THE JEWELLER’S WINDOW

Press, Volume CI, Issue 29714, 6 January 1962, Page 8

THE JEWELLER’S WINDOW

[Specially written for “The Press" by ARNOLD WALL]

Professor Arnold Wall, in the present series of articles, discusses the origin of many familiar names, expressions, and phrases. He wishes to make it clear that he cannot undertake to reply personally to readers who may comment on any of them. This article is the twenty-first of the series.

Walking in a Derbyshire town I am approached by a woman who has a letter to post to “Munchester” and as she has no “stump” she asks for one. When I supply her need she says ‘‘thunks, ye’re a dook.” That is how we use the name of the bird, a term of affection: a barmaid will call you “ducky” on any slight provocation. But the Frenchman will no* use “canard” in that way; to him it means a false rumour, a hoax. This is variously explained According to the best French authority it comes from an old phrase “to sell a duck and a half.” “un canard a moitie.” As this is no sale it came to mean a hoax. In English we have a few idioms deriving from the duck. ‘‘Ducks and drakes” is the old term for the throwing of flat stones to skip along the water, and hence to squander one's money, to throw it away. A lame duck was the stockjobber who could not pay his losses, a London city usage. The “duck” in cricket was at first the duck’s egg for an obvious reason. This dates from 1868. nearly a 100 years ago. The Bombay duck is not a true duck but a corrupt form of the name of an Indian fish. “Lord love a duck” is a London slang expletive dating from 1823 but how this odd expression developed or derived nobody seems to know. The verb to duck is no relation of the bird. • So much for the duck’s name, now how about it's nature? The duck has no great reputation for intelligence but my father’s account of one which policed his poultry-yard in Ceylon gave evidence of both brains and a sense of rectitude. It was nicknamed Pacifex because whenever squabbles arose among the fowls it Intervened and kept the peace. Not only that, when a weakly fowl was bullied by the others and could not get its share of the grain, Pacifex stood by and saw to it that it got its fair share. It remains to say something of the duck’s husband, the drake. There have been two "drakes” in English. One was the Old English name for the dragon “draca” which became “drake” in later times and this was a borrowed word from Latin “draco.” The other, the present-day “drake" is supposed to have lost its first syllable and to have been formerly “endrake” where “end” meant “duck.” The second element was possibly

*’ —ric” meaning “rule” or “realm" which we have in such old names as Theodoric. Endric and Richard, but this is doubtful. Somehow “drake” never seems to me an appropriate name for the mate of the motherly, comfortable and homely duck who is beloved both on and off the table. Wanganui Whare Some of the wicked mispronunciations of Maori names by the pakeha may some day be corrected; one. however. I feel sure, never will. When a is preceded by w or wk we pronounce it, in English, as o except when it is followed by k or the hard g; so we say “wosh,” “whot,” “squash” “wosh.” “whot.” “squosh” and so on but we don’t say “quock” or “wog" for “quack” or “wag." Now we cannot get this habit of speech out of our minds so that we pronounce a in Maori words as o when it is preceded by w or wh. To us “want” spells “wont” but when Professor Lee devised the Maori spelling he Jid not mean “wak” speit “woek” ,as we say it in “Wakatipu:”) no, he used "a” consistently for the sound which we spell with u as in “up.” The Maori short a sounded like that to the early settlers, they spelt “whata” as they heard it “futah.” We should therefore pronounce “whare” very like “worry” but with wh instead of w. Shall we ever be persuaded to do this? Not a hone. "Wokker. tip,” ’ ' “Wokkerreewer-ree-wer.” “Wonggernewy,” there we go I

“Imphm”

“That useful word imphm" says the Scottish song. The Scots are a bold race and so far as I know they are the only people who have dared to devise a spelling of “that useful word.” No dictionary recognises it as a word at all.

If I were a lexicographer (which heaven forbid!) and had to include and define it what could I say? Something like this, I suppose—an expression of doubt, deliberation or interrogation produced by closing the glottis and, with mouth closed also, uttering two syllabic hums on a higher and a lower note in quick succession. Its relations are the English “um,” “m-m,” interrogative or deliberative, the American “uh,” and the French "hein,” Now what part of speech must it be? Oviously an interjection. But really it hovers between the true parts of speech and those animal noises which human beings produce under extreme pressure—screams, groans, rears and gurgles which cannot be thought of as elements of speech.