hool; Go. huljan, to cover
  • Hallan, 68, perh. dim. of hall, screen wall inside doorway, inside porch.—N.E.D.

"Richt scornfully she answered him
Begone ye hallan-shakker."

  • Hallion, halones, 160
  • Halp, 36, Go. helped, pret. of hilp-an
  • Halts, 17, Go. halt, lame, Eng. limp, v., to make a halt
  • Hamfs, 17, Go. one-handed=ha-nifa. Skeat, under hamper, connects it with hamfs, M.E. hamelen, to mutilate, render lame, hammle, an ungainly walk, Ic. hamla and Ger. hammel, mutilated. See ​nieve, neive: hummel has many uses in Sc.—hornless, mean, shabby, to dress bere or barley
  • †Hansel, 15, 32, a New Year gift. "Form corr. to O.E. handselen, giving of the hand over a bargain, O.N. hands-al, money handed over to anyone. The usages—luck penny, auspicious inauguration, &c.—not accounted for by these; cf handsel, earnest money, Ger. Handgeld."—N.E.D. Go. hunsl, gift laid on the altar, hunsla-staths, the altar. N.E.D. does not note Go. hunsl in this connection
  • Hantle, 86, 138, a considerable quanity; not known before 1700; or. obs.—N.E.D.
  • Hardies, 186 Fi. hard biscuits
  • Hare-shed, 151. Jam. "hare-shard, hareshaw = harelip, harchatt, hareskart (Renf.), from hare, and Ic. ska, a particle, Ger. Scharte, a gap," A.S. sceart, shard
  • Harjis, 23, Go. army, Ger. Heer, Eng. herr-ing
  • Harmless-loonie, 139, natural or imbecile, Lat. luna, the moon. Not in N.E.D. Cf. a "dwamly craiter," Lan., in same sense
  • Harn-clout, 110 , herden, hurden, contr. of harden, a coarse fabric made from hards, Du. heerde, threads of flax, O.Teut. type, hizdon, coarser parts of flax separated in hackling. Clout, var. of cloth, Ger. Kleid
  • Harns, 14, 16, 17, 118, 204, 207, Go. hwairnei, brains, hwairnei-staths, Golgotha or place of a skull, Du. hersen-pan; spec. Sc. harn-pan, the skull, brain-pan; harns, brains. O.N. hjarne, Du. hersenen, Ger. ge-hirne
  • Hat, hitten, 88, Orc. hote, hotten, hutt; Orc. pret. hit
  • Haubith, 17, Go. head, A.S. heafod, Lat. caput
  • Haugh, 19, 23, holm-land, Go. hugs, a field, O.E. halk, corner, nook, Du. hoek
  • Haus-jan, 12, Go. to hear; widely Teut. Go. alone shows s, gahausjan, to hear; s and r interchange
  • Have a want, to, 91
  • Haver, 72, Sc. law, "witness having documents to produce in a suit; not given Jam." (J. B. F.)
  • Haveril, 98, 136, spec. Sc. one who havers or talks without sense—or. unknown.—N.E.D. Hyveral, a lounger, idler.—Ed.
  • Havver, haffer, 177, 183, 212, oats, "presumably Norse." Fr. haver, Ger. Hafer, var. hauver
  • Haversack, 177, oat-sack. See havver
  • Hause, 18, 56, neck, O.E. and O.N. hals, Go. hals, hass, Orc. Pap o' the hass, given in Jam. as Ulva for Uvula. (J. B. F.)
  • He, 39, 78, 171, dee, for the, in Ir. and Gael. dialect respectively
  • Hearken, 88, hear a child his lessons
  • Heath, 23, 32, go. haithi, haithno, a heathen woman; or. sense, prairie land. Ger. Heide
  • Heather-reenge, 119, reenge, var. of rinse or range. Either will suit sense
  • Heech, hee, 12, 38, high, Go. hauh-s, hauhnan, to be heech, to hichten. Ger. hoch, Go. hauhnan, to be exalted
  • Hech! 53, deep breath, exclamation; Sc. form of heigh! "Hech Sirs!" not given in Jam. (J. B. F.)
  • Heckle, 70, to dress; Flax; v. and n. var. of hackle, hatchel
  • Heft, 56, axe handle, O.E. haefte, Ger. Heft, Eng. haft, have, heave, that by which anything is held.—N.E.D.

"I'll nature hefts sauls that weep an' pine."

Allan Ramsay.

  • Heftet, 56, 131, 147, 177, ga-haftida, Go. cleaved to: haft, O.E. haeft, Ger. Heft, a handle, root in heave or have, O.N. hefta, to bind retain (milk, urine), Ger. heften, heftet, acclimatised, as sheep to pasture. Shet. provided with
  • Hei-sned, 163, hay-cutter
  • Hemmil, 180, Cu. presumably misreading for skemel, which see
  • Herdwick wool, 179, Cu.
  • Heritors, 72, landlords, Sc. law
  • Herried, harriet, herryin, 124, 151, 155, robbed (a nest), var. of, harry, harrow deriv. from Go. ​harjis, an army, and widely Teut. See harjis, hership. Bu. "The loons got a gueede soun dribban for hairrien the craw's nest."—Gregor

"They hao near hand herrit hale
Ettrick Forest and Lauderdale."

"Bord. Minst."

  • †Herr-ing, 23, O.E. hering, Du. haring, Ger. Häring, Hering, F. hareng. Gen. explained as from heer, an army—"the fish that comes in hosts," but its short vowel is against this.—N.E.D.
  • Herrt, 17, heart. Go. hairto, Ger. Herz
  • †Herrth, haurja, 25, burning coals. Go., Du. haard, Ger. Herd, fireplace, floor. N.E.D. does not notice connection of hearth with haurja
  • Herry, 137, a virago, perhaps akin to Ger. Herr
  • Hership, 167, A.S. here. Go. harjis, a troop and scipe (abst. term), Ic. her-skap-r, ravaging. See harjis, herry
  • Hery, 52, M.E. to praise, O.E. herian. Go. hasjan, hazjandane, pres. part.
  • Het, 171, Du. def. article
  • Hetzen, 69, Ger.=to set on dogs to fight
  • Hey, hay, 19, Go. hawi, meaning grass, herb; Du. hooi, Ger. Heu
  • Hey-soos, 146, hay-sows, hay-ricks
  • Hi, 45, Go. this, old pronon. stem
  • Hick nor ree, 189, Cu.
  • Hickory-pickery, 115
  • Hiding, 101, thrashing
  • Hie, 53, Eng. to hasten, O.Sc. hyand, hastening, O.E. higian, to pant, Du. hijgen, Ger. heichen, Sc. hech
  • Hilda, 27, Pr. name, the gracious one, O.E. hold, Du. hon, Go. hulths, gracious, wilja-halthei, benevolence, ¤hilthan, to be inclined. See hulths
  • Himins, 23, Go., Ger. Himmel
  • Himsel', 91, himself, in "He's no ——— the day"
  • Hind, 65, 181, 184, ploughman—chiefly on Borders. M.E. hine, O.North, in sense of famuli: hine faedar (Rushw. Gl.)=pater familias, A.S. hyne, Cu. hyne. In hind, fem. deer, the d is radical; O.E. hind, Ger. Hinde, Go. hinthan, to catch
  • Hine, 45, E. dial. him
  • Hinny, 85, 181, term of endearment, var. of honey
  • Hip, 151, var. of hop, to pass over. M.E. hyppe, Ger. hüpfen, Go. ¤huppjan, O.E. hoppian, O.N. hoppa, to hop

"Nor hip the daft and gleesome saunts
That fill Edina's seat."Ferg.

  • Hippit, 177, hip muscles strained and tired
  • Hirdsell, 24, 68, sheep stock of a hill farmer; hirsel, O.N. hizla, safe keeping; hirtha, to herd, Go. hairdeis, a herd.—N.E.D.
  • Hirplin mawkin, 97, 122, 129, hirple, to walk with a limp, run like a hare; or. unknown; spec. Sc.
"He hosts an' he hirples the weary day lang."

"Ball."

  • Hirrd, 24, herd, hairda. Go., O.E. heord, Ger. Herde
  • Hirsled, 85, moved with effort, O.N. hrista, to shake. Da. ryste, rustle—"John hirsled on his specs"
  • Hi-spy! 127
  • Hit for it, 35, 45, 197, 209. C. Du. het
  • Hive, 152, Mo. the hoof, Du. hoef, Da. hov
  • Hizzy, 137, var. of hussy, from housewife
  • Hoast, 138, 207, A.S. hwosta, Ic. hosti, imitative, C. Du. hoests
  • Hochlan, 115, var. of hobbling
  • Hoddenly, 189, Cu. continuously; app. hodd is a var. of hold
  • Hoek, 204, 210, C. Du., corner (Boer), Du. hoek, haak, corner, angle, nook, Eng. hook. The Hook of Holland
  • Hoo, 40, how
  • Hoodie or howdie craw, 64, the hooded crow
  • Hoofd, 204, C. Du. head, Ger. Haupt
  • Hool, huil, hule, helyt, 28, 62, pea-cod. Eng. hull, shell, pod or husk=what covers. Ger. Hülle, Hülse, hulls (Sart. Res.) clothes, Go. huljan, to cover. "The kind ​corn has its ain hool."—Prov. Shet. hule, husk. "My heart is out o' hule"
  • Hoolet, 251, the owl, Ger. heulen, to howl or hoot as an owl, O.F. huller, to yell. Teut. forms generally without aspirate, A.S. ùle, O.N. ugla, Lat. ulula
  • Hoosses, 25, 83, Go. hus
  • Hoo-t-ootts, 171; "not given at all in Jam." (J. B. F.)
  • Horn, 72, 131, Sc. law, proclaim bankrupt, outlaw; from horn as trumpet, v. to call
  • Hornie (Fair) Hornie, the Devil, Sc., the Horned One. See Fair Hornie
  • Horse-chestnut, 21. "Called in English horse chestnut for that the people of the East countries do with the fruit thereof cure their horses of the cough."—Gerard's "Herbal," 1597
  • Hotch, 178, hotchin
  • Hovin, 131, 147, swollen (app. to cows) with overfeeding; cf. heave, hove
  • Howe, 23, Eng. hoe, hollow, Ger. Haue, Eng. hough, Sc. howe, howk, Go. hoha, N. hol. Da. huul. Go. hul-undi. See howk
  • Howf, 224, abode, resort, C. Du. kerk-hof, Ger. Kirchhof, churchyard, C. Du. hof; "howff not given. Houff refers you back to hoiff; Hoffe, a residence" (II. 601, Jam.). (J. B. F.) "A timber hoofe to be meithed" (measured).—"Glasgow Records," 1696
  • Howk, 146, 204, 253, to hollow, N. halka, root of holl-ow with dim. formative k, Go. hul-undi, a cave, us-hulon, to hollow out, Sc. haugh. See howe
  • Hree, 83, chree, Lan. three
  • Hrukjan, 13, Go. to crow, rook, onomat.
  • Hud, hold, 73, keep
  • Huddin, 24, held
  • Hue (wee), "a wee hue maer," 138. Paisley humour was to apply the phrase to the Sheriff at the time (Mair). Both his stature and name fitted the expression. "Hue, a tasting, app. to solids or liquids."—Jam.
  • Hugan, 26, 33, Go. to think; hugs, Go. understanding. See for-hoo
  • Hugs, 19, 23, Go., Sc. haugh, Eng. holm. N.E.D., under haugh, says, "app. from O.E. halk, corner." See hoek
  • Huis heer, 207, C. Du.=Sc. hooss-maister
  • †Hulths, 27, Go. merciful; hold, Ger. gracious, O.N. hollr, A.S. hold. Go. un-hultho, unclean spirit; un-hold, sin. Klüge does not connect Ger. Held, a hero, as in the text, with Ger. hold, but finds it in A.S. haeleth, a man. See Hilda
  • Hundfaths, 15, 18, Go. hundred-lord, centurion; cf. braut-faths
  • Hunds, 250, Go. hound
  • Hunker-tottie, 129, 140, a position in sliding as a game. Or. obs. Fris. hauk, corner, home in a game. Cf. O.N. hokra, to crouch, huka, Ger. hocken, to sit on the heels, Sc. hock, the ankle joint, and E. hough; prob. akin Shet. hookers, bended knees; cf. Sc. hoch
  • Hups, 17, Go. hip, O.E. hype, Du. heup, Ger. Hüfte
  • Huird, huzd, 12, Go. hoard, treasure, O.E. hord, hidden, O.N. hodd
  • Hw-, 82, Go. and Sc. hw-, E. wh-, pre. Teut. kw-
  • Hwairpan, 14, Go. to throw, warp
  • Hwaiteis, 14, 20, 23, Go. hwaits in text, Sc. hwait, wheat
  • Hwapjan, 48, Go. to choke, var. of whopan, whoop, whopper, whooping-cough
  • Hwas, 14, 40, Go. who. Sans, kas, Sc. whaw
  • Hwaurms 14, Go. dragon. Sc. wurrm, worm. Sans. krimi, carmine, crimson
  • Hwê, 40, Go.
  • Hwi-leiks, 14, 40, Go. which, Sc. whilk
  • Hwithon, 14, Go. older form of withon, to shake, Lat. quatere
  • Hwotidedun, 14, Go. rebuked, whetted
  • Hyand, 53, hastening, Eng. hie
  • Hypothec, 86, Sc. law
  • Hyucks, 128, 146, hooks, sickles, syth-hyuck
​

I

  • I, 80, 81, thin vowel sound of; final light i is -ie
  • Ick-er, 20, ear of corn. See akran
  • Iddja, 34, Go., Sc. gaed, O.E. yode
  • Id-weitjan, 206. Go. See white (v.)
  • Ier-oe, jeroy, 63, Orc. Gael. iar after, and ogha grandchild
  • †Iets, 12, 138, 209, 215, C. Du. anything; neg. niets. Perh. cog. -with Ger. jetzt, itself obsc., but its older form ietz.—Kl.
  • I-fallé, 84, Chaucer. See ge-fallen
  • Ik, 38, 169, 197, Go. and C. Du. I. In O.E. ik and I were in use tog. till 14th c.; I alone in N. and Mid. after 1400; in S. ich remained till, in 16th c, reduced to ch, as cham, chave, chill, with auxl. verbs. See "che vor ye"
  • Ik-ei, 39, Go. I who
  • -ila, 2, Go. dim. ending
  • Ill-laits, 184, Angus; ill-aits, Fi.; ill-gait, syn. Bu.—"A thocht he wiz gain t' dee weel, bit he's back till a's ill-gaits."—Gregor
  • Ill-set, 70, 137.—Not in N.E.D.

"Ye're owre ill-set. As ye'd hae meesir ye sud mett."—"Farmer's Ha'."

  • Implemented, 72, law, made good.
  • Income, 139, an on-come, morbid affection, or tumour
  • Inconvene, 92, inconvenience, malapr.
  • Infeft, 72, Sc. law; cf. en-feoff, to invest with heritable property, a fief
  • Ingaan-ee, ingaun-ee, 180, 188; "not given, but ingaan, ingain and ingaand mouth are." (J. B. F.)
  • Ingle-lowe, 68, the fireside; prob. Gael. aingeal, fire, light.—N.E.D.
  • Inkle, 173, early form of linen tape, from Holland. Du. enkel, single is conjectured as origin.—N.E.D. Not in Jam.
  • Inlichten, en-lighten. Go. inliuhtjan
  • In, 89, as prep, in Sc.—in his offer, in life, in a present
  • Inspan, 203, C. Du. See spang.
  • In-tack, 92, a fraud, deception
  • Interlocutor, 72, Sc. law, decision
  • Inversion of the subject, 168, Sc. and Ger.
  • Iol-air, 20, Gael. iol, yellow, and air, bird. See gool and earn, erne
  • I'se quite agreeable, I'se warrant, 167, 169; archaic Sc. Cf. Du. ik is
  • I' the noo, 172, just now
  • Ither, 48, other; pl. ither for older ithere. Sc. antarin, Go. anthar, Ger. ander
  • Iver-sell, 147, Mor., var. of over-sells. See sells, sile. Not in N.E.D.

J

  • Ja, -ya, -ie, 28, dim. suff. This diminutive, so characteristic of the N.E. counties, is very rare in Elgin Kirk Records of 17th c.
  • Jag, 174, Cu. and Bord.
  • Jing-a-ring, 127. Not in Jam. or N.E.D.
  • Jink, 174, Cu. and Bord.
  • Jinka, 34, 48, Go. strife; jukan. Go. to contend. See yoke, yokin
  • Joabing, 122. Jam. job, a prickle, jobbie. "App. onomat. as sound of an abruptly arrested stab."—N.E.D. Cf. Bu. dob, a prick, Perth, drob
  • Jobbings, 94, repairs
  • Jookery-packery, 82, 85, for jookrie-pawkrie, Fi. N.E.D. doubts if jouk, conn, with duck, Sc. djuk, to bend or swerve quickly, dodge; packery, for pawkery; cf. pawky
  • Jots, jotterie, 152, Mor.—jobs. Jam. "Jotterie, odd or dirty work."—Ettrick
  • Ju, je, 56, Go. now, already, Ger. ja, A.S. jes, E. yes
  • Jugg-o, 248, Go. young, Ger. jung
  • Just noo, 172, Cu. for "i' the noo"

K

  • K, 14, 152, 178, initial, sounded k, hard, sound of. Nursery rhyme in which k is always sounded—"John Knox fell over a knowe an' cut his knee on a knife." (J. B. F.) It sounds strange to hear, in a German school, of K-nox, the Reformer ​
  • Ka, 40, Sans, who? Sc. whaw?
  • Kaapsche, 191, var. of C. Du. Taal
  • Kail-runt, 68, 123, 129, No. form of cole; Lat. caulis, cabbage; kail-stock, in same sense
  • Kaisara-gild, 34, Go. the "tribute money;" Cæsar-gold
  • Kalbo, 21, Go. calf, Sc. cauf
  • Kalds, 29, Go., Sc. cauld, cold
  • Kalpa, 40, Sans, a body, Lat. corpus
  • Kasa, 25, Go. a pot, kettle, Go. katils, Du. ketel, kessel, borr. from Lat. catillus, a food vessel
  • Kast to, of peats, 178, Cu.; in sense to throw, E. cast
  • Kaupatjan, 33, Go., prob. cog. with cuff, Sw. kufva, to subdue, cow, kuffa, to thrust
  • Kaurn, 23, Go. corn
  • Keek, 209, 210, 219, to peep, not in O.E.; Du. kijk-en; cf. teet
  • Keelie's eyrie, 122, 140, sparrow hawk's nest—from the bird's cry
  • Keelivine, 134, any coloured pencil, or. made from keel, ochreous iron-ore, ruddle; Gael. cill
  • Keep, 185, mind, look after, repair, maintain in proper order—sense archaic in Eng. "The saids bestiall not being keeped eats the petitioner's cornes."—"Glasgow Records," 1695
  • Keep nicks, 185, Cu.
  • Kempin', 64, 128, 146, Ger. Kämpfen, to strive in doing a piece of work, O.Fr. kempa, Du. kemp(e), Ger. kämpe, Eng. camp, Lat. campus, a plain. "A' the coern's no shorn be kempers."—Prov. N.E.D. Shet. kemp-rooth, a rowing match
  • Ken, kenned, kennin, a sample, 34, 70, 255, Go. kannjan, cause to know, O.E. cennan, Fr. kanna, Du. kennen, Ger. kennen. In later tongues, to know; but in Sc. it has supplanted know. "I no kan" (Berw.) for I dinna ken
  • Kenspeckle, 84, Sc. obsc. or., but, like N. kjennespak, quick at recognising things
  • Kêrel, 163, 185, 209, 218, 222, Orc. and C. Du.; cf. carle, churl
  • Kibe, 204, W. cib, a cup, "malady in shape of a cup, from swelling form."—Sk. See cob, kopje
  • Kick-up, a, 92, disturbance, wrangle
  • Kiekjies, 216, C. Du.
  • Killogie, or kiln-logie, 150, covered space in front of a kiln; Shet. fireplace of a kiln
  • Kiln-huggie, 150, Orc. For huggie, see hugs
  • Kiltheis, 248, Go. chield, child
  • Kimmin, 66, 68, 132, 140, 209, 219, Fi. bucket, coum, Eng. cuming, coomb, O.E. cumb, Ger. Kumm, a vessel, O.Teut. kumbo, a vessel. North, coom, kim, a milk can, M.E. kim(e)lin. App. rel. to O.E. camb, combe, a tub
  • Kin (kain), 151, rent paid in kind, gen. fowls; Gael, caan, the head, càin, poll-money
  • Kinch, 17, 208, C. Du. kink, twist in a rope, Ger. kink, Ic. kikna, to bend at the knees
  • Kinkhoest, 17, 207, C. Du.
  • Kirn, rantin' kirn, kirn stick, 107, 134, "uncert. or.—harvest-home or harvest supper, cutting of last handful of corn" N.E.D.—Ic. kvern, E. corn. See quern

"As bleak-faced Hallowmas returns,
They get the jovial rantin' kirns."

"Twa Dogs."

  • Kirn, 88, E. churn
  • Kisten, 74, chesting, coffining, putting into the chest or coffin.
  • Kitchen, 67, Sc. butcher-meat, any kind of food eaten with bread, &c., as a relish; "fee, dripping, the skimmings of fat meat"
  • Kittle, 74, 79, 171, spec. Sc. difficult, v.=to tickle, prob. of N. or.; O.N. kitla, to tickle, Ger. kitzeln: unknown outside Teut.
  • Kittlen, kitling, 92, 121, or. young of any animal, a kitten; "comm. only identified with O.N. ketling-t, a kitten." The loss of final g in ing quite regular in Scots.—N.E.D.
  • Klecks, 130, Ger. a spot, as of ink, a blur; in Campbeltown, a "stollm." "To gather a stolm," said of animals when with young.—Edm. See klack ​
  • Kleintjies, 207, 218, C. Du., Ger. klein
  • †Kleuz, 152, Ger. split; not a Ger. word as given in text
  • Klik, 208, C. Du. cleek, which is No. form of O.E. cleche=clutch, Sc. cluik, a claw; from latch, modif. by loss of A.S. prefix ge, seen in A.S. gelaecan
  • Klip, 204, C. Du. a crag, var. of cliff
  • Kloek, 207, C. Du. clever, Ger. klüg, Du. kloek, N. klokr; or. obsc. Cf. Sc. gleg
  • Kloof, 204, C. Du. a ravine with steep sides; var. of Du. clif, pl. cleve, O.N. klif
  • Kluit, 218, C. Du. See clüte
  • Kluitjies, 218, C. Du.
  • Knap, 67, 152, as in stane-knappin or stone-breaking, knapped; Du. and Ger. knappen, to crack, snap, bite; Bu. var. knack, to talk in a lively manner. "He thinks nae mair o' knackin aff lees nor o' pittin aff's claise an' gain till's bed."—Gregor
  • Knap or knot grass, 145, having knobs on stalk
  • Kneef, 152, C. Du., app. var. of knap, to break a thing with a sharp crack; "knapped ginger." — Shak. See knap
  • Knijp, 152, 153, 198, 222, C. Du. "kêrels in die knijp"; Ger. Kneipe, kneipen, student word, late in appearing; Du. knijp, straits, difficulties, a public-house; or. Du. knip, bird-trap. See Knopf
  • Kniu, 17, Go. knee, Ger. Knie
  • Knopf, 67, knot, Ger.; Kl. knop, A.S. cnopp, Du. knop, bud, button. Go. Ger. Knauf, ¤knaupa, A.S. ¤cnobba, M.E. knobbe, knob, M.E. knap
  • Knottie, 154, Mo. small knot or lump
  • Knowe, knoll, 81, 82, O.E. cnoll, hill-top, Du. knol, clod, ball, Ger. Knollen, N. knoll, a hillock; "rounded hill-top."—N.E.D.
  • Kod, 100, Orc. a pillow. See coddis
  • Koil-tett, 146, Mo. head-koil or cole, O.E. ted, to spread new-mown grass, Ic. tatha, hay in a homefield. Cf. Sc. tothed, manured, Ic. tath, manure, q.v.
  • Komme, 209, C. Du. See kimmin
  • Kop, 175, 202-204, C. Du. kopjie, Du. kopje, dim. of kop, head; cog. kibe (Shak.), a chilblain, any malady in shape of a cup.
  • Kraan, 207, also C. Du. a tap, cock, or fawcett
  • Krames, 205, Ger. Kram, out-spread cloth covering over a booth, the booth, its wares. Specially Du., spread through trade, Ic. kram. In Du. also means child-bed, hence C. Du. kraam-bezuk, Ger. Besuch, a visit
  • †Krug, 198, A.S. cróg, croh, crúce, M.E. crouke, Du. kruik, kroeg, a drink-shop, Ic. krukka, pot, or. Celt. The name Krüger does not necessarily imply a Ger. origin as in the text
  • Kudda, kod, 100. See teva-kudda, and cod, a bag
  • Kuni, 255, Go. kin, kindred, kind
  • Kyard, 154, Gael, caird, a gipsy, tinker. See carid
  • Kynockel, 152, Mo. knuckle, A.S. cnucel, M.E. knokil, Du. knokkel, Ger. Knöchel; dim. of Du. knok, Ger. Knochen, a bone
  • Kyob, kyobie, 152, Mo. for gaebie, a bird's crop. See gaebie

L

  • L, sound, 80
  • Laager, 121, C. Du., Du. leger, camp; cog. lair, Ger. Lager, Go. ligr-s, a couch, from ligan, to lie
  • Laal, 39, 171, 178, 181, Cu., var. of little, also lile. Not in N.E.D.
  • Labour, 94, to till
  • Labrod, 105, for lap-board, used to cut out work upon (by tailors)
  • Lach, 13, laugh, hlahjan, Go.
  • Laerrok, 71, 126, lark, A.S. láwerce, láferce, Ic. laevirki, Du. leeuwerik; lit. laew-werca, guile-worker, regarded as of ill-omen
  • Laggan, 204, Gael, in place names; cog. with Sc. laich, loch
  • Laidlick, 129, Bu. North var. of loathly, repulsive, "laithly beast"; for-laithie, disgust. "He took a for-laithie at it." Cf. ill-laits, ill-aits, bad habits, q.v. ​
  • Laif, 23, 26, loaf, Go. hlaiba, A.S hláf, Ger. Laib, Go. ga-hlaiba, messmates
  • †Laik, 30, 56, O.E. lác, warlike activity O.N. laik-r, to play. Go. laik-s, (lance, laikan, to leap for joy. "E. lark, a frolicsome adventure, v. and sub., first 1811-13; or. somewhat uncertain."—N.E.D.
  • Lair, 27, lore. Go. laisjan, to make to know, its pret. as a pres. is lais=know, from which Go. leis=expert, lubja-leis=witchcraft, Ger. lehren, to make to know
  • Lairdet, 145, 200, v. lair to sink in mire, mire or bog; subst. lair, clay, cog. with lime, loam; Shet. leir, clay, mud
  • Laisareis, 27, Go. the Scribes, Rabbis
  • Laisnan, 38, Go. to be taught. See lair, lore
  • Laithly, 129; laith, unwilling
  • Laitin, 184, Cu. custom
  • Lall-wörter, 247, prattle words
  • Lamming, 172, a beating; to lam, break, beat soundly, O.N. lemja, past of v. to lame; cog. lame, not Sc.; Bu. form is lummer, to beat smartly, "A lummer on at ma laddie to pay attention till's lessons."—Gregor; Fi. loonder, "To gie 'm a loonderin."
  • Land, 23, Go., Sc. laund
  • Lang-nebbit, 89; lit. long-nosed, said of big words
  • Lap, 62, leapt
  • Lapper, 133, 151. Not in N.E.D. Jam. to cover so as to clot. Lappered, coagulated, Ic. hlaup, a clot; lapper, a clot of blood—Edm.—still in common use. Cf. "lapiser't-milk"; Gael, clabar, mud; clabar bainne, clotted milk
  • Lapper, 53, from lap, to fold, O.E. wlap, cf. lappel, lappet; Bu. to coagulate. "The thunner hiz lappert the milk."—Gregor
  • Lapstane, 134, shoemaker's stone, held on the lap; from lap, a fold, an apron, or part covered by it. Not in Jam.
  • Late, kit, layt, 184, Gu. N.E.D. has lait, to seek, try to find; O.N. leita=O.E. wlatian, Go. wlaiton, to behold, look round about, whence Go. wlits, the face. Go. lathon, to call, invite is not mentioned in this connection, as it is in the text (p. 184). See andawleizns, and wleiz
  • Late, 28, slow, tardy. Go. lats, lazy or late, or. meaning; Du. laat, O.N. lat-r—form of let; Go. lêtan—primarily to let go through weariness; F. laisser, Lat. lassus
  • Lauchin', 69
  • Lauf-s, 12, pl. laub-os, Go. leaf, Sc. levis (pl), O.Fr. lâf, Du. loof, Ger. Laub
  • Lave of the brock, 29, spec. Sc., Go. laibos gabruko, Go. laiba, Fr. láva, Eng. leave, what is left over
  • †Lawd, lawdie, 18, 19, lad, boy. Cf. Go. jugga-lauths, a young man. "Quite inadmissible, both on ground of phonology and meaning, is current statement that lad is cognate with this. Go. lauths, of obsc. or."—N.E.D.
  • Lay, 163, Kinc., Ger. Lade, box, chest, O.N. hlatha, shed, M.E. lathe, E. lathe
  • Lays, 76, E. for lies
  • †Lead, 27, 48, 182, Eng to conduct, O.E. laedan, Du. leiden, Ger. leiten; "wanting in Go.," says N.E.D., as given in the text, p. 27. Var. of leithan, to lead, has many derivatives
  • Learn, 38, 87, 88, teach, Eng., or. obsc. in this sense, Ger. lehren, lernen, to be taught
  • Lease, 48, 219, Eng. to glean. Go. lisan, to gather, Ger. lesen, to gather, read; cog. learn, lore, Sc. lair, C. Du. les, lees
  • Leech, 27, N.E.D. "commonly regarded as a trans. use of leech, physician, but prob. originally distinct." Go. lêkeis, a healer, N. läka, to heal. Go. lekinon, to heal
  • Leek-strae, 154, Orc. from leek (lich), a corpse
  • Leem, 198, and C. Du., common in Teut.; cog. with Lat. limus, E. lime; Bu. a broken piece of crockery
  • Leiks, 17, 40, Go. body; lyk, lykwake, leek, leek-strae, 154 ​
  • Lein, 26, 258, Go. linen, lint, Sc. flax plant, Eng. linen, Go. lein, also Eng. *line, Lat. linum, flax
  • Len, 69, n. and v. lend, loan
  • Lered, 38, O.E. learned, Sc. lair, Eng. lore. See lais, lore
  • Lethir, 13, 15, ladder, Go. hlethra in hleithra-stakins (stakes), tabernacles; letherin, Fi., ledderin, Shet., a severe drubbing
  • "Let on," 69, 88, to betray a fact by word or look: in N.E.D. under Eng. let, O.E. laetan, Du. latan, Ger. lassen. Go. lêtan
  • Lettern, 73, precentor's desk, lectern
  • Lewed, 4, lewd, illiterate, lered and lewed=clergy and laity
  • Lib, 148, to castrate, Du. lubben, to maim

"Lib ye o' yere German gear."

"Old Song."

  • Libel, 72, 84, Sc. law, indictment
  • Libelled, 72, for labelled
  • Licentiate, 75
  • Lich-gate, 17, Eng. O.E. líc, a body, corpse (later sense), O.N. lik, Go. leih. See leiks, leek-strae, lyke-wake
  • Licht, 12, Eng. light, O.E. léoht, Ger. licht, Go. liuhath, inliuhtjan=en-lichten enlighten
  • Licht, 12, not heavy. Go. leihts
  • Lids, 207, C. Du. le'e, Du. leden. See lith
  • Lidy, 79, 84
  • Liftin' (at the), 69
  • Likdoorns, 210, C. Du. body-thorns=corns. See leiks, lyke-wake
  • Like, 90. Not in N.E.D. in this sense
  • Like, 35, 40, 76, Eng., as conj.
  • Like, 40, 90, as adv., still heard in Ger.
  • Likely, 68, 169, seemly, good Sc.; but N.E.D. says only "U.S. dialect," as verb, to lay to one's charge, "A wid a' niv'er tean't inta ma heid to hae likliet it till him."—Gregor
  • Lily-oak, 121. N.E.D. laylock, obsc. and dial, form of lilac
  • Limb of Sawtan, 137
  • Limmer, 85, 137, a hussy; "obsc. or., conn, with limb, possible."—N.E.D.
  • Linens, 15, 94, underclothing
  • Lippen, 151, obsc. or., prob. cog. with Go. laub-jan, to trust, Ger. glauben, to believe
  • Liquids (consonants), 82, 84, 111, effect on vowels
  • Lisk, 172, the groin, O.E. leske. Da. lyske
  • Lith, 27, 207, spec. Sc. a limb; O.Er. lith, Du. lid, Go. lithus, a limb, with pref. ge Ger. g-lied. Klüge says glied can hardly be from leiden, leiten, to go, as it is not confined to the "foot." He connects with limb through O.N. lim-r, limb, branch. See lids.
  • Lithan, 48, A.S. to lead, to travel, go by water, laedan, to cause to go, i.e. conduct, all from base, lith, to go, as in Go. ga-leithan; A.S. lith-ulé, joint-oil
  • Liths of an orange, 156, sections of; not in N.E.D. in this sense
  • †Little, 29, Eng. a synonymous and phonetically similar adj., ¤litilo, as found in Go. leitils, is radically unconnected
  • Little booket, 69, of small bulk
  • Liuthâreis, 27, singers, liuthon, to sing. Go.; Du. and Ger. lied, A.S. lèoth, Go. ¤liuth
  • †Loafer, 17, Eng., obsc. or.; not conn, with Ger. laufen.—N.E.D.
  • Loaning, 200, 206, var. of loan, lane
  • Loehans, 119, small lochs
  • Lock, 181, in sense of "a lot."
  • Lodd, lade, 48, load. Go. hlathan, A.S. hladan, Du. laden
  • Long-settle, 180, Cu.
  • Loo, 67, 139, 211, tepid; not in N.E.D.
  • Loof, loofie, 17, 135, A.S. lôf, palm, Ic. lófi, Gael. lamh, whence lamh-ainn, a glove. Go. lofa, O.H.G. Laffa, blade of an oar
  • Loon, 1, 137, obsc. or., loon-lookin' dog
  • Loot, 32, to bend down, stoop, O.E. lutan. O.N. lúta. Go. liuta, a hypocrite. Not in N.E.D.
  • Losh, 33, 86, 98; loshtie, exclamation, corr. of Lord
  • Lost myself, 88 ​
  • Lot, 211, var. of lock, a quantity. See lucken
  • Loupin-on-Stane, 201
  • Lovenanty! 170, Lan.
  • Lowe, 135, O.N. loge, Ger. Lohe, a flame; cog. Lat. lux, light
  • Lowp, lowpin', 17, 33, 216, Go. hlaupan, to leap up, A.S. hleapan, to run, Ger. laufen, Du. loopen, E. leap
  • Lowss, 13, Eng. loose, Go. laus, empty, vain, O.E. liesan, Du. loozen, Ger. lösen, Go. lausjan, to loosen, fra-lius-an; also in suff. los, less. Leasing, lying, is cog.
  • Lozen, 139, lozenge as a window-pane
  • Lucken, 181, 211, past part. of louk, lock. Go. ga-lukan, to close, us-lûkan, to open, O.N. lúka, cog. lock; Du. luiken, to close; Shet. to clutch; Ic. luka, locket, seized hold of.—Edm.; hence, Lucken booths, Lucken-gowan
  • Lucy-awrnits, 123, "corr. of earth-nut; lousy arnut, tall oat-grass or pig-nut."—Jam.
  • Luff, 207, C. Du.; in Sc. loof, which see
  • Lugs, 79, ears, obsc. or.—superseded in Sc. by the older "ear"
  • Lui, 194, C. Du. sluggish, same as lag, lag-gard, with elision of guttural
  • Lum, 171, 209, Celt or. lit. "what projects"
  • Lum-cleek, 208, C. Du. chimney hook -ly, 40, Eng. suffix
  • Lyft, 23, spec. Sc. O.E. lyft, Ger. Luft, the sky, Go. luftus
  • Lyke-wake, 17, 154, Ir. watch over a lich, leik, a dead body. See leiks. "The neighbour women used to come in and sit by the corpse in twos or threes all night."—Prof. Cooper

M

  • M, 38, old dat. case; old customs in Moray
  • Maak, 196, C. Du. and Sc. it is preferred to "do," Ger. machen
  • Mael, 51, A.S. mark, token, meal at stated time. Go. mel, time, season
  • Maich, maik, make, 19, Barb., O.E. ge-maec, equal, Ger. ge-mach, easy, comfortable—prim, sense "fit, suitable."— N.E.D.
  • Maiden, The, 154, in Harvest Home. See clyack and kirn
  • Maiden, 2, 19, a girl, O.E. maegden. Go. magaths. Ger. Magd and Mädchen are not identical with the Go.; has many forms in Go., as magus, lad, magula, lass, magathei, maidenhood, mawi, mawilo
  • Mail, 23, rent, A.S. methel, market, O.N. mail speech, O.H.G. Mahal, assembly, O.E. maethel, discussion, mele, to speak, Go. mathl, market or meeting place. Go. faura-mathleis, chief speaker=fore-meler; M.E. mele, to speak
  • Mail, 28, speck, spot; Klüge says, conn, with Go. mail, spot, uncertain, though sense is parallel: cog. A.S. mál, mole (on the skin). Ident. is mal, a "point" of time in ein-mal. Sc. eirn-mail is iron-mould or stain on linen
  • Mairch, 22, border, boundary between properties, O.E. mearc, Du. and Ger. Mark, Go. marka, boundary, landmark
  • Mailins, 146, a farm, as paying mail or rent in money. See mail

"Shore (threatened) to raise our mailins."

"Gentle Shepherd."

  • Maill, 24, 253, Eng. meal. Go. malan, to grind in the mill
  • Makkars, 98, 99, 102, makers=poets; Cf. Gr. ποιητής
  • †Man, 11, 16, 79, 248, Go. manna, as an indef. pron, Ger. man; in compounds, -mana. N.E.D. throws doubt on the usual reference of the root to an Ind.-Ger. verb, to think, "though no plausible alternative explanation has been suggested"
  • Man o' bizzness, 72
  • Manage, 94, to get through with
  • Manding, 75, memorising, Lat. mandare as in mandate. Not in Jam. or N.E.D.
  • Mant, 105, tp stutter, Ga. and Ir. manntach, toothless, stammering, M.Ir. mant, the gum ​
  • Mappies, 123, rabbits, imit. of nibbling action of lips. Not in N.E.D.
  • Mareschal, 56, 63, 64, Eng.; O.F. mareschal, F. maréchal, Ger. Marschalks, lit. horse-servant
  • Marm, 82, var. of madam
  • Marra, 171, a companion, a match, as marra-less stockings, not a pair; Bu. marie, to variegate. Not in N.E.D.

"Whaur gat ye that winsome marrow?"

  • Mathl, 23, Go. market-place; v. mathljan. See meljan and mail
  • Mati-balg, 26, Go. a meat-bag=wallet
  • Mauchie, 24, fulsome. Jam. moch, mochy; or. a heap (moist and rotting), moich, tainted meat; syn. humphy, Bu., to sniff as if at a fetid odour. "He's gey ill tae please wi's meat; for, fin gueede cabbitch wiz setten doon till 'm, he humpht at thim. A gae 'm naething else, an' he hid t' tak' a dish o' wint till's supper."—Gregor. See maihstus and mixen
  • Maurthra, 13, Go. murder
  • Mawkin, 129, the hare, for malkin, mollykin
  • Mazle, mayzlin, mayzy, 172, Cu.
  • Meal-ark, 24, meal-chest (Lat. area)
  • Meal-bowie, 163, small cask for holding meal, any small barrel—
"The bowie briskly reams" (froths).

Ferg.

  • Meal girnel, 155, garner or granary
  • Meal's meat, 169
  • Mebbes, 152, 169, may be it is
  • Medial, 194, guttural elided in Taal
  • Meedge, 140. No. meed, Da. mede. I heard it as a boy when boating with an old fisherman. In steering he took two points a-head, what he called a "meedge," and kept them in line. Jam. has meith, meeth, meth, Ic. mide, a mark, mida, to mark a place. See mett
  • Meerder, 209, 219, 221, C. D. maar, Sc. mair, and="but" cf. F. mais
  • Meerie, 223, C. Du. a little mare
  • Meisjie, 205, C. Du.
  • Mel, 51, Go. time. See mail, a speck, meljan
  • Mele, 23, O.E. to speak, O.N. maéla, mail speech. See mail, rent
  • Meljan, 51, Go. to be inscribed, mel, time. Ger. ein-mal, Eng. a meal; as mel originally denotes a fixed point, ana-meljan means to inscribe, mark with a note
  • Mena, 23, Go. moon
  • Mênoths, 254, Go. month, Ger. Monat
  • Menownys, mennons, 62, minnons. See base in mins.
  • Menshless, 87, without mense, good manners, discretion, Ic. mennska, humanity, mann-r, man, Ger. Mensch
  • Mention, 88
  • Mere, 19, the sea, Du. meer, Ger. Meer, Go. mari in mari-saiws, the sea; "conn, with Ind.-Ger. root, mer, to die, as the 'lifeless' one, is very doubtful."— N.E.D.
  • Merrie-my-tanzie, 127
  • Messer, 31, Ger. a knife, maz-sahs, meat knife. Go. mats, A.S. mete, E. meat, A.S. mete-seax. Go. mitan
  • Methinks, 35, Eng.
  • Mett, 69, 71, to measure, O.E. metan. O.Fr. meta, Du. meten, Ger. messen, Go. mitan. See meedge
  • Michaelmas moon, 240
  • Mikilins thiudanis, 13, 22, 32, 38, Go. the great king, Sc. muckle; mikilnan. Go. to be enlarged, O.E. micel, O.N. mykell, Go. mikil
  • Milk, 32, O.Fr. melok, Du. melk (pron. melek). Go. miluks
  • Mim-mou'd, mimp, 151, Cu. to talk mincingly; cf. mum, mim; prudish, reserved in discourse—

"A bit butt an' a bit ben
Maks a mim maid at the board en'."

Prov.

  • Mind, mundon, 34, Go. to observe. N.E.D. under mind notes these forms.—Go. gamunds, memory, gaminthi, memory, gamunan, to think, remember ​
  • Mink, 130, 148, Mo. a noose or headstall for a horse, monk in Fife, minkan-up, coiling a rope in the hand, mink up the coo's tether, a rinnin-mink=a slip-knot; Gael, muince, a collar, muin, the neck, the back
  • †Mins, miniza, minists, 29, Go. N.E.D. does not connect mince with mins, which it traces to O.E. mincier. Mod. Fr. mincer, Lat. minutiare, but this last, cog. with Lat. minus, less, which is conn. with Go.
  • Mint-cake, 185, Cu.
  • Mischiévous, 84, Eliz., "stress on mid-syll. literary form till 1700, now dial. and vulgar."—N.E.D.
  • Mise, 211, C. Du., prob. a var. of miser; cf. Sc. misert-pig, which see
  • Misert-pig, Fi. syn. of pirlie-pig. See pig
  • Mishanter, 92
  • Mis-leared, 70, 136, badly brought up, mis-lered. See lair
  • Mixen, 24, Eng. a dunghill, parallel stem in Go. maihstus. N.E.D. midden of Scand. or. from muck and dynge, thing or stuff. Da. a heap. From Go. comes, O.E. meox, filth, Fr. minks, and Sc. mauchie, q.v.
  • Modags, 28, Go. angry, moody; cog. O.E. módig, Du. moedig, Ger. mutig, all in old sense of brave, high-spirited
  • Modernised C. Du., 197
  • Monk, 130, 140, 148, Fi. a head stall. See mink
  • Monosy. prets., 36
  • Mony, 29, 53, 63, 84, Eng. many, O.E. manig, Du. menig, Ger. manch. Go. manag-s, many and managei, a multitude; O.E. and Ger. menge—"Robin Hood and his merry menyie"
  • Mooi, 222, C. Du.; Lat. mollis soft
  • Moolins, 29, 123, crumbs, mool, to crumble (bread), var. of mould
  • Mools, for muldes, 29, 74, the earth of the grave, burial, A.S. mold, dust, Go. mulda, muldeins, earthy; dial. var. of mould; moolie or mooly "not given at III. 305, Jam., soft, flabby, fozy. A moolie sort o' a chap=a duffer. The marbles, called commies as of common clay, sometimes known as moolies, if soft and ill-shaped. Mulie cheese is crumbling, friable." (J. B. F.)
  • Mooss-fa, 124, 251, Ic. mus-föll, mûs, A.S.
  • Mota, 23, Go. receipt of custom, mote, O.E. a village council, moot-hill; motareis. Go. a publican. N.E.D. gives M.E. mot, imot under moot, a public assembly, but offers no Go. connection
  • "Mournings," 84, 94, in Sc. only in plural in sense of mourning dress
  • Mozies, 172. Jam. "a being with silly intellect, Gael, muiseag, threatening;" var. mwozie, Cu.
  • Muckle, mikils, 29, 38, Go. See mikilnan
  • Mull, 74, snuff box, var. of mill
  • Multiple-poinding, 72, Sc. law=action raised by holder of a fund to which there are several claimants
  • Mun or maan, 103, must, used as auxiliary of the fut.=shall, will; or. sense "to intend," cog. with mind, to remember
  • Munan, 26, Go. to think, O.N. muna, to remember, identical with munu, to intend, O.E. munan, to think, consider. Go. muns, mind
  • Müne, 23, 81, moon. Go. mêna, men-oths, a month
  • Munths, 17, Go. Sc. mouth, mou, mouth, Du. moud, Ger. Mund, Fr. mûth, cog. Lat. mentum, the chin
  • Mussel-picker, 119, oyster-catcher
  • Mussel scaups, 119, scaup, form of scaup, bed of shell-fish from the thinness of the layer
  • My, 94, an emphatic—my dennir
  • Myn-pachts, 211, C. Du.
  • My san! My certe, 33, Exclamation equal to my certe, Eng. sooth. "In Jam. has to be looked for under certy." (J. B. F.) ​

N

  • Naaste pad, 195, C. Du. neist, nighest path
  • Nae, 90, no. Go. na. Sans. na. N.E.D. "Ne, obsol., is nea, North and Sc. Na, giving in Sc. nā, seems rather to be an alteration of ne than a genuine survival of the old form"
  • Nap, 198, drinking cup, O.E., hnaep, Du. nap, Ger. Napf, obsc., O.H.G. hnap is O.F. hanap (see nappie). It. nappo, perh. borr. from Tent.
  • Nap, 153, nip, pretended blow, spec. in "to give or take the nap"—knap, prob. var. of knap as subst., q.v.
  • Nashince, 154, var. of nuisance, Bu.
  • †Nasjands, 52, Go. the Saviour, Ger. ge-nieszen in text, but Klüge conn. ge-nieszen, to enjoy, with Go. niutan, to obtain, Ger. nützen, nützlich, useful, from an or. sense, to adapt to one's use, to use; cog. neat, nowt=cattle
  • Near, 69, 137, stingy
  • Nearder, 111, 167, 195, Cu.; C. Du. nar(d)er; Sc. nawrer
  • Neb, 125, bird's beak, N. näf, Du. nebbe, O.E. nebb
  • Necessar, 73, 92, var. of necessary
  • †Neck, 160, 204, Du.; Ger. Nacken, Du. nek, summit of a hill pass. N.E.D. does not conn. with nick, notch
  • Needle, nethla, 26, Go.
  • Neef, 207, C. Du. knave, Ger. Knabe, Gael, cnapach, stout, knobby, in sense of well-grown
  • Neem, 209, C. Du. See Nim
  • Neeper, 74, 163, 195, neighbour, C. Du. and Sc. neebor; Bu. "Fah's yir neiper in the chop noo?"—Companion, bed-fellow—"She's awa noo, 'an for fifty years she's been a gweede neiper t' me."—Gregor
  • Neepyin, 174, napkin, syn. hankie
  • Neest, 195, ni(gh)est
  • Neet, 175, Cu. night, Sc. nicht
  • Negative qualities, 87, Sc. and Eng. for.
  • Nein, 90, Ger.=nicht eines, Eng. "no" is A.S. ná, O.N. nei, Go. nê ni, Gr. νη, Lat. ne, in ne-fas
  • Neither hup nor hie, 189, Bord.
  • Neive, 17, fist, neif, pl. neiffis
  • Neive-fou, 85, 138, 211, handful, M.E. neve, O.N. hneff cf. (Go. hamf-s, one-handed, 17 q.v.)
  • "Neivvi-neivvi-nik-nak," 128. See neive
  • Nek, 204, C. Du. See neck, neuk
  • Ner, 168, Cu. nor after compar.
  • Ner's pitten, 168, Cu.="nor" (than) "is put"
  • Neuk, nook, 134, "obsc. but North."—N.E.D.
  • Neukit, 88, in four-neukit. The common adjectival termin. here is seen in nakkit, naked, where Go. has nakwadis (a genit. case), a part. derivative form ¤nakw, naked. Klüge infers from these ancient forms that the primitive Teutons distinguished between clothed and unclothed
  • Neuter of demonstratives, 38
  • Newt, 148, 149, var. of evet, eft, O.E. efeta; of unknown or.
  • Neyfs, 64, M.E. serfs, Lat. nativi
  • Nibby stick, 174, Bord., with a crook
  • Nicht, 12, 24, 254, night. Go. naht-s, Go. nahta-mats, supper
  • Nicht, 207, C. Du. niece, gutt. out of dent., cf. queecht=quite. Go. nithjo.
  • Nick, 160, notch, "obsc. but earlier than corr. verb notch, which is app. conn. with O.F. oche, F. hoche."—N.E.D. See neck
  • Nickit baiks, 186, Fi. biscuits notched on edge
  • Nicks, 185, Cu. nicked, nixes
  • Niffering, 130, 187, bartering, "Sc. and North, obsc. perh. from neive."—N.E.D.
  • Nim, 31, 209, Go. niman, to take, A.S. niman, O.N. nema, νέμος, a grove, Lat. nemus, Ger. nehmen, E. nimble, numb (past part, of nim), C. Du. neem
  • Nip, 151, 153, "take a nip of one."—Bu. See nap
  • Nirled catkins, 123, var. of gnarled
  • Nirls, 138, measles; or. obsc.
  • Niu-klahs, 32, Go. new klekkit=new-born ​
  • Nocht, 12, 63, 138, 209, nought, O.E. nówiht=ne+a'wiht, A.S. na-wiht. nauht, Go. ne+waiht-s, Du. niet, E. not, Sc. nochtie, paltry
  • Non-plush, 84, var. of non-plus. Not in Jam.
  • Noo (the), 90, just now, Du. nu, Go. nu, as "tho nu hweila," the noo while, or time
  • Noos and thans, 167, now and then
  • Nor, 90, for than. N.E.D. "Sc. and dial. of obsc. or."
  • Nose o' wax, 136, 140, a numskull. Not in Jam.
  • Notour, 72, Sc. law, bankrupt, notorious
  • Nowt, 82, 153, nolt (by a false analogy), O.N. naut, O.E. neat, or. sense, to enjoy or possess. N.E.D. has "nait, Sc, good at need," as v. "to make use of,"—from Go. niutan, O.E. néotan, to enjoy

O

  • O, vowel, name sound of, 81
  • O, vowel, long sound of, 80
  • †Ocht, 209. See aacht, iets
  • 'Ods wuns, 173, Cu. an oath; cf. "loot a wince," Burns. Both may be a corruption of "(God's) wounds"
  • Oena, 153, an old Sc. prep.=without; generally as a prefix, and syn. with affix, -less; v. common in Go. as un, e.g. un-agands, fearless, Ger. ohne, Gr. ἄνευ, preserve the prep. use
  • Of, 219, C. Du. for conj. or
  • Ogan, 30, 51, Go. to dread, ogjan, to cause to fear, agis, awe; cf. ug-some and ug-ly, Ic. ugg-r, fear. See agis, awe, ug
  • Ogha, 63, Gael, grandchild, -oy
  • †Ogre, 30, not conn. with Go. agan, to dread, but with Lat. orcus, a late borrowing from F. and It.—Skeat
  • Ogre, Oagar-hiuuse, Orc., 154. If, as Skeat says, ogre is F. and a late borrowing, it can hardly be "oagar," here. More likely this is from Ic. ugg-r, fear, and cog. with ugly, ug-some
  • Oheim, oom, 247. See eem, eyme
  • Oksel, 207, C. Du. oxter, Sc.
  • Omniefeeshent, 122
  • On, 89, prep., e.g. "married on"
  • Onbonny, 90, 140, on=without, Ger. ohne, A.S. un and bonny
  • Oncanny, 90, on=without, Ger. ohne, A.S. un=
  • Oncast, 92, cast on, term in stocking-knitting
  • Once-t, 35, once, also aince, yince
  • Oncost, 92, initial charges in running a mine, &c.
  • Onding, 153; cf. ding on; ding, prob. onomat.
  • Onneat, 90, on=without, Ger. ohne, A.S. un
  • On-weiss, un-wîse. Go. un-weis=without wis-dom
  • Oogst, oest, 199, C. Du. August, in S. Afr. autumn, harvest
  • Oo'ies, 194 C. Du.
  • Oon, 24, oven, Go. auhn, Arthur's oon or hove, near Falkirk, built of hewn stone, without mortar, long ago destroyed utterly
  • Oot, out, prep. e.g. "oot (o') the hoos," "oot amon' thae neeps"
  • Ootliggers, out-liers, 173, Cu.
  • Ootners, 170, Cu. out-landers
  • Oot-weel, 171, Cu. for wale oot
  • Op-sit, 218, C. Du. Cu. "sittin up," W. "bundling"; Sc. up-set, feast on admission to burgess freedom
  • Orātor, 80, Eng.
  • Ordinar, 92, ordinary
  • Orpiet, 248. See arbi, erd, yirp
  • Orra-man, 66, farm hand for odd jobs, orrie, unmatched, spare, syn. marra-less; prob. from A.S. orrawa, Go. us, out and row or series. In Jam. nine meanings are given (Jam. III. 401), but none exactly applicable to Scott's lines:—

"Donald Caird finds orra things,
Whaur Allan Gregor fand the tings."

J. B. F.

  • Othal, 10, Rune-letter, heirloom. Orc. udal, tenant right, udaller, landowner
  • Ou, oude, 207, C. Du. old, as familiar form of address
  • Ou (die), ouwe, or oudeman, 191, 192, C. Du.
  • Ouk, oulk, 153, a week; cf. ouf-dag, the wolf-dog. Same as week. ​Ouk is a very old and widely prevalent form in Sc.; now only Aber.; Go. wiko, Ger. Woche, wouke in Chaucer, and uge=vuge in Da. "Pasche olk; olkis, olkly," St. And. K. S. R.
  • Outliers, oot-lers, (Burns), 62, 173
  • Outspans, 203, C. Du. See spang
  • Over-sell or Iver-sell, 147, Mo. See sell, sells and thrammels
  • Over-wiseness (Eliz.), 84
  • †Own, 38 (rhymes with down), to own, possess, A.S. agn-ian, to own, Go. aigin, possessions, aigan, to possess, pret. aihta. See aacht
  • Owre blate, 137, over modest
  • Owsen, 23, var. of oxen, Ger. Ochsen, Go. auhsa- Sans, ukshan, a bull. See ox

"When owsen frae the furrow free
Return sae dowf an' weary—O."

"Ball."

  • †Ox, 250=the carrier. Skeat derives from Sans. uksh, to sprinkle, not from veho, as in the text, and "therefore is ult. cog. with humid." Kl. says, "Or. from Sans. ukshan, ox, root uks, to sprinkle, or uks, to grow strong, and a masc. form of vacca, cow." Sans. uhsan, page 17, is misprint for ukshan, a bull
  • Oxter, 17, 207, armpit. Go. ams-a for ahsl-a, Ger. Achsel, tbe shoulder, under which word Kl. says: "Go. ¤ahsla for I.-Ger. aksla, Lat. axilla and ala, Du. oksel"
  • -Oy, -oe, 63, grandchild, Gael. ogha
  • Oylé, 211, Lat. oleum, Sc. ile. In early use, but, as in Go. alew, olive oil=ἔλαιον, is borrowed from the Greek
  • Oyster-catcher, or mussel-picker, 119

P

  • Paard, 201, C. Du., Ger. Pferd, a horse
  • Pachter, 212, Kl. "Ger. Pacht, under L. Ger. influence, as Du. pacht is derived from Lat. pactus, a bargain struck;" cf. Sc. paction
  • Pad, 209, C. Du. path
  • Paecan, 71, M.E.; cf. Gael. bocan, a spectre
  • Paeg, 70, Da.
  • Paidlin, 169, paddling
  • Paiks, 137, 179, a drubbing, or. uncert.; Jam. conn. with Ger. pauken, to beat a drum
  • Pains, 139, ague, rheumatism
  • Paith, 118, 120, path, Ger. Pfad. See pad
  • Palall, 127, syn. beds, a sort of shovel-board game with the feet; cf. pall-mall. "Pal-lall, surely the common name peever should have been given here. The game is pal-lall, the piece of stone, slate, &c. is the peever." (J. B. F.). See peevor.
  • Pandies, 135, 155, syn. pawmies, Lat. pande palmam, extend the palm
  • Pannsl, 72, Sc. law, the accused
  • Partan's-taes, 123, crab's toes, Celt. or.
  • Particles with verb (Scots), as in Ger., 92
  • Pash, 15, 227, Go. paska, Easter (Gr.)
  • Passive inflection, 38
  • Past participle in -ed., 88
  • Pat, puttit, 88
  • Pattle, 160, stick to clear away before the plough. Paddle, "a farmer wi' a hand that never held pleugh stilt or pattle, that'll never do."—Scott
  • Pawkiness, 69
  • Pawky, 179, sly, artful; paik, a trick, v. to deceive

"A thief sae pawkie is my Jean,
She'll steal a glance by all unseen."

Burns.

  • Pawn, Pawnd, 155, vallance round a bed; Lat. pendo
  • Pea-jacket, paida, 19, 206, Go. a coat of skins. "In Du. pij (pron. pie), and L.Ger. a woollen jacket. Go. paida translates χιτόν, a coat; conn. is βαίτη."—Sk.
  • Peasie, 148, pease! as a cry to pigeons. In Fi. Pud-pud!
  • Pech, 122, to draw a deep breath—echoic
  • Pecht, pechs, elves, 71, 132, sometimes identified with the aboriginal Picts
  • Peeack, peck, 150, to speak with a small voice, pee-akin
  • Peeay, 70, Forf. Jam. "peeoy, pioye, a little moistened gunpowder formed into a pyramidal ​shape and kindled at the top," still used in Forf., var. poother deil
  • Peel-wersh, -welsh, 150, sickly in appearance, peel=peerie, small, thin and wersh, insipid
  • Peeler, 140, crab when changing its shell
  • Peelie-wally, 150, syn. peel-wersh
  • Peen, preen, 81, 93, a pin, Gael. prine, A.S. preon, Ger. Pfriem, an awl, Ic. prioun, Ic. prjoun, a needle

"I'd locked my heart in a case of gowd,
An' preened it wi' a siller preen.

"Ball."

  • Peer, peerie, 127, 132, 133, 155, Orc. little—"A peerie, byauch, small child or a puny calf," Orc.—Jam.
  • Peerie or peerlie-winkie, 136, 150, the little finger, N. peerie, small; syn. croonie-doodlie, pirlié-winkle, pinkie; "not given in Jam. An' wee croonie-doodlie pays for a'." (J. B. F.). See crine
  • Pees-weet, 125, 156, peesweip, peeweip; echoic word, sometimes given as Sc-Fr. from "dix-huit!" the bird's cry
  • Pell, 71, Fi. very salt. Jam. "as bitter's pell, as salt's pell." See fill
  • Pennies each, 85, 94, 167, idiom
  • Pennart, 140
  • Penny, 67, in proverb
  • Penny whaup, 132, var. of whip, weakest kind of small beer
  • Perjink, 136, finical, particular
  • Phillybags, 178, Cu.
  • Pickeln, 71, to play the fool; pickle, in a sorry plight; Du. pekel, "pekelen," Ger. Pökel, brine, pökeln
  • Pieg, 70, Orc., var. of pug, a form of puck, an imp
  • Pig, 92, an earthen vessel. Gael. pigadh, pigeadh, piggin; history obsc.
  • Pillow-cod, 58, pillow slip. See cod
  • Pioo, 70, Orc. small quantity. See peeay
  • Pirlie-pig, 130, earthenware vessel for keeping money; var. of peerie, small, and pig, a pot. See pig and misert-pig. Not in N.E.D.
  • Place, 212, C. Du., Ger. Platz, Lat. platea. Go. platijo, street-corner, a borr. word
  • Playfares, 127, companions
  • Play yersels, 169, Fi. give yourselves play-time
  • Pley, 72, a quarrel, plea
  • Pliskie, 139, a mischievous trick. N.E.D. "or. unknown"

"Pretty pliskies you've been at the day."

Stevenson, "Wrong Box."

  • Ploat, 66, 67, 116, 130, 133, to scald, soak; app. var. of plout, plouter, to splash
  • Plooms, 163, plums
  • Ploy, 171, a social frolic, A.S. plegan, to play. N.E.D. "of uncert. or."
  • Plunk, 122, to play truant, Du. plencken, to straggle, wander. N.E.D. "or. obsc."
  • Plural, 94, in distributive sense
  • Plural present in verb, 168, in s
  • Poalie-finger, 66, Fi. a lame finger. Jam. "paulie, feeble, lame; subst. slow, inactive person; paulie-footit, flat-footed." Not in N.E.D.
  • Poddlies, 140, young cole-fish
  • Poinding, 72, Sc. law, pünd, O.E. pyndan, to enclose in the pind or pound
  • Pointet, 88, tidy
  • Policy, 94, pleasure grounds. "This sense influenced by politus, polished, late Lat. polities, elegancy."—N.E.D.
  • Poother, 14, powder
  • Popular sayings, 197
  • Portioner, 72, Sc. law, feuar, small landowner
  • Pothy, 176, apothecary
  • Pots, 187, Cu.
  • Pouk, powk, 71, a pustule; prob. Teut. stem, pug, puk, to swell up, pug, a monkey, Puck, a sprite. Of Celt. or. Du. and Ger. spuk, N. spjok, represent Scand. development. Pixie—"or. obsc." N.E.D. See spook
  • Praett, 93, guile, trick. A.S., praetig, cunning, Norse pretta, a trick, Sc. protticks, Eng. pretty, not Ger. prächtig
  • Prappin, 124, setting up as a mark for stone-throwing. There is a Gael. prap, quick, sudden. Not in N.E.D. ​
  • Precentor, 73, leader of singing in church
  • Pree, 97, 171, to try by tasting; var. of preive, by-form of prove—"The proof o' the puddin's the preein' o't."—Prov.
  • Prepositions, use of, 89, 91
  • Preses, 72, president, Sc. law term
  • Preterite or past time, 35, 37
  • Pretty, 93, O.E. praettig, crafty, Ic. prett-r; trick, Du. pret, joke, pratte, cunning. Sense development active after 15th c. Gael. prattick in text for protaig, and prob. a borrowed word
  • Prigging, 154, higgling over a bargain; or. obsc.
  • Primitive relative, 39
  • Probationer, 75, 76, preacher licensed but not ordained to a benefice
  • Process, 72, Sc. law
  • †Prochen, 160, Gael. brochan; not conn. with E. broth
  • Proheebit, 88, prohibited
  • Pronominal particle, 39
  • Prooie! 148, call to a cow. Jam. ptru, ptroo, pru. Cf. trooie, and its var. treesh, Ab.
  • Protticks, 93
  • Proudflesh, 139, inflamed flesh on a cut, likely to become gangrenous
  • Prove, 73, put to proof
  • Proverbial sayings, 67
  • Publict, witht, 12, 194
  • Pucklie, 138, 145, a grain of corn, a small quantity; var. of pickle
"There was an auld wife hed a wee pickle tow."

"Old Song."

  • Puddocks, 121, frogs; E. paddock, a toad, M.E. padde, Du. padde, pad; "root spad, to jerk, the one that moves by jerks."—Sk.

"There dwelt a paddie in a well."

"Folk Rhymes."

  • Puggie, 66, 70, applied to a tipsy man,—"a bonnie-like puggie he made o' himsel'." (J. B. F.) In my native village "Pug" Mailin (Melville), a pensioned soldier, got his nickname from his favourite expression for a dram
  • Pumfle, 65, penfold
  • Puny, 133, Fr. puis né, puîné, Lat. post natus, born after
  • Pussy bawdrons, 135. See bawdrons
  • Putten, 36, for put

Q

  • Quaich, 68, Gael cog
  • Quantity, 94, Sc. for ———
  • Quarrel, 92, idiom
  • Quean, 16, 18, young woman, Go. qwen-s, qwein-s, a woman, A.S. cwén, Gr. γυνή, queen, "quinon widuwon," Go. a widow woman
  • Queet, 152, Ab. cüte, ankle. This is the pron. of the N.E. proverb, "Better be oot o' the queets than oot o' the fashion." See cüte
  • Quern, 160, 253, Go. kwairnus, a meal-mill, E. cor-n, ker-nel, churn, Sc. kirn, Ic. kirna; or. to curdle or form into curds (cf. Sc. curn, corn), Du. kern, grain. See asila-quairnus
  • Quhway, 78, quey, heifer
  • Quickens, 145, 182, couch-grass; from quick, living

R

  • R, 80, effect on contiguous vowels
  • Raaga, 133, Orc. youngest of a litter, Gael, ruig, ruige, a wrigling. See wrig
  • Racial heredity, 103
  • Rackon, 169, Cu. reckon
  • Raenen, reen, 136, 140, noise. Jam. has rane, reane, tedious, idle talk, to rane or cry the same thing over and over again. Conn. are Sc. roun, to whisper, E. round, Ger. raunen—all from AS. rún, a mystery
  • Rag-wort, 123, 148. See bun-weed, weebie
  • Raid, redd, reddin' up, 62, 68, 180, 198, separate, "redd a pley," settle a broil: or. sense, to put in order, make ready
  • Rain, 2.3, rign. Go.; rain, Du. and Ger. Regen
  • Ramsch, 136, to eat voraciously, with noise; Ic. hramms-a, to snatch violently, prob. onomat.; Shet. rampse, disagreeable to taste. Da. ram, rank, harsh ​
  • Rand, 70, C. Du.
  • Rands, 134, a narrow stripe; ründ, selvage of a web. See ründ
  • Randy, 85, 137, a scold; Gael, ranntaich, a songster, from rann, a quatrain, stave. See rune
  • Rannel-trees, 181-3, and Cu. rannlebauk, on which the crook hangs. Perhaps Ic. rann, a house, and tjalgr, a prong, fork: rand end and A.S. thil joist; Randle-tree, Scott
  • Rannie, 122. Reiny, rennie, the shrew (Shet.)
  • Rantin kirn, 107, boisterously convivial harvest-home. See kirn
  • †Raus, 12, 202, Go. a reed. Roer, C. Du. a gun (now obs.), Ger. Rohr. "Not conn. with E. rush."— Sk.
  • Ream, 68, 132, cream; Du. room, A.S. réam, O.N. rjome, Ger. Rahm. Not conn. with cream
  • Reamed, 68, 132, 156, creamed; reamin, frothing over
  • Reekt, 105, reached; Go. rikan, †raikjan, A.S. raecan, reach. Klüge—"Go. here not cog. with Ger. reichen." Or. sense "to attain to." Sc. a rake of coals, &c., is a journey with horse and cart to the coal-hill
  • Reconise, 83, recognise
  • Red, rede, to explain, unfold, n. counsel

"To a red man, rede thy rede,
With a brown man break thy bread,
At a pale man draw thy knife,
From a black man keep thy wife."

(J. B. F.)

  • Rede, 52, 198, counsel, read a riddle; Go. rathjô, a number, ga-rathjan, to count; borrowed from Lat. ratio, but Kl. says "or. conn. with ratio is unthinkable"
  • Reduplication, 35, 36
  • Reed, 65, sheep or cattle reed, coal-ree, a permanent pen; prob. ident. with Pictish rath, a camp
  • Reek, 25, 171, 208, 256, smoke; Go. rikwis, darkness, Du. rook, Ger. Rauch; or. sense "what dims, mist"
  • Reên baatjes, 207, C. Du. rain-coats
  • Reenge, rinse, 13, Go. hrains, O.N. hreinsa, to cleanse, Du. rein, Ger. rein, pure; the Sc. may be but a var. of range
  • Reese, roose, 68, 106, to praise, Ic. hress, reisa, to excite

"There's nane that reads them far and near,
But reeses Robie."

Skinner.

  • Reeshle, 13, for rustle, from rush, Go. hrishjan
  • Reesht and reet, 171, Cu. for right
  • Reflexive forms, 37
  • Reiki, 255, Go. a kingdom, cf. bishopric, root, to rule
  • Reik-s, 22, 29, Go. rich, powerful, Ger. reich, A.S. rice, Du. rijk, cog. Lat. rex
  • Reim, 202, rim (of the abdomen), the peritoneum, rim-bursin=hernia, Jam., reimpje, C. Du.
  • Reipet, 123, ripe, to search, A.S. hrypan, Ic. hrifa, to grapple, seize, cf. E. rifle
  • Residenter, 92, resident
  • Rest Harrow, 123
  • Revlins, 208, Orc. home-made shoes
  • Rib-wort, 123, 154, 163
  • Rig-end, 13, 129, end of the furrow, cog. rig-gin, ridge
  • Rig-gin, 13, the back, ridge of a house, Ger. Rücken, Du. rug, A.S. hryeg, E. ridge, O.N. hryggr, E. rick, A.S. hreac
  • Rig-welted, 189, Cu. syn. of "awal." See rig, and, for welted, cf. welter
  • "Rig woodie," 107-130, rope of withes crossing back or riggin of a yoked horse
  • Ringle-e'd, 140, wringle-e'd. Jam. "having a great proportion of white in the eye of horses" and collies. Conn. with ring, but cf. wring, deformity, blemish in "Poems of 16th C." The disease glaucoma
  • Rinnin-mink, 148, a slip noose on a halter. See monk and mink
  • Rin the cutter, 137, to fetch whisky in small bottle. Not in Jam.
  • Rise, 127, a branch. A.S. and O.N. hris, Du. rijs, from Go. hrisjan, A.S. hrissan, rustle, Ger. Reis, literally the "swaying one"
  • Risket (Burns), 66, riasg, Gael. and Ir., land covered with sedge or coarse grass, ident. with rush, A.S. ris-ce, Du. and Ger. Rusch ​
  • Rizzar, 121, 126. Jam. rizards, rizzer-berries. See "rise"
  • Rock, 161, distaff, Ic. rokk-r, Du. rokken
  • Boden, 159, 160, rowan-tree, Gael. ruadh with post-positive article=the "red" one; rowan is Scan.-Da. rön, the service or sorb tree
  • Rodith, 27, 52, Go., from Go. rodjan, to speak, Ger. reden
  • Roef, 207, C. Du. See roof
  • Roes, roose, 71, 210, C. Du.; E. rouse, drinking-bout, Ork. ruz, to praise, boast, Ic. hrósa, rouse, Shak.
  • Rogaim, 124, Ir. rag-wort
  • Rohr, 12, Ger. a reed. Go. raus, Du. roer, Fr. roseau. Kl. says, "wanting in A.S. and E." See raus
  • Roid, 137, rude. A.S. rethe, fierce, rough, royet, romping, tomboyish: prob. var. of rude, Fr. roide, strong, Lat. rigidus
  • Royet, 69, riotous
  • Roof, 13, 25, O. Fr. hrof, Du. roef, hrot, Go. roof, roost; hrost, L.Ger. (Heliand)
  • Rooi-baatje, 206, C. Du. red-coat
  • Roopie, 13, hoarse from a cold, Go. hropei
  • Roopit, 13, 88, croaking, throaty. Go. hropei, a harsh cry, hropjan, to crow, roup, to auction
  • Roost, 25, O. Du. roest or hinnen-kot, hen-roost. See roof
  • Rose, 139, erysipelas, from the red appearance
  • Roset, 134, Gael, rosead, resin
  • Roun or round, 9, to whisper, A.S. runian, to whisper, run, a mystery
  • Rounders, 155
  • Row, 80, roll
  • Rugg'd, 223, 224, rug, C. Du. back, Sc. riggin, Ger. Rücken
  • Rummle-gumshon, 136, rum-gumpshon, common sense, A.S. rum-welle, spacious, and Go. gaum-jan, to perceive
  • Run-deils, 70, 137. See rüns, ründs
  • Ründs, 70, 134, 137, Ger. Rand, fringe, border, Du. rand, corner, border, A.S. rond, Go. randa, O. Teut. ram-ta, A.S. rima, reoma; m before d becomes n; var. runes, 202
  • Rung, 13, 32, 36, hrugga, Go., Ic. röng, a rib in a ship, Ger. Runge, short piece of iron or wood, still used in E., Du. and Ger. shipbuilding
  • Runt in kale-runt, 68, 123. Jam. tree-trunk, hardened stalk, stem of colewort, Ger. Rinde, crust, cog. rand, ründ, A.S. reoma, rim in sense of end, Go. rimis, rest, Sc. runch, wild mustard
  • Rush, rustle, 13, A.S. hrysian, to rush. Go. hrishjan, to shake, Sc. reeshle
  • Rust-platz, 195, C. Du. resting-place

S

  • Sach, 217, C. Du. sighed, sooched
  • Sackless, 182, Cu.
  • Saep, 210–11, Du. zuipen
  • Sair, 97, sore
  • Saiw-s, 19, Go. the sea
  • Salmonys, 62, salmons. Barb.
  • Salt, 168, Go.; Ger. Salz, Cu. sote
  • ''Sand bed o' drink, 137, 140, a dipsomaniac
  • Sandy Cam'l, 133, the pig
  • Sa'r, 105, savour
  • Sargent, 11, sergeant
  • Sarrat, 153, Cu. served
  • Sarvent, 82, servant
  • Sauch, 252, M.E. salwe, sallow
  • Sauchie, 217
  • Sauil, 19, 255, Go. sun, Lat. sol
  • Saut, 253
  • Saut backit, 155, salt-bucket
  • Saut-girnal, 135, box for salt, girnal=garnel, granary
  • Saut's pell, 71. See pell
  • Saw, 67, cf. saw-dust
  • Saw, 139, salve, ointment, Lat. salvus
  • Saw, 13, 23, 253, sow. Go. saian, to sow, pres. part, saiand=the Sower in parable
  • Sawmon-loup, 125, a Lan. boys' game
  • Saws, 67, maxims, Ic. saga, Ger. sagen, to say ​
  • Sawtan, 70, Satan, pron. under influence of Heb. Satnanas, "limb o' Sawtan"
  • Scabbet, 68, scabbed
  • Scallog, scoloc, sgalag, 63, 64, N.Gael., husbandman, serf
  • Sch-, for primitive sk-, 195, C. Du.
  • Schade, 70, 195, Ger.; Sc. scaith, scaid
  • Schalk, 56, 63, 64, O.T. skalko-s, servant, O.E. sceale, Ger. Schalk, rogue. See mareschal
  • Sconce, 180, Cu.; Ger. Schantz, E. en-sconce
  • Shilpit, 223, C. Du. schuilpaat, skulpad
  • Schulze, 64, Ger., village bailiff
  • Scimes, skeima, 29, Go. lantern, shimmer, A.S. scima, light, Ger. schimmern
  • Sclitter, 151, Cu.; Sc. sclither, sclidder, to slip to right and left in walking, akin to slide, Ger. Schlitt-schuhe=skates
  • †Scot-free, 26, is not conn. with Go. skatts as in text. Skeat conn. with A.S. scot. (soeotan, to shout), payment, shot; the same sense and cog. forms are in Teut. generally
  • Scrabs, 114, 163, Kinc. var. of scrubs, shrubs
  • Screed, 13, skreitan. Go. to shred
  • Scuddy, scrimpit, 151, Mo. syn. jimp
  • Seap, 123, Orce. sab., to soak
  • Seapt, 122, soaked
  • Sedimateesed, 110
  • Seekin, 173, North.
  • Seen, 36, for saw
  • Seek sorry, 137, 140, very unwilling
  • Se'erday, 83, Lan. Saturday
  • Seestu, 170. See you!
  • Seggs, 119, sedges
  • Selch, 217, Bu.
  • Sele, sale, sells, 147, a rope, cattle-yoke, cog. with σειρά, a cord, Ger. Seil. See over or iver-sells (Bu.). See sells and thrammles (Ab.). Go. in-sailan, to let down with ropes, A.S. sal, N. seil, Ind.–Ger. root, "to bind"
  • Set, sat, 61, to become a person. "Gae hame, gudewife; it wad better set ye to be nursin' the gudeman's bairns than to be deavin us here."—"Waverley."
  • Settle, 135, Go. sitls, a throne, Ger. Sessel
  • Settle, 24, Go. sitan, to sit
  • Sgeilm, 222, Gael. See skellum
  • Shack, 64, E. dial. Colonial syn. for shanty
  • Shanks, 163, old name for stockings, A.S. scanea, the bone of the leg, E. shin. Shank-wiving—"Ane par worsit schankis to my page."—17th c. diary
  • Shan't can dea't, 169, Cu.
  • Sharg, 133, Orc. petulant
  • Shargar, 133, Ang. the youngest of a litter, a lean person, Gael. searg, to wither, O.Ir. illness, O.H.G. suërcan, become gloomy. "A peer shargart thing."—Gregor
  • Sheelin, 146, shelling or winnowing hill
  • Sheep-ree, 65, sheep-fold. See Reed
  • Shelly-coat, 140, kind of moth
  • Sheppert, Cu. shepherd
  • Shilpit, 223, shilpie, "shrunk, shrivelled, thin, pinched-looking about the face" (J. B. F.). See skulpad
  • Shim, 146, North., a drill harrow, a shim plough. Not in Jam.
  • Shirk, 182, Cu., cf. Ger. Schurke
  • Shoo, 28, to frighten
  • Shoo, 13, to sew. Go. siujan
  • Shools, 118, shovels
  • Shoother, 14, shoulder
  • Shot, 133, 182, a young pig, still commonly used in America
  • Shrank, 205, C. Du.
  • Shukkie mill, 159, Kinc. call of the wood worm as sign of approaching death; perhaps a var. of shoggle, to shake, but shoog, a fright, gives a better sense. Not in Jam.
  • Shut, 208, a sliding window; schut, Bord. a wooden screen, A.S. scéotan, shoot, Du. schut, a fence, screen; shottles, sliding drawers
  • Shuvve, skiuban, 13, Go. to shove, A.S. scofian, Du. schuiven, Ger. schieben
  • Sib, 22, 255, related. Go. sibja, blood relationship, Ger. Sippe; common in A.S., Fris., Du., Kr., O.N. Sif, honoured as goddess of the family. "But they micht be brocht to ​think themselves that sib that no Christian will permit their wedlock."—Scott, "Ant." Sib—"A' Stuarts are nae sib tae the King; a' the Campbells are sib tae Argyll." (J. B. F.)
  • Sic, swilk, swa-leik, 40, such, Go., Ger. solcher
  • Siccan, 169, such an
  • Sicken, 84, thicken
  • Siena yin, 167, such an one
  • Sidelights on social history, 92
  • Sied, 68, 132, strained; var. of sieve, Du. zeef, Ger. Sieb, E. sift
  • Siggwan, 27, Go. to read, E. sing; or. sense simply to resound
  • Siggwan bokos, 27, Go.
  • Sik, 39, Go. reflexive pron.
  • Silly, sels, 28, Go. happy, blessed, Ger. selig, A.S. sel, good. Sal! expletive
  • Silubr, 26, Go. silver, money, as Sc. siller
  • Sime, synu, simmons, 62, 181, Caith. ropes of heather. Ic. sime, a rope, Barb.; Kl. sub saum, a pack-horse load, notes A.S. séam, E. seam (cf. sumpter), and regards saum as existing before the break-up of the Teutons. He traces it to σάγμα, Lat. sauma, a pack-saddle
  • Singles, 129, bundles of gleaned corn, lit. gathered in single ears
  • Sinteino, 13, 20, 56, Go. daily, always. Go. sinth, a journey, time, sinthan, to go, cog. with send (Go. sandjan). Syne and since are cog. with Go. seithu, late, A.S. sith, after, Ger. Seit
  • Sinthan, 56, Go. to go, wander, cog. sandjan, send, A.S. sithian, to go. See sinteino
  • Sista, 170, Cu., syn. of seestu!
  • Sitls, 25, Go. bench
  • Sittin' in, 172, Sc. idiom, "sittin' in to the bottom"
  • Siujan, 26, Go. sew. See sew
  • Skaetchers, 129, skates; Jam. has skeitches
  • Skaiths, 70, injuries. Go. skathjan, to do scathe to, A.S. sceththan, Ger. Schade, scathe. "Better twa skaiths than ae sorrow."—Prov. See scaith
  • Skal, skeal, 179, a bumper, Go. skalja, Ic. skjola, also scoll, skiel, A.S. sceălu, scyl, E. shale, shell; "a skimming dish"—Sibbald. Gael. scala, a bowl, skalis, goblets.—Royal House. Accs. 1511.
  • Skalkinoda, skalkinon, 28, 56, 64, Go. to serve, served, Ger. Schalk; skalks, Go. See schalk, mareschal
  • Skap, 13, C. Du. sheep
  • Skattja, 26, Go. money-changer
  • Skatts, 26, Go. money, Ger. Schatz, O.N. skatt-r, rent, A.S. scéatt, piece of money. Scatt-hold is well known in Orc. land-holding
  • Skeef, skeigh, 216, C. Du.
  • Skeelyie, 25, 155, slate pencil, skaillie, skailyie; cog. is shell, a scale or husk, A.S. scell, Du. schel, Ic. skel; or. sense, to peel off. Go. skaljas, tiles
  • Skelbs, skelve, scab, 139, splinters of wood, a thin slice, a splinter of wood, Du. schelpe, a shell, Ger. Schelfe, a husk
  • Skellocks, 64, 128, Fi. skellock, skeldock, skellie, wild mustard, Ir. skeal-lagach; cf. E. charlock
  • Skellum, 63, 221, 222, rogue, Ger. and Du. Schelm, Ic. skelmir. Not in Jam.
  • Skelly-eyed, 174, Cu. and Bord.
  • Skelps, 137, blows with open hand; Gael. sgealb, is borrowed from Sc.
  • Skemel, 180, 182, Cu. shemels, shambles
  • Skiddaw Gray, 179
  • Skite, 134, a squirt from the mouth, Ic. skvetta, to squirt, var. of shoot
  • Skohsl, 28, Go. a demon, Scheu-sal, Ger. Scheuche, a scarecrow, from scherren, to shoo, scare
  • Skriners, 195
  • Skrire, 195, Du. skrij, Ger. schreiben
  • Skuft, 19, Go.; Ger. Schopf, a top-knot, O.N. skopt
  • Skulpad, 223, C. Du.
  • Skura, 13, Go. skura windis, a storm of wind; winthi-skauro, a winnowing fan, Du. schoer, Sc. shoor. Still in C. Du. as Groote Schoor, famous home of Cecil Rhodes
  • Skybels, 115, 182, Cu. skybald, a mean, worthless fellow. Da. skabhals, a rascal ​
  • Skylark, the, 126
  • Slaan, 195, C. Du., Ger. schlagen
  • Slack, 198, in place-names. For metaphor, cf. gorge, gully
  • Slabbery, 151, Mo. slobbery, app. to supping ungracefully
  • Slag, 198, 222, C. Du. Cf. Ger. schlucken, to swallow, Sc. "slocken drooth," quench thirst
  • Slakan, 30, Go. to strike, Ger. schlagen, slay, C. Du. slaan, E. slog; "slaying mutton on Sabbath."—Elg. K.S. Recs."
  • Slang, boys', 109
  • Slap, 208, a gap
  • Slaup, 36, Go. slipped
  • Sledderkin, 186, Cu.
  • Sledders, 186, Cu.
  • Slider, 186, Lan. of the ice-cream man, var. slithery
  • Slijp, slyp, 66, 212, a sledge, Ger. schleifen, to draw, Du. slijpen, E. slip, slippers. See Slip-a
  • Slim, 207, C. Du.; Ger. schlimm, E. slim; or. sense, slack, oblique, crafty, slender. Du. and Ger. retain the sense of "crafty"
  • Sliob, 66, Ir. sliobhaim, to polish
  • Slipa, 66, N. whet, i.e. to make slippery or smooth, Du. slijpen; or. sense, to glide, in Ayrsh. app. to a sledge, Cu. slape-shod, shoes worn smooth
  • Slipan, 66, A.S. slip, in Sc. to polish, sharpen. Cf. Du. slijpen, in Sc. to slide, slipe, a sledge
  • Slippy, 92, slippery
  • Slive, 173, sliver, a twig (Shak.), M.E. sliuen, to cleave, split
  • Slocken, sloken, 198, 222. See slag
  • Sloongin, Slinge, 137, 172, going about in indolent manner; slung, a tall, lank booby; Ab. cog. slink
  • Sluck, 198, Shet. See slag
  • †Sluit, 201, C. Du., doubtful if conn. with "sluice" as in the text. "O.F. escluse, a sluce."—Cot. L. Lat. exclusa, a flood-gate"—Sk.
  • Slypet, 66, glided. Burns. See Slipa
  • Small quantities, equivalent expressions for, 138
  • Smatchet, 136, small, mischievous child; perh. small-chit
  • Smeddum, 85, 136, acuteness, A.S. smedma, smedeme, fine flour
  • Smeekin, 124, 129, smoking in causal sense
  • Smiddy, 131, smithy
  • Smit, smittel, 33, 68, 210, to infect. Go. bi-smeitan, A.S. be-smitan, to pollute, Ic. smeita, steam from cooking fat, Ger. Schmutz, Du. smet, a spot, smut
  • Smoky, 104, a smoked haddock
  • Smoogle the gag, 127, 155, boys' game. See gag
  • Smore, 71, 208, C. Du. smother
  • Snaw, 23, 254, Go. snaiw-s, Ger. Schnee
  • Sneck, 135, door-latch, cf. snig, sniggle. See snig, sniggin
  • Sneck-drawer, 85, 135, a cunning person, a latch-lifter
  • Sned, 14, 23, 148, 182, 195, sneddin, Go. sneithand, snod, neat, trimmed, part. of sneithan, A.S. snithan, Ger. schneiden, Du. snijden,—all, to cut
  • Snig, 187, Cu.
  • Sniggin, 187, cf. sniggle, sneck, snook
  • Snij-doktor, 197, 210, C. Du. snij, to cut. See Sned
  • Snod, 14, 128, trim, neat, lit. cut (pret. of sned)
  • Snool, 85, one mean, spiritless, Du. snooler, to snub

"They snool me sair,
They hud me doon."

  • Snoove, 208, to move smoothly and constantly, Ir. snoimham, to twist
  • Snotter, 136, 207, to blubber, snot, snuffle, A.S. and Du. akin to snout
  • Sogers, 154, soldiers
  • Some, 94, somewhat, cf. Ger. etwas
  • Sonks, 201, a grassy seat, a straw cushion

"He'll ride nae mair on stray sonk."

"Jac. Ball."

  • Sookies, 123, soukies, clover blooms, from being sucked by children for their nectar
  • Soordook, 132, 156, buttermilk
  • Soordook sogers, 132, Loth. militia. See daich, daichie ​
  • Soorocks, 123, sorrel, Ger. saurach, E. sour, M.H.G. surach
  • Sooth, 18, 33, 86, or. sense, being, existence. Go. bi sunjai, verily, A.S. soth, Sw. sann, Da. sand. My san! var. sal, as exclam.
  • Sopje, 198, C. Du., of. "soupe" (Burns)
  • Sounded, 35, E.
  • Sowens, 156
  • Sowl, 19, 26, saiwala, Go. soul, Ger. Seels, A.S. sáwl
  • Sowm, 62, Bu. traces, soyme, chain by which plough or cart is drawn. See sime, syme, simmins, cuttysoam
  • Spang, spong, 125, 203, var. of span
  • Spang-whew, 182. See Spung-hewet, 125
  • Spar, 62, 140, to fasten a gate, common Teut. "cog. with spear in or. sense of sticks or pole."—Sk.
  • Sparwa, 20, Go. sparrow, Ger. sperling, A.S. spearwa, lit. "the fluttere," Cu. spadger
  • Spate, spait, speat, 68, 200, flood, Gael. speid, a river flood
  • Speal, spilda, 25, 27, 67, Go. a writing tablet, A.S. speld, a torch, all from base, spald, to split, Ger. spalten, cf. Sc. speldrin, a fish split and dried. Cf. splinter, spale, spail, a lath in wooden houses, a chip. This word has been confounded with the similar "spell," to read.
  • Spearmint, 121, a species of mint
  • Speel, spele, speil, 126, 196, climb, A.S. spilian, Du. spelen, O.N. spila, Ger. spielen. Cf. "a spell of work," a turn
  • Speengie, 121, 156, peony
  • Speir, speer, 74, 97, 196, 224, Du. spoor, a trail: as v. A.S. spyrian, Du. speuren, O.N. spyrja

"He speer't what was't they ca'd her."

"Old Song."

  • Spelk hen, 181, Gael. spealg (borr.), M.E. spelke, a splinter, N. spjalk, Du. spalk, a splint. Cf. spelicans, a Du. game played with slips of wood, O.Du. spelleken, a small pin
  • Speogs, 181, Dumb.
  • Spilda, 27, Go. a writing tablet, hence E. spill, a slip of wood, assimilated to "spell" from early use in schools for learning to read. Cf. M.E. speld, a splinter, with Sc. speldrin, dried fish split
  • Spill, 27, Go. a fable, myth, A.S. spel; Go. spillon, to relate, E. spell=say or tell the letters. See spilda
  • Spilla, 25, 27, Go. a teller, spillon, to tell. See spilda
  • Spinks, 121, pinks
  • Spolk, 181, Orc.; E. spoke, spike, Ger. Speiche
  • Spooks, 220, 223, from Du. spook, O.Ger. spauka, a spectre—of Norse or.
  • Spoor, 196, 197, 224, C.Du. See Speer.
  • Spoot gun, 123, 134, pop gun, cf. spout
  • Spraul, 105, sprawl, a struggle, for sprattle, to spar or toss the limbs about, N.E. sprottle, to struggle
  • Spreckled, 167, speckled
  • Sprickelt paddicks, 178, Cu.
  • Sprits, 66, 200, 201, wet or spritty spots, covered with rushes, vars. spritty, sprat, spreat, Du. spruit, a stream, properly a spring that spurts out, cf. sprout, to germinate, spirt, Ger. spritzen, E. sprout, spurt
  • Sprug, spug, spyugs, 125, a sparrow, in dial.
  • Spruit, 200, 216, Du. spruiten. See sprits
  • Spung hewet, spung taed, 125, 182, vars. spang-hue, spang-whew
  • St. Anthony's Pig, 133, yearly on St. Anthony's Day (Jan. 17) domestic animals are brought to be blessed before the porch of St. Eusebius Church in Rome
  • Stab-s, 27, Go. a letter, A.S. stafas, letters of alph., Ger. Buchstabe, E. staff, stave (music), Sc. and Gael, stob, a stake, pale, or. something firm, the "graving of Runes" (Kl.)
  • Staen, 23, Ab. steen, E. stone, Go. stains
  • Staiga, 26, Go. a path or highway, ​Du. and Ger. Steig, a street, from Go. steigan, to climb. See stey
  • Staigs, 69, 105, 137, 147, colts, var. of stag, app. to the male of different animals
  • Stake and rise, 127, fence or wall of upright stakes and wattles interwoven. See Rise. Not in Jam.
  • Staldan, 24, Go. to own or possess, cf. Du. staatholder, owner of a stead. See steading
  • Stamnis, 18, Go. a stammerer. See stoom
  • Stang, 208, a long pole, E. sting. Go. us-stiggan, to push out, Ger. Stange, a pole
  • Stanner-gaster, 153, Mo.
  • Starns, 255, stars, has the adj. suffix n of the Go. stairno=Ger. Stern

"Ye hills, near neebors o' the starns,
That proudly cock your cresting cairns."

Burns.

  • Staw, 172, a surfeit, v. to put to a stand, Da. staae, S. wstaa, to stand
  • Stead, steading, 24, 25, Go. stads, home-stead, Ger. Stadt. Fi. and Bu. stath-el, staid-el, a small rick
  • Steanies, 187, Cu.
  • Steek, 207, C. Du. and So. stitch, stick, Du. and Ger. sticken
  • Steer, 56, stir=disturb, A.S. Styr-ian, Ic. styrr, Ger. stören, cog. with storm
  • Steg, 168, Cu. a gander; cf. stag in sense of male in general
  • -ster, -bus, 65, home-stead in Norse place names
  • Stêrt, C. Du. 224, A.S. steort, M.E. stert, a tail, Du. staart, Ger. Sterz, lit. the "outspread." Cf. redstart, Start Point. "Stark-naked, a corr. of stert-naked."—Sk.
  • Stey, 26, 208, steep, A.S. stigan, to climb. See staiga
  • Stibna, 32, Go. voice, Ger. Stimme, A.S. stefn, M.E. steven
  • Stile, 208, A.S. stigel, Shet. stiggy. See stigan
  • Still an' on, 172, Sc. and Cu.
  • Stime, 86, 138, Sc. a speck; var. of skime, A.S. scima, a gleam

"At sic an eldritch time
O' nicht when we see ne'er a stime."

  • Stinkin Elshender, 123, ragwort
  • Stinkin Willie, 148
  • Stink weed, 148, ragwort
  • Stirk, 68, 147, a young bullock, Ger. stark, strong, A.S. stearc, styrc do., Du. sterk. Go. ga-staurknan
  • Stiur, Go. 21, 250, steer, calf, Du. and Ger. stier, Lat. taurus=strong, full-grown
  • Stockannet, strokannet, 124, 140, 172, 180, sheldrake or burrow duck, Shet. links goose. Not in Jam.
  • Stoep, 25, 188, 207, C. Du. porch
  • Stols, 25, Go. a throne, Ger. Stuhl, Du. stoel, E. stool
  • Stook, 128, 129, a clump of corn sheaves, Ger. Stück, E. stock
  • Stoom, stoomin, 137, 140, sulking, Ger. stumm, dumb, E. stammer
  • Stoor=dust, 97, dust of battle, cf. stir

"Till many a man lay weaponless,
An' was sair wounded in that stour."

  • Stot, 196, C. Du. stuit, Go. stantan, to smite, Ger. stossen, to push, cf. stutter, cog. with Lat. tundo, to hammer
  • Stot, 147, a young ox. Da. stud, a bull, E. steed, stud, A.S. steda, Ger. Stute; stott, a horse (Chaucer)
  • Stoup an' room, 188
  • Stovies, 129, var. of stew
  • Straucht, 91, adj. and verb
  • Strau-ja, 249, Go. bed of straw
  • Stravaig, 129, to stroll, app. not only to people

"The moon has rowed her in a cloud,
Stravaiging winds begin,
To shuggle and daud the window brods.
Like loons that wad be in."

Wm. Miller.

  • Stravaiging, 129, strolling, Lat. extravagare. "Stravaigin' aboot in the moonlicht wi' a young lassie"
  • Strawr-rat, 82, straw hat
  • Streiket corpse, 74, stretched in the coffin
  • Strong and weak verbs, 35
  • Stroup, 201, Ic. strup. Da. strube, the gullet
  • Subjunctive, 91, 197
  • Sugar-awlie, 186, Lan. sugar-ellie, Fi. a stick of liquorice
  • Suícĭdal, 81, E.
  • Suljo, 17, Go. sole of the foot, sandal, Lat. solea ​
  • Sully, 28, 81, silly. See silly
  • Summonses, 72, summons
  • Sumph, 29, 137, a lout, Gael. samph, a clownish fellow, Go. swamms, a sponge, swumfsl. Da. svamp, a sponge, swampig, spongy, A.S. swam, σπόγγος, Lat. fungus, a sponge, Da. sump, a swamp, E. swamp—all from root swim. See swamm
  • Sumph, 29, 137, a pool, swamm, swamm-s, a sponge. Go. Both Teut. and class., as sponge, spongy; Da. and Sw. variant sump ident. with Sc. coal-mining term
  • Süne, 11, E. soon. Go. sun-s
  • Sunno (f.), sunna (m.), 19, 23, Go. sun, Ger. Sonne
  • Sunu-s, 18, 247, Go. a son
  • Supperfluity, 73
  • Sut-is, 11, 28, Go. sweet, Ger. süsz, Du. zoet
  • Swei-cruck, 210, sway or swing crook
  • Swine-crü, 182, Cu. See crüve
  • Syle, 182, a straining sieve, Sw. sîl, a strainer, L.Ger. sielen, to draw off water, E. silt. The l is not radical, cf. Da. and Sc. sie, to filter
  • Syme, 181, straw rope for securing thatch. See soum, simmins
  • Syne, 13, 20, 56, Sc.; full form, sithen-s (with adv. suff.), sith-then, after that; cf . Ger. seit-dem, A.S. sith, after, is Go. seith-us, late; syne, sin, an early contraction of sithens
  • Sype, 172, to ooze, E. sap, A.S. saep, Ger. saft. See seip, sipe

"An' gart his swalled e'en sype
Sant tears that day."

Skinner.

  • Syper, 211. See sype
  • Syth hyuck, 146, scythe hook
  • Swauping, 130, swapping, bartering, Ger. schwappen, to strike, in sense of striking a bargain
  • Sweer, 29, 69, 97, 197, 209, unwilling, C. Du. zwaar, A.S. swaer, O.N. svárr, Ger. schwer. Go. swers, heavy, honoured, sweran, to honour, var. of sweer, sweir, swere, swear=sweert, lazy in Jam., rather reluctant, as—

"He was gey sweert tae pairt wi's siller."

(J. B. F.)

  • Sweer-kitty, 160, wrestling-game
  • Sweer-tree, ditto, 158, 160. See sweer
  • Swes, 26, Go. one's own property, cog. with Lat. suus
  • Swei, sway, swing, 210
  • Swein, 24, Go. swine; or. su-ina, young of the sow
  • Swingle-tree, 130, part of plough graith
  • Swistar, 18, Go. sister, Ger. Schwester
  • Swith, swinth-s, 58, Go. strong, A.S. strong, very much:—

"In the thrang o' stories tellin',
Shakin' hands an' jokin' queer.
Swith, a chap comes on the hallan:
'Mungo, is our Watty here?'"

Alex. Wilson.

  • Swounded, 35, Shak. swooned

T

  • T slurred bet. vowels, 111; -t(neut.), 44, 45
  • T' as def. art. 168—"t' words 'at"—Cu.
  • Taal, 222, C. Du., cog. with tell
  • Taave, tyaave, 100, 101, Ab. See taw, tew
  • Tables, at the Sacrament, 74
  • Tackin in, 92, term in stocking-knitting
  • Taed, taid, 129, a toad, A.S. and M.E. tade. See spung-taed
  • Taepit, taintless, taebetless, tapetless, 87, 138, 139, 151, Fi. manual dexterity. Withless, syn. of thowless. Prob. taipit for to-put
  • Tag, 21, 155, var. of taws or ferule, a latchet. Go. tagl=tail, A.S. taegel
  • Tagrida, 36, Go. wept, as if teared
  • Tahjan, 12, Go. to tear. Go. tiuhan, to tow, tug, A.S. teóhan, teón, to. pull, Ger. Ziehen, Du. touwen, to curry leather, theofa, O.N. to waulk or shrink cloth, E. taw, tew, to curry
  • Taihswa, 17, Go. right-handed, Lat. dexter; cf. carrie, left hand, carrie-mittit, Lan.
  • Taikns, 53, Go. a miracle, token, cog. Zeichen, so used in Luther's Bible
  • Tain-jo, 5, Go. woven basket, hence tine, tooth of a harrow, M.E. "tyndis of harrowis," stag's antlers, cog. tooth ​
  • †Tains, 5, 26, Go. thorn-branch. See tain-jo, toon
  • Tait, tate, 68, 138, tiny bit, tit, teat, tot, Sw. tott, handful of lint or wool
  • Tak on, 137, buy on credit
  • Talitha, 2, Aram. damsel=mawilo (Wulf.)
  • T'allen, 176, Cu. for the hallan, which see
  • Tami-da, 36, Go. pret. of tamjan, to tame
  • Tam-jan, 36, Go. to tame
  • Tammy-reekie, 129, boys' trick as pastime
  • Tand, N. 203
  • Tangs, 207, C. Du. tongs
  • Tante, 207, C. Du.
  • Taps, tops, 122, fir cones; 207, of beer
  • Tarrow, 69, to hesitate, refuse; tarrowin', grumbling, tarre, to incite
  • Taucht, 49, pret. of teach
  • Taujan, Go. to do, bring out
  • †Taupie, tawpie, 85, 136, 170, a foolish woman, Da. taabe, a fool, Sw. tapig, simple, foolish—prob. not Fr. taupe
  • Taurds, 155, taws, ferule. W. tar-o, tar-aw, to strike. "At the Elgin Academy we called it the tag."—Prof. Cooper. See tarrow
  • Taw, 12, E. to tan leather, Go. tiuhan, to be ready, with many deriv.
  • Taws, ferula, 101, 155, Gael, tas, a whip, scourge; var. of tags, A.S. tawian, to tan, beat. See taw, tyaave
  • Tawtiet (Burns), 183, uncombed, towsy, perh. conn. with tatter, N. totra, taltra, pl. tultrer, rags. The aw is accounted for by the elided l. For the term. -iet, see nakkit
  • Tchuch, 12, 13, 168, Sc. tough, perh. Go. tahjan, to tear, guttural in A.S. tóh, Ger. zähe. See tíuhan
  • Tchuch Jeans, 186, tough geans, a Glasgow sweet
  • Teav, tew, 180, Cu., fidget, exert one's self. See taave, taw
  • Têk, tai, tôk, 35, Go. take and took
  • Tell, 92, to bid or order
  • Tell, 88, to one's credit. "It's no tellin' ye," not to your credit
  • Tempery cook, 84, temporary
  • Teuchat, tchuchat, 125, the lapwing
  • Teuk, took, 180, Niths.
  • Teva-kudda, 100, Orc. tuva-keuthie—Jam. See tyaave and cod
  • Tew, 101, 180, Cu. See taw, tyaave
  • Tewsum, Cu. 180
  • Th, sound, 14
  • Thae, 91
  • Thae, thirr, 168
  • Thahai, thahan, 31, Go.; cog. taceo, to be silent
  • Thai, 32, 39, 45
  • Thair, thaim, 45
  • Thames (set on fire), 173, temse, tems, A.S. temes, a sieve, Du. tems, a strainer: a corn sieve, which, if worked too quickly, might fire the wooden hoop. "Tammy not given in Jam, E. temse, tems, a sieve, a scarce, bolter" (J. B. F.)
  • That, 45, 63, 90, 157
  • That, for so, 90
  • That, as def. art, 39, 157, 171, that baths, that cleek, that poker, Ab.
  • Thaurban, 31, Go. to be in want, Ger. bedürfen, to have cause, Du. durven, A.S. thurfan
  • Thaurnus, 23, Go. thorns
  • The, 91, Go. thar, E. there; from an old Teut. demonst. tha, Ger. da, dort
  • The, particularising, 94
  • The, 39, the day
  • The, 30, v. to prosper, M.E. See theihan
  • The tane and the tither, 171
  • Theats, 130, ropes or traces. Ic. "thatt-r, cord, small rope."—Jam.
  • Thee, 30, thigh
  • Theel, theevil, 129, 172, 182, Fi. porridge-stick, E. thill, cart-shaft, A.S. thille, a thin slip of wood, Ic. thilja, a plank, Ger. Diele, E. deal
  • Theihan, 30, Go. to thrive, O.E. ge-théon, to thee, Ger. ge-deihen, to prosper; root sense, to grow, flourish. "So mote I thee!" common M.E. asseveration
  • Thewis, thius, 24, Go. a servant, A.S. théow, servant, slave, Ger. dienen, to serve ​
  • Thick, 173, Cu.
  • Thig, 145, to ask, beg, Ic. thygg-ia, to receive as a gift, accept hospitality for a night. Da. tigger, a beggar
  • Think shame to, 92
  • Thirr, 90
  • Thissilaga, 156, colt's-foot
  • Thiudans, 22, Go.; Ger. Deutsch, the "folk," national name
  • Thiud-isk, 7, "theodisca lingua in Lat. texts, 788—eccles., not polit., term," O.Sc. thede, a nation
  • Thole, 33, 69, 70, 97, 139, endure. Go. thulan, to suffer, Ger. dulden; cog. Lat. tolerare, all Teut. in Sc. sense, to put up with
  • Thone, 38, 45
  • Thoo, thou, 172, familiar
  • Thoo gan, 172, Cu.
  • Thowless, thewless, thieveless, 87, feeble, applied in Sc. to bodily qualities, in O.E. to mental, theauwe, virtues, A.S. theawas, manners, E. thews; "sense of bulk, strength, comes straight from the root, tu, to be strong."—Sk.
  • Thraep, hraep, 13, 171, to argue, assert with pertinacity. Go. hropjan, to cry out, hropei, clamour, Sc. roup
  • Thraif, thraves, threave, 129, 171, twenty-four sheaves of corn, Ic. threfi. Da. trave, a score of sheaves, threve, Cu. a number of sheaves
  • Thrang, 90, busy, A.S. thringen, to press, Ger. dringen. Go. threihan, Ger. drängen, E. throng
  • Thraw, 67, to twist, A.S. thrâwan, var. of throw
  • "Thraw-cruck" 62, twist-crook
  • Thriutan, 27, Go. to threaten
  • Throo-gawn, 137, through-going, pushful
  • Throo-pit, 140
  • Through his sleep, 89
  • Thrummy cap, 134, cap of thrums, Ic. thröm-r, margin, selvage
  • Thruts-fill, 27, Go. leprosy. See fill
  • Thur ans, 167, Cu.; Sc. thirr yins or ains
  • Thut-haum, 28, Go. a trumpet, Du. toet-horen, Ic. thjota, to blow a horn
  • Ticky-molie, 129, 140. The trick lay in fastening a long thread to the astragal of the window-pane. From this fixed end hang a short length with a pin or tack attached. A slight regular pull on the thread from a safe distance produced an eerie sound in the still room. If surprised, it was easy for the boy to "cut the painter"
  • Tig, 127, a tap, slight stroke; boys' game; var. of tick, tack
  • Timmer, 23, 26, 249, syn. of tree, wooden; timrjan. Go. to build, Ger. Zimmer
  • Tinder, 21, Eng.; Go. tundja, a bush; prob. not related. A.S. tyndre, tendan, to kindle. Da. tönder
  • Tine, 26, Go. tains, tain-jo, which see. Prong in a harrow, stag's antler; O.E. tinde, Ic. tind-r, Sw. tinne, a prickle, Ger. Zinne, a pinnacle, ult. akin to tooth
  • Tinkler, 92, 153, 168, 183, tinker
  • Tipt, 67, tepid
  • Tirr, 231, prob. a var. of tear; "most common usage not given—to remove subsoil above a bed of rock in a quarry" (J. B. F.)
  • Titty, 173, sister
  • Tiuhan, 12, Go. to tow, tug. See tew, taw, tyaave
  • To, prep. 89, "no fault to him"
  • †Toff, 192, doubtful if var. of topf
  • Toh, 13, A.S. tough, Sc. tyuch, tchuch. Go. tah-jan, to rend; or. to bite. See tiuhan, tyuch
  • Token, 53, A.S. tácn, Du. tecken, Go. taikns, a miracle (in Leather's "Bible" its cog. zeichen is used)
  • Took their bare feet, 88
  • Toom, tume, 204, empty
  • Toom, 202, C. Du. a bridle rein, Ic. taum-r, Ger. Zaum, from sense of reducing to order, as in E. team—base tau, in taw, to curry leather. Go. tau-jan, to cause, make
  • Toon, 5, 41, 249, town, -ton. Go. tun, A.S. tún, Du. tuin, hedge, O.N. tún, homestead, Ger. Zaun, a hedge. Klüge finds it in Lugdûnum, Roman London
  • Toot, 28, E. to sound a horn, Du. tuiten, Ger. tuten ​
  • Tooth, 18, A.S. tôth=tanth, N. tand, Go. tunthus, tooth
  • Toper, 193, Cu. anything excellent in its kind
  • Tothed, 200, ted, to spread new-mown grass, tedded; Ic. tethja, to spread tath or manure, töthu-verk, making hay. See koil-tett
  • Tove, 100, toss, Shet. See tyaave
  • Tow, 68, 161, 208, and C. Du. rope,

"An' or I wad anither jade
I'll wallop in a tow."

A.S. tow, Ic. to, a tuft of wool, tog a rope

"There was an auld wife had a wee pickle tow.
An' she wad gae try the spinnin' o't,
She lootet her doon an' her rock took a low
An' that was a bad beginnin' o't."

Alex. Ross. (J. B. F.)

  • Trake, 203, to wander idly, C. Du. trek
  • Tramp-colies, 146, Mo. hay stacks
  • Trance, 176, perh. Lat. trans, across
  • Trances, 146, hey soos. Mo.
  • Transpire, 94
  • Trap, 135, 207, Ger. Treppe, a ladder, Du. trap
  • Traps, 92, for the unwary Englishman
  • Treacle peerie, 132, home-made small beer. See peerie
  • Treak, 203, Cu.
  • Tree, 20, 26, Go. triu, triu-weins, wooden
  • Treesh, 148, Mo. call to a cow
  • Trek, 211, 203, C. Du.
  • Treviss, 131, partitions in a stable forming the stall, Lat. trabs, a beam
  • Trig, trigger, 211
  • Trogger, 111, Ir. vagrants who gather old clothes
  • Troke, troking, 135, 152, 203, to barter
  • Tromp, 223, C. Du. trump, Fi. a Jew's harp, trumpet
  • Trooie, 148, Mo.
  • Trowtis, 62, trouts, Barb.
  • Tuig, 208, C. Du. tow, a rope. See tow
  • Tull me, 168, Cu.; cf. Sc. till, intill for to, into
  • Tummel-car, 181, Cu. tumlin-wheels, primitive solid wooden wheels
  • Tunthus, 18, Go. tooth, Lat. dens, dentis
  • Tutor, 72, Sc. law term
  • Twal oor, 197, twaalf uur, C. Du.
  • Twal oors, 129, mid-day meal, twelve hours
  • Twa-neukit, 88, two-cornered
  • Twicet, 90, twice
  • Tyaave, 100, difficulty: "my job's an affle tyaave" (Ab.), buckie-tyanve, a good-humoured wrestle (Bff.)
  • Tyeuve, 101, Bu., laboured hard. See taw, tew

U

  • U, sounds, thin, and name, 81
  • Ubils, 29, Go. evil
  • Ubizwa, 25, Go. a porch, A.S. efese, a clipt hedge of thatch, from Go. prep. uf, under, Ger. oben; lit. cover, shelter
  • Udal, Udaller, 10, Orc. land tenure. See Othal
  • Ug, 154
  • Ug-sam, 30, Bord.
  • Ug-some, 98. See ugly, ogre
  • -uh, 45, Go. affix, Lat. que
  • Ulbandus, 21, Go. camel. See elephant
  • Umhm! 85
  • "Um zu," 91, Ger. for to
  • Unco, 171, Cu. in or. sense, unknown, strange, and not an intensive as in Sc.
  • Undaurni-mats, 24, Go. morning meal, E. undern, still in prov. dial.; 9 A.M. in Paisley Burgh Recs.
  • Und hina dag, 45, Go. unto this day
  • Und hita nu, 45, Go. hitherto
  • Undomous, 153, Mo. un-demus, incalculable; un and deman to judge.—Jam. Go. ga-domjan, doom, judge. Syn. byous
  • Unfewsom, 182, Cu.; cf. Ger. fügsam, pliant
  • Unhouseled, 32, Shak., A.S. husel, the Eucharist, Go. hunsl, a sacrifice; or. sense, to kill
  • Unhultha, 28, Go. from hulths, gracious, hilthan, to favour; O.E. holde, faithful. Kl. connects with ​Ger. hold, O.N. hollr, A.S. hold, gracious
  • Unless, 90, without
  • Un-selja, 28, Go. un-silly, i.e., wicked. See silly
  • Un-weis, 13, Go. unlearned. See weiss
  • Upsij, 218, C. Du. See op-sit
  • Up a heet, 169, North.
  • Uppalt, 153, cessation, uphald, uphaud
  • Upsettin', 136, conceited brat
  • Upsie-daesiss, 185, nursery prattle—up—down
  • Up-tack, 92, quick apprehension
  • Us-hlaupands, 33, Go.; Sc. loupin up, leap, A.S. hleápan, Du. loopen, Ger. laufen, all in sense to run
  • Us-litha, 27, Go. paralytic. See lith
  • Us-stiur-iba, 56, from stiur-jan, to establish, confirm, E. steer, to guide, and steer, an ox, in prim. sense of "what stands firm," as in Ic. staurr, a post
  • Uz-anan, 31, Go. to give up the ghost. See an-an, to breathe
  • Uz-eto, 24, Go. manger, out-eater

V

  • Val, 210, C. Du. val deure, a trapdoor, E. fall. See moos-fa'
  • Vee, 218, C. Du. See fe
  • Veldt, 199, C. Du.; O.N. fold, A.S. fëld, Du. veld, E. field, fell, fieldfare
  • Vel schoen, 208, C. Du. shoes of skin. See fill
  • Verb present with s, 90 (Scots)
  • Victual, 94, rations
  • Village commune, 64
  • Vlei, 125, C. Du., cog. flay, M.E. flean, Ic. flá, to slice off, Sw. flaga, a flake. App. to slicing off turf in Sc. flauch, and flauchter, which see
  • Volksraad, 198, C. Du.; E. folk and Go. redan, to counsel, provide, A.S. raedan, Ger. Rat, raten, E. read, Sc. rede

"An' may he better reck the rede
Than ever did the adviser."

Burns.

  • Vrij, vrijers, 205, C. Du. to woo, wooers, Ind.-Ger. root pri, to love, cog. with friend. Or. sense, free choice, hence Du. vrij. Go. freis (frija), Ger. frei. See free
  • Vuur, 207, C. Du. fire

W

  • Waddjan, 25, comp. with "baurgs," Go. town-wall, A.S. wattel, a hurdle, Sc. wattles, wallet; lit. "a thing woven together"
  • Waa'er, 83, Lan. water
  • Wad-g-er, 212, Fi. See wadi
  • Wadi, 26, Go. a pledge, E. wed. Go. waddja-bokos, a bond
  • Wadmel, 100, Orc.; E. wad, a bundle of stuff, Ic. vadmal, a plain woollen stuff, Ger. Watte, a fishing-net, like Ic. vathr, stuff wound together. Cf. E. weeds, dress. See mail
  • Wadn't cud dea't, 169, Cu. idiom
  • Wad-set, 26, 155, 212, a mortgage, wad, a pledge; cf. Lat. vas, vadis. See wadi
  • Waër, 62, Barb, sadder; comp. cf. wae, woe
  • Waffie, 137, a vagabond, waff, strayed

"To wear up three waff ewis strayed on the bog."—"Gentle Shepherd."

  • Waggari, 17, Go. a pillow, A.S. waggare, wange, cheek, jaw, E. wang-tooth, O.E. and Ger. Wange
  • Waian, 255, Go. root of E. weather
  • Wair, 248, Go. world, A.S. wergeld, Ger. Welt, Lat. vir
  • Wairdless, 87, spendthrift, without ward, guard or prudence
  • Wairilo, 17, Go. the lip, A.S. weler
  • Wairthan, 48, Go. to become, arch. E. worth, Ger. werden
  • Wairthus or wairdus, 24, Go. a host, Ger. Wirth
  • Wale, waled, 33, 183, 192, 219, Go. waljan, to choose, Ic. velja, Ger. wählen, cog. with will
  • Wallop, 53, 156, Mo. the lapwing, wallock and to wallach, to use many circumlocutions
  • Wallowit, 49, withered, A.S. wealwian, to roll, wallow; cf. Lat. volvo, to roll ​
  • Walshoch, 153, weak and watery; cf. walsh, welsche, insipid; Jam. Teut. gælsch; A.S. gaelsa, wantonness, pride. See galsh
  • Wamme, 29, Go. spot, O.E. wem, A.S. wem, a scar, a blemish
  • Wandjan, 34, Go. to wend, turn, went
  • Wange, 18, jaw, cheek, A.S. wange, Ger. and O.E. the cheek. The molars are sometimes called wang-teeth. See wangere, A.S. pillow, bolster
  • Wanst, 90, once
  • Wap, 172, 174, a disturbance, "to kick up a wap," to throw quickly, "wappit war wyde," thrown quite open, M.E. wappen, to beat, strike—"Allit. Poems," Amours
  • Wardle, 16, Ab. world
  • Warem, 209, C. Du. warm
  • Warsle, 97, to sidle along, struggle, wrestle
  • Wasti, 19, 254, Go. dress, Lat. vestis, ga-wasiths, was clad
  • Watch weds, 187, Cu. for game of "Scots and English," weds, pledges, as in wad-set, which see
  • Water brash, 139, a symptom of indigestion
  • Water droger, 133. Cf. droch, a dwarf
  • Wato, 253, Go. water
  • "Wattled cotes," 15, 67, Milton. See withe, withy, waddja
  • Wauken, wakand, 53, pres. part. of wauk, to be on the wake or watch

"The waukin'" (watching) "o' the fauld."

All. Ramsay.

  • Waukit, 65, wauk, to full cloth, render callous, as the palm by hard work—

"Till his waukit hoofs were in a blister."

"Jac. Ball."

  • Waur, wairs, 29, 97, Go.; E. worse
  • Waurms, 20, Go. worm
  • Waurtja, 26, 48, Go.; E. ort, wort, root, Ger. Wurz
  • Waxin kernels, 182, Cu. wax kernels, Fi. an indurated gland, often in the neck
  • Wean, 66, Lan. child; obsc. or.
  • Wearin, a, 173, Cu. a decline, Sc.
  • Wearing-down process, 194
  • Weary alone, to, 92
  • Wecht, 124, close sieve used in winnowing corn
  • Wed, 187, Cu. See wadi
  • Wedder, 21, a sheep, wether. Go withrus, a lamb; or. sense, a "yearling"
  • Weebie, 123, 148, the ragwort, Fi. Not in Jam.
  • Weed, 179, E. dress (Shak.)
  • Weed-clips, 173, Cu.
  • Weed, 139, an illness
  • Weel-eddicate, 88, well educated
  • Weel-hained, 130, well-preserved, hain, have to spare. See hained
  • Ween, 30, expect, fancy. Go. wenjan, to expect
  • Weet, 209, C. Du. pron. wait, as on the Borders; wat, wot
  • Wee wifikie, 106, little wifie
  • Weigan, 23, Go. to fight, A.S. wig, a warrior
  • Weihs, weihsta, 26, 249, Go. street corner, Lat. vicus, a wick, -wich
  • Weina, 26, Go. wine. Cog. Lat. vinum, from which it is borrowed
  • Weina-basi, 15, Go. the grape, lit. wine-berry
  • Weird, 69, werd, weerd, A.S. wyrd, fate, Go. wairthan, and Ger. werden, to come to pass; werdie, 69, feeblest bird in a nest, "Ilka nest has its werdie." Prob. conn. with weird, wyrd, as the luckless, unfortunate. (J. B. F.)
  • Weis (weece), 11, Go. we
  • Weiss, 83, wyce
  • Weitan, 51, Go. to see, to wit
  • Well-caumed, 135, cam-stone, white clay hardened. "Teut. kalmeysteen."—Jam.
  • Wer, 16, A.S. a man, as in wergild, weor-old, Lat. vir. See wair
  • Wer-old, 16, O.E. world, A.S. weor-old—comp. of Ic. verr. Go. wair. Lat. vir. a man, and old, M.E. elde, old age, Go. aids, an age—all in sense "an age of man"
  • Wersh, 86, 153. See walshoch
  • Weyt, 182, Cu. wecht, Fi.
  • Wh (init.)=W, 82
  • Wha, whaw, 14, 40, who, interr.
  • Whan, hwan, 32, Go. when ​
  • Whaup, 119, greater curlew—onomatop.
  • Wheen, quheyne, 69, 86, 94, 138; cf. whang, a large piece, Lat. cuneus, a wedge: quhan in place names, as Quoth-quhan
  • Wheenge, 30, 136, E. whine, A.S. wanian. Kl. thinks the cognate Ger. weinen probably from Go. and Ger. wai, woe (as interj.) and Go. wainags, unhappy, tearful, and compares with Go. kwainon, to weep

"A' ye whingin Whig carles."

"Old Song."

  • Wheesh, 13, hush, Go. wis
  • Wheetie, 148, call to ducks
  • Whicks, quickens, 182, Cu.
  • Whid, whidding, 14, rapid movement

"He heard the bows that bauldly ring,
An' arrows whidderin hym near by."

"Old Ball."

  • Whiles, for sometimes, 167
  • Whi-lk, 14, 40, which
  • Whill, 90, until
  • Whilst, whiles, whilie, 35, 90
  • Whins, winds, 83, E.
  • Whip t' cat, 188, Cu.
  • Whisps, 83, E. wisps
  • †White, whet, 14, 30, E. to sharpen, A.S. hwettan, Ic. hwettja, to sharpen, incite, Go. hwass, sharp
  • Whittret, 124, prob. Ic. hvat-r, quick, bold; pet name for a youngster
  • Whol, 174, pool in a river, Bord.; Ger. Welle, a billow
  • Whopan, 48, Go. to boast, whoop
  • Who's owt t' dog, 169, Cu. idiom
  • Whummle-bore, 139, 140, 151, cleft palate; onomatop. as affecting speech
  • Wicht, waihts, 12, Go. a thing, E. wight, whit, Ger. Wicht
  • Wicks=corners, "wickin a bore," 98, wic, an open bay, Ic. vik, creek
  • Widdy, 25, 67, 252, withe, Sc. wattles, Da. vidie, halter or rope of willow or hazel twigs, hence the gallows. See Go. waddja.

"Ye cheat the widdie, rogue."

  • Widow woman, 18, 35, 247, widuwo, Go.; cf. Lat. vidua
  • Wife, 209, C. Du. wifie
  • Wife-day, cum-mether, Cu. 181. See Cummer's Feast
  • Wig, 181, North. tea-cake, Du. wegge, a kind of cake, Ger. Weck, wheaten bread, or. sense in O.N. vegge, a wedge. See wheen
  • Wigs, 23, Go. wayside
  • Wig-leader, 82, E. whig
  • Wiht, 12, olden form of whit
  • Wiljan, 255, Go., cf. will, well
  • Willie-miln, 66, Fi. door-catch
  • Willie-waucht, 85, a hearty draught of liquor. Not in Jam.
  • Wiltit, 49, walwjan, Go. to roll, E. welter, waltz, wallow, A.S. wealwian, wyltan, to roll round
  • Wime, Wambe, 18, 58, belly, Go. wamba, Ger. Wamme, E. womb

"Our wames e'en to our riggin bane
Like skate fish clappin."

"Puddin' Leezie."

  • "Wince, loot a" (Burns), 173, an oath, perh. corr. of "wounds." See "'Ods wuns."
  • Windy, 63, 92, boastful
  • Wining, 145, app. for winding
  • Winister, 146, instr. for winding straw ropes. Not in Jam.
  • Winthi-skauro, 23, Go. wind or winnowing fan. Du. schuren, a barn, as in the Taal (with Go. hard pronunc.), Groote Schoor, the Cape Town house of Cecil Rhodes, now Government House for S.-Af. Union. See Skura windis
  • Wintrus, 23, Go. winter
  • Wipe, 172, a blow, a retort, the act of rubbing to clean, a blow, stroke, A.S. wipian, cf. whip, wisp
  • Wippin, 83, E. for a whippin
  • Wirset, 233, worsted, from name of a village near Norwich
  • Wirth, 24, Ger.; Go. wairdus, house-father
  • Wis, 32, Go. whish
  • Wisan, 51, 56, Go. to be, was
  • Wit-an, 27, 51, 255, Go. wit, wot, Sc. wat, Ger. wissen
  • Wite, -id-weit-jan, 30, 206, Go. to reproach, A.S. aet-witan, ed-witan, from Go. weit-jan, to give one the wite (Sc.) or blame, and witan, to know, Du. wijten, to blame. Twit from M.E. at-witen. Wite keeps the or. long vowel

"Nae man can wyte me wi' theft."

"Rob Roy."

​
  • Withon, 14, Go. to shake, cf. Ger. Wedel, tail or tip of a fan; akin to Go. waian, to blow, wave, wind
  • Without, 90, for unless
  • Withra, 48, 216, Go. against, withstand, A.S. withre, M.E. wither, resistance, E. withers
  • Witoda-fasteis, 27, Go. scribe, lawyer, witoth, the law, and fastan, to fast
  • Witoda-laisareis, 27, Go. teacher of the law. Go. witoth, a law, from witan, to know, and laisjan, to teach
  • Witters, 154, withers. Not in Jam.
  • Wlappit, 53, wrapt, folded, lapwing, lapper, lappel, lappet, from Go. walwjan, to roll
  • Wleiz-s, 18, Go. countenance, anda-wleizns, and, against, and wlitan, to look, Ger. Antlitz, M.E. anleth, A.S. white, brightness, beauty. Go. wlisjan, to smite in the face
  • Wlispyt, 61, Barb. lisped
  • †Wludja, 17, Go. the countenance, is mistake in text for ludja, a var. of wlits. See wleiz-s
  • Wochen-bett, 205, C. Du. See kraam
  • Wods, 32, Go. wôds, mad, Shak. wood, A.S. wód, Du. woede, Ger. Wuth. Or. sense of divine frenzy is in Woden, Odin, and Lat. vates, a seer
  • Wôk, 11, Go. pret. of wakan, to wake, watch, us-wakjan, to wake from sleep, Ger. wachen
  • Won't can come, 169, Cu. idiom
  • Wopjan, whoop, 30, Go. weep, Eng. whoop. Or. sense of weep was an outcry, lament
  • Words and phrases, 197
  • Words for relationship, 194
  • Wort, 26, 48, E. root. See waurtja
  • Worth, 48, obs. E.; Go. wairthan, A.S. weorthan, Du. worden, Ger. werden, to become
  • Wrack, 145, weeds piled up for burning, sea-weed, E. var. of wreck, Da. vrag, wreck, Ic. raqa, to throw away, raaga, drift weed
  • Wrig, 133, 140, youngest of a litter or brood, Ic. raqa, to throw away as refuse. See wrack
  • Writer, 72, chamber lawyer
  • Wroh-jan, 30, Go. to accuse, from wrohs, an accusation, Ger. rügen, to censure, Ic. †vraegja, A.S. wregan, E. be-wray
  • Wud, 32 mad, furious
  • Wuldor, 52, A.S. glory, praise. Go. wulthus
  • Wulfs, 251, Go.; E. wolf
  • Wup, 33, to bind round with cord, E. whip, Go. weipan, to wreathe, wip-jo, a crown. Root, vi. to bind
  • Wurr, wuz, wiz-na, 51, 73, 74, 91, 168, for were
  • Wurr'm, 80, worm
  • Wyce, wise, 97, 106. See weiss
  • Wyliecoat, 182, Cu.
  • Wyrd, 23, fate. See weird

Y

  • Yaar, 148. In Jam. as "Yaur (red), species of fucus used by children for painting their faces." Attrib. to Newhaven fishermen
  • Yammer, 151, 221, C. Du. jaumer, or. yell, var. whimper

"While the bairns wi' murnin' yammer
Roun' their sabbin mither flew."

Alex. Wilson.

  • Yclept, 84, O.E. p. part, of obs. verb clypian, to call
  • Yea, 48, 56, A.S. geo, E. yea. Go. ja, jai, jah
  • Yeld, 68, 132, a cow with milk dried up, Ic. gelde, giving no milk, Sw. gall, barren, Ger. gelf, said of a cow. Klüge gives the older Ger. form, gi-alt, as if from alt. See geld
  • Yellow-yite, 124, 156, yellow-yorlin, yellow-hammer, yellow yoldrin. "No cross reference to yeldrin, and here, in small type, yellow-yite, the commonest name." (J. B. F.)
  • Yorlin or Yarlin, 156. Prof. Cooper often heard these rhymes—

"Yallow, yallow, yarlin,
Drink a drap o deil's blood
Ilka May mornin'."

  • He adds the note that boys hated this bird, and used to stone it. This was a very widely diffused bit of folk-lore, a survival of the early legend that Judas Iscariot ​was transformed into the bird, perhaps due to the yellow gaberdine of the Mediæval Jew
  • Yett, 62, var. of gate
  • Yird, yirdit, 49, buried—Erde, var. of earth
  • Yirp, 248, Bu. act of fretting, yirpin, fretful
  • Yiss, 78, yes. Highland speaker
  • Yode, 34, O.E. went
  • "Yokin, a," 34, "he yokit on me." Jam. to engage in a quarrel; var. of yoke, to join, Go. waurda jinka, wordy strife
  • Yon, 51, Go. jains, that, jaind, jaindre, yonder, Ger. jener
  • Yooer, 177, 178, udder, in form like Du. uijer, North, yure, Ger. euter, like udder, follows the Teut. type udra
  • Young, juggs. Go., 53, Ger. jung
  • Yowe, 21, ewe, Lat. ovis. Go. awi-s, awi-str, awi-thi
  • Yuckie, 153, itchy, also prov. E.; Du. jeuken, Ger. jucken, to itch

Z

  • Zuipen, 210, Du. See seap, sijp
  • Zwaar, 209, C. Du.; Sc. sweer, in slightly different sense, comp. zwaarder

¤¤¤Dr. Wm. Craigie, co-editor of "New English Dictionary," in a note to me, says, with reference to p. 5 of the text, where tun is compared with Go. tains and tain-jo, "Connexion between tún and tains is very doubtful, as the vowels do not belong to the same series." Again, with regard to the parallel, p. 14, between whet and white (a stick), "The former represents O.E. hwettan and the latter O.E. thwitan. The older form of whittle is thwitel, and Sc. whang=thong, early thwang."

It is but fair to say that Dr. Craigie has seen only the first sheet or two of the text.

​

SCOTO–FRENCH SECTION

The head word is always Scots; the French follows. Meanings will be found in the text. A few words have been introduced here though they have not been included in the text, but these are distinguished by the absence of any reference.

The Glossary is intended to be taken as a whole, so that a word not found in the one section may be looked for in the other.

A

  • Abillzeaments, 236, habillement
  • Accrese, accresce, accress, 239, accroissement
  • Aiver, 21, 71, horse, goat, &c., O.F. aveir, avoir, property, "having," E. aver-age.—N.E.T).
  • Allya, 228, 235, allié
  • Ashet, 239, assiette
  • Aumous, 242, almesse, alms
  • Awal, 65, 189, awald, of a sheep lying helpless on its back, avaler, F. to gulp down, descend, Lat. ad vallem, O.F. avaler, to descend, fall (Spenser)
  • Awmrie, 235, 242, aumônerie; aumry, chest, O.F. aumoiren, Lat. armarium, depôt of arms

B

  • Babies, 231, babiole, It. babbeo, bauble, babble, "a pet form of babe from common root"
  • Babuttis, 230, bibs, Fr. bavette
  • Backet, bucket, 66, 68, 155, 209, in saut-backet, dim. of back, Du. bak, trough, tub, F. bac, ferry-boat, dim. baquet
  • Bain, 66, 156, 209, Sc. a bucket, F. bain, It. bagno, Lat. balneum, bath, obsc. E. N.E.D. tub, Jam. boin, boyen, bine, washing tub
  • Bajan, bejant, 75, 240, first-year student, bajan, F. bec-jaune, yellow beak, Ger. Gelb-Schnabel
  • Banns, 74, same as ban, a proclamation, F. ban, Med. Lat. bannum
  • Barley, 240, parley, parler
  • Bases, 236, base, "app. an E. application of base, 'bottom' to a short skirt from waist to knee."—N.E.D.
  • Bass, a door-mat, Sc.–F. base, M.E. has, baas, basse
  • Bavard, 230, F. baveur
  • †Bawbee, 240, has billon. This origin questioned in N.E.D.
  • Bawsent, bawson, 223, O.F. bauzan, It. balzano, Lat. balteus=striped with white
  • Beaver, 240, bevoir
  • Begyte, 150, Sc. foolish, "nasty begoyt creature," Bff. Fr. bigaut, ass or fool.—Jam.
  • †Bicker, 237, 238, bitch. M. Amours says, "I do not think F. becquée has anything to do with bitch or bicker." He notes, also, that "les trois Rois" refers to Twelfth Night or Epiphany (Jan. 6)
  • Bilgets, 238, O.F. billete, billets.
  • Boge, 230, bougie.
  • Boise, 233, O.F. busse, buss, a fishing-boat, Du. buis
  • Bonet, 233, O.F. bonet
  • Bonnie, 97, bonne, fair
  • Bools, 127, 238, Sc; F. boule, Lat. bulla, a bubble, a round thing.—N.E.D.
  • Boss, of a shield, 207; cf. emboss, F. bosse
  • Bowie, 68, a milk-bowl, Sc. milk dish, usually referred to F. buie, but possibly dim. of bowl ​
  • Brace, 240, bras, O.F. brace, bras, width of the two arms
  • Brash, in water-brash, 139, F. brèche, broken stuff.—Imp. D.
  • Brisket, 66, 201, Sc. chest, meaning and apparent form identical with Fr. brechet
  • Bruit, 234, brute, bruit
  • Bruttit, 236
  • Buist, 231, 235, 237, O.F. bostia, boîte
  • Bowet, 240
  • Butry, 240, biitor, a dull fellow
  • Buye, 230, buie

C

  • Cadie, 242, cadet, Lat. capitatus
  • Caisse, 233, O.F. casse, F. châsse, Lat. capsa
  • Callandis, 118, 229, callants, Du. kalant, a customer, F. chaland, prob. borr. from Du.
  • Calsey, 169, 237, 242, causey, chaussée, late Lat. calceata, stamped with the heel
  • Caprus, 233, copperas, couperose, Diez's cupri rosa, more prob. cuprosa, short for aqua c.=copper water, Ger. Kupfer-Wasser, and "assoc. with rose merely an etym. fancy."–N.E.D.
  • Capitane, 236, O.F. capitaine
  • Castocks=chou-stocks, 68, 242, chou
  • Certes, certie, 240, certes. "In 'my certies, my certie,' the word may be identical with certes, M.E. and O.F., but history of the phrase not clear."—N.E.D.
  • Chaffing, 231, chauffer
  • Chamer, chaumer, 229, chambre.
  • Chandlers, 231, 232, O.F. chandelier, chandelle
  • Chapelet, 233, Chapeau
  • Chesbol, 236, the poppy, caisse. "In Prompt. Parv. cheese-bowl, but confounded with chibol, F. ciboule, Lat. cæpulla, onion bed, cæpa, onion."—N.E.D.
  • †Cheetie-pussie, 68, 135, 240, chat. Prob. not from chat, but a mere call
  • Chicknawd, 234, chiquenaude
  • Chirurgeon, 238, O.F. cirurgien. The pron. ch=k is modern
  • Choffer, 235
  • Chyres, 232, O.F. cha-iè-re, chaire in eccles. sense, Lat. cathedra
  • Cissills, 232, O.F. cisel, F. ciseau, Lat. cædo, to cut
  • Close, 240, clos
  • Cog, 68, bucket; prob. same as cog, or cock-boat, O.F. cogue, Ic. kug-gr, a ship.—N.E.D.

"I gie them a skelp as they're creepin'
Wi' a cog o' guid swats."—"Auld Sang."

  • Coggie, 160, dim.
  • Condie, 120, 172, 240, conduit, F. conduire
  • Contigue, 239, contigue
  • Corbie, 242, corbeau, O.F. corb, corbin, corbel
  • Corf, 229, corbeille
  • Cowe, 68, Jam. cow, twig, broom, besom (curler's), O.F. coe, F. queue
  • Cracklins, cracknel, 130, F. craque-lin, or a var. of Du. krakeling, crackle
  • Cramoisie, cramasie, 229, cramoisi
  • Creesh, 68, 81, grease, 63, O.F. craisse=graisse, fat, Lat. crassus, grassus, Gael, créis.
  • Crusie, 135, F. creuset, crucible; O.F. cruseul, creuseau, craicet, E. cresset
  • Cry, 87, écrier
  • Cummers, 74, 121, 205, 240, F. commère
  • Curchessis, 230, O.F. couvrechés, pl. of couvrechef
  • Custock, 68, 242, kale stock, cabbage stalk, chou, Lat. caulis

D

  • Deas, deece, 155, generally a long seat or bench, O.F. deis, F. dais, Lat. discus, a quoit, later Lat. a table
  • Delaverly, 153, Bff.; O.F. delivre, free, at liberty, obsc.—N.E.D. M.E. delaverly, in an overflowing manner.—E.D.D. "That Mr. Waverley looks clean made and deliver."—Scott
  • Devald, deval, 153, Bff.; North, stopped, left off, F. devaler, to descend, devall, to cease. "The ​last of the old Dukes of Gordon used to quote the saying in the text here as said by one of his farmers in the Cabrach on a wet season."—Prof. Cooper
  • Disjonis, disjune, 230, 235, déjeûner, Lat. jejunus, fasting
  • Dite, 239, O.F. dit, saying. "After 1500 only Sc."—N.E.D.
  • Dornick, 230, cloth of Tournay
  • Douce, 242, doux, O.F. dols, Lat. dulcis, sweet
  • Dour, 97, 242, North. F. dur, hard
  • Dresser, 1, 155; O.F. dresseur, F. dressoir, Med. Lat. directorium
  • Drogs, 238, drogues—in use in 14th c.; or. uncertain
  • Dule-weid, 106, 230, weed of deuil
  • Dool, dole, 242, O.F. doel, Lat. dolium, grief
  • Dusty-foot, 184, Sc.–Fr. trans, of pie poudreux, pede pulverosus=pie-powder
  • Dyvour, 72, 115, 240, 242, devoir, "or. uncert.—may be same as diver=drowned in debt."—N.E.D.

E

  • †Eglantine, 26, last syll. not conn. with tine, Go. tains, as given in text, but from O.F. aiglantier, L. Lat, aculentus, prickly
  • Entress=enter and -ess, after duresse, largesse, "chiefly Sc.—right to enter."—N.E.D.
  • Essay, 236, essaie
  • Essonyie, 33, essoin, Go. sunja, trath, sunjôu, to excuse (may be O.H.G.), O.F. essoyner, from ex and sonia, sunnis, lawful excuse.—N.E.D.
  • Evite, 239, éviter, Lat. evitare. "In 18th–19th c. almost peculiar to Sc. writers"—N.E.D.
  • Exeem, 239, exempter, Lat. eximere. "Chiefly Sc."—N.E.D.
  • Exerce, 239, O.F. exercer, Lat. exercere; "Chiefly Sc."—N.E.D.
  • Exoner, 239, exonérer, Sc. law term
  • Expede, 239, expédier, Sc. law term

F

  • Fagots, 135, 182, F. bundle of sticks. In Cumb. faggot is a term of reproach, corroborating the Campbeltown interpretation given in the text. N.E.D. has, "a term of abuse app. to a woman"
  • Fascherie, fachous, fashous, 86, 97, 240, O.F. fascherie, facheux, fâcheux, fâcher:—

"Troth, Caesar, whiles they're fashed eneuch."—"Twa Dogs."

  • Fattrels, 240, O.F. fatraille, fatras=things of no value
  • Fent, 240, f ente, Lat. findere, to split
  • Fleggearis, 230, flèche
  • Fond, foond, 238, fond, foundation; superseded in 18th c. by fund, Lat. fundus
  • Foy, 208, O.Du. foey, a compact, from foi, faith, covenants being confirmed by eating and drinking together
  • Frenges, 232, 238, O.F. frenge, frange, Lat. fimbria, border
  • Fushonless, 186, 240, foison

G

  • Gabarts, 232, cappers, gabare
  • Gadge, 238, O.F. gauge, F. jauge
  • Gag, 127, 155, 240, gage, also gig, geg; pledge in security, F. gage, var. of wage, wed, O.F. g(u)age, Go. wadja. Fife term in boys' game, "smoogle the gag," elsewhere, as in the West, pronounced "geg." The Glasgow term, "gegg," a trick, quoted in N.E.D., but not now so used, may be a var. of geek, begeck, in sense of hoax, play a trick on, and therefore not connected with "gag," "geg."—N.E.D.
  • Gansel, gansald, gansallin, 136, 140, insolent retort, prop, garlic sauce for goose, O.F. ganse aillie, later, gance d'aulx, in same sense; ail is garlic. Kl. "Ger günsel, from Lat. consolida, which name the old herbalists applied to all healing plants"
  • Ganzeis, 230, arrows, prob. contr. of engin; of. Burns's "gin-horse." "Obsc. or.—an Ir. gainne of similar meaning, but word not known in O.F."—N.E.D. ​
  • Gawkie, 242, gauche. "Of difficult etym., conn. with gauche has grave difficulties."—N.E.D.
  • Geans, 127, wild cherry, O.F. guigne
  • Gey, 74, intensive, very, tolerable, middling, var. of gay, F. gai (from 12th c.)
  • Gloy, 62, Orc. straw ropes. Not in Jam. F. (dial.) glui, barley straw, prob. Flem. and N., and thus came to Sc.

"Quhais rufis laitly full rouch thykyt war,
Wyth stra or gloy by Romulus the wycht."

Doug. Aen., 8, 11, 31.

  • Giglot, 137, a romping girl, F. gigelot (14th c.), conn. with giggle
  • Girnel, 135, garnel, sp. Sc. a bin for corn, meal, or salt, influenced by F. grenaille, refuse corn, O.F. grenier, Lat. granarium
  • Gote, 172, goat, a ditch, water-way, O.F. gote, gouttière, gutter
  • Gree, 242, O.F. gré, Lat. gradus, a step.
  • Grogram, 231, gros-grain
  • Grozets, 127, 240, grossarts, groser, grozart, sp. Sc. gooseberry, F. groseille, with r for l
  • Gusty, 242, goût

H

  • Hallion, halones, 160, idle, worthless fellow; or. uncert. Cf. F. haillon, rag.— N.E.D.
  • Hashy, 151, untidy, hash, something cut up into small pieces—verb, to hash; F. hacher, hache, hatchet
  • †Haverel, 240, poisson d'avril
  • Hogmanay, 104, last day of the year, cake-day; obsc. but app. of F. origin.—N.E.D.
  • Hotch, 178, 242, Du. hotsen, to jog, jolt, Ger. dial. hotzen, F. hocher, to shake.— N.E.D.

"To pay the bygane towmont's rent,
John Doo cam hotchin' east."

  • Hurcheon, 234, hérisson

J

  • Jambs, 135, 240, 241, sides of a fireplace, as if legs, jambe, F.; Gael. camb, crooked; late Lat. gamba, hoof, leg
  • Jigot, 241, gigot
  • Joctelegs, 242, Jacques de Liege
  • Joist, 241, O.F. gîste

L

  • Lettron, 238, lutrin, O.F. letrin
  • Lowe, 53, 234, allouer
  • Lozen, 139, var. of lozenge, F. losange

M

  • Maister, 134, 209, maître
  • Mashlum, mazlin, 183, coarse cake made of mixed grains, O.F. mesteil, F. méteil, Du. masteluin, Lat. mistus, mixed
  • Mell, mall, 133, Shet., a broad fist, mason's mallet, cog. with maul and with F. mail
  • Mell, 242, mêler
  • †Messan, 183, Jam. from Messina or F. maison, N.E.D. prob. a house, Gael. meas-an, meas-chu, a lap-dog
  • Mishanter, 92, corr. of misadventure, O.F. mesaventure

"For nivver syne ever they ca'd as they came,
Did sic a mishap and mishanter befa' me."

  • Mooter, multure, 70, mill-fee for grinding corn, O.F. molture, F. mouture, Lat. molitura
  • Mowles, 234, mule
  • Mummers, 104, actors in dumb show, "F. mommeur, prob. of Teut. or.=mum."— N.E.D.
  • Muntar, 237, montre

N

  • Nappie, 198, ale, prop, a wooden bowl, A.S. hnaep, Du. nap, a drinking cup, O.F. hanap. Low Lat. hanapus, E. hanaper, hamper
  • Nottar, 238, notaire

O

Oblissis, oblischement, 236, 239, obliger ​

  • Olfend, 21, A.S. camel, O.F. olifant, elephant, M.E. olifaunt, Go. ulubandus
  • Oralog, 229, horloge
  • Osill, 234, oiseau

P

  • Pace, 241, peser
  • Paitrick, 124, 234, partridge, perdrix
  • Palmer, 104, tawse, ferula, pawmie, Lat. palma, F. paume
  • Panse, 237, panser
  • Pantonis, 229, 234, patin, a skate
  • Parish, pairish, 241, paroisse
  • Parsell, 234, persil, parsley
  • Pasch, 15, 186, 229, Pâque for Pasque, Go. Paska=Easter
  • Passments, 233, passementerie
  • Pauchlin, 212. Jam.—Under bachle, a pendicle, O.F. bachle, as much land as twenty oxen could plough in an hour
  • Pawmie, 134, paume, Lat. palma
  • Pawrlies, 130, parlies, var. of parliament cake, parler
  • Peevor, 127, paveur, F., syn. with pealall, girl's game
  • Pend, 241, pendre
  • Pery, 238, pirouette
  • Petticoat-tails, 241, petits gateaux
  • Pie-powder, 184. See dusty foot
  • Plack, copper coin=4d., Sc, introd. by Fleming's plaque, a "metal dish"
  • Plash, 173, Cu. to trim a hedge, to intertwine branches, O.F. plaissier, Lat. plectere, cog. pleach.—Shak.
  • Plumbe damies, 232, prune de damas
  • Poopit, 73, Sc. pulpit, Fr. pupître
  • Popinjay, 241, papegai, papingo, from O.F. papegau
  • Pottage, 85, 235, potage
  • Pouches 123, poche
  • Protticks, 84, Sc.
  • Prattick, 93, Gael. Jam. prattik, F. pratique, astrology
  • Provost, 80, O.F. prevost, prévôt, Lat. præpositus, a prefect
  • Puppettis, puppie, 231, 241, poupée
  • Pursie, 234, pourcif, for M.F. poussif

R

  • Ribbet, dressed corner-stones in a building; raboter, to plane
  • Rose, a watering-can, arroser, lit. to bedew. "Gang and rooser the claise on the green."—Gr.

S

  • Saim, 130, sayme, prov. E. seam, lard, fat; Lat. sagina, fatness, F. sain. It. saime
  • Sasine, 73, Sc. law term, O.F. saisir, saisine, L. Lat. sacire, to put in possession, seised—Shak.
  • Say, 230, soie
  • Sconce, 202, E.—"a small fort, Da. skandse, Ger. Schanze, a fort, prob. O.F. esconser, to hide"—Sk. See sconce
  • Scoryettis, 237, O.F. escorcher. "6 buistis scrotcheitis and confectis presentit to my Lord Duke Chatterlhaut in this town."—"Glasgow Records," 1574
  • Servet, 235, serviette
  • Siedge, 235, siège; a seat.—Spenser
  • Sklate, 241, éclater
  • Sorn, 69, 201, to sponge upon, sornin, sponging, sorners, parasites, O.F. sorner, to cheat, sournois, malicious. It. sornione, a sneak
  • Sowder, 234, soother, soudure
  • Spaul, 241, épaule
  • Stoep, 25, 188, 207, C. Du. étape, a halting place
  • Stour, 56, dust (of battle), O.F. estour, Teut. or.
  • Suker, 232, sucre
  • Suldarts, 234, soldart
  • Suplee, 239, supplèer
  • Sybows, 241, ciboule, O.F. cibo, Lat. cepa; cf. chesbol, a poppy
  • Syer, 238, O.F. essuier, esuer

T

  • Taffetas, 230, taffetaa. "Ane hand senyie (Fr. enseigne) of talfitie of the tounes cullouris."—"Stirling Records," 1622 ​
  • Tailzeour, 92, 230, teelyir, tiler, teilleur
  • Tap, 238, toupie
  • Tansy, 148, O.F. tanasie, athanasie, Gr. ἀθανασία, immortality. Not in Jam.
  • Tapischere, 230, tapisserie
  • Tarre, 69, tirran, Orc. to cross, provoke. Under "tarry," Skeat shows it is due to confusion of M.E. tarien, to irritate, and M.E. targen, to delay, from O.F. targer, Mod. F. tarder, L. Lat. tardicare, tardus, slow. We also find O.F. tarier, to vex. Cf. O.Sc. targe, to beat, rate severely. "Tarveal, fretful."—"Elgin K. S. Records"
  • Tassis, 230, tasse
  • †Tawpie, 136, 242, taupe; French or. doubtful
  • Thrammels, thrammel, 147, stall-fastening of a cow, E. trammel, F. tramail, a net, Sc. trammel-net
  • Tincler, 232, étinoelle
  • Tirlets, 236, tirailler
  • Tooly, toolye, tulzie, 107, 184, 241, Cu. combat, a quarrel, broil. Jam. O.F. touiller, to mix
  • Toy, 243, toque. Da hoved-toi, headdress
  • Trances, 135, 146, a passage inside a house, F. transe
  • Travelloure, 232, 236, travailleur
  • Trebuchet, 232, trébuchet
  • Trencher, 231, 235, tranchoir
  • Truncheor, 235
  • Treviss, 131. 140, 176, 241, O.F. tref, Lat. trabs, a beam
  • Triacle, treckle, 234, triacle, "treacle," Cot., Mod. F. thériaque
  • Tripans, 231, trépan
  • Trockit, 151, bartered, F. troquer, to barter, E. truck
  • Turcusses, 231, O.F. torser
  • Tureen, 241, terrine
  • Turse, 231, O.Fr. trusser, torser (Lat. tortiare, to twist, bind up); cf. tirr
  • Turner, 241, tournois
  • Tweel, 241, toile
  • Twis, 230, étui

V

  • Vacations, 128, long holidays at school, Fr. vacance
  • Valour, 236, valeur
  • †Vie, 23. Not, as in text, conn. with Go., but contracted from O.F. envie, M.F. envier, Lat. invitare

I have to thank Mons. F. J. Amours, B.A., for carefully revising the foregoing section (Sc. Fr.) in the light of his exceptional knowledge of old and modern French as well as of Lowland Scots.

printed by william green and sons, edinburgh.

  1. ↑ Words not found here may be looked for in the Sc.-Fr. Section. The Indo-Ger. cognates (246-256) have not been entered here except as regards their Sc. or Go. elements.
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