VERBAL SLIPS.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 16218, 24 August 1918, Page 8

VERBAL SLIPS.

SOME AMUSING EXAMPLES. Wb dll make them. Some of ns are never done making tbom. .Pile results are occasionally amusing; more frequently they nro embarrassing. Here is an insbanco of recent occurrence, which brought mortification upon tho principal oi a. well-known gills school. Entering a city car one day, she glanced casually at the man .sitting opposite. She instantly recognised a gentleman who had frequently called at her school in connection with his two little girls.' She confidently bowed, and murmured, “How d’you do; Tho man responded politely, out looked surprised. Warned by his expression, slie regarded him more closely, and realised it was a pardonable case of mistaken identity. She, had blundered • she felt that apology and explanation were necessary. Leaning forward, she said distinctly enough for most of the other travellers to hear, “I beg your pardon ; I made a mistake. 1 thought vou wore the father of two of ray girls.'” The plan’s greater astonishment warned her of her greater; blunder. In burning confusion .she quitted the car to avoid arrest as a lunatic at large. But even Homer nods. Tho great ones of earth make verbal slips. This is balm to those of us who occasionally blunder. Alfred Austin succeeded Alfred Tennyson as Foot Laureate. Now, tho relation of Austin toTennyson was as moonlight unto sunlight, as water unto wine. Austin's critics pointed out that the now Laureate, was the man who had sung of the British flag flying “as inflexible as Fate,” of a British sceptre that would “never fade,” and of Queen Victoria ns dying and leaving "a widowed world ” Of course, the Laureate could have pointed to other groat names, if not oquallv great sinners. Kipling’s famous line," “The tumult and the shouting dies” was challenged by the critics f on° the ground that “tumult” and i “shouting” were not sufficiently similar to justify their use as a singular nominative. Hogg’s immortal Scotch song. “When the Kye Comes Home.” would be spoiled if the verb were made plural, as it ought'to bo, since .“Kye” is the plural of cow. Then Tom Moore refuses to ask the brave soldier who fights by his side in the cause of mankind if their creeds agree; "shall I give up the friend I have valued and. tried if he bcht not before the same altar as mo?” When the literary Titans slip so glaringly, we pygmies may claim to sport under their .shadow. Wo all count among our friends some of those warm-hearted, well-meaning persons who keep us in constant terror as to what they will say next. Every conversational stop they take is marked by some slip, but, quite unconsciously, they go their way rejoicing. On the other hand, some people do not verbally slip; they verbally sin. They are conversational criminals. They are people who pride themselves on always 'speaking their mind. People who speak their mind have always disagreeable minds. When a man begins to address yon with the words, “I am going to ispeak my mind,” you can look out; you are not about to receive a compliment. Children have been cruelly libelled in this matter. Certainly most people have suffered agonies from the child that talks at table. But it ought to be placed upon record that while children may be most easily forgiven, they are really not tho most ready to offend. A sense of verbal artistry reveals itself amazingly early in some children. They seem to recognise and to shrink from a verbal solecism instinctively. _Ono teacher recently saw a tiny pupil in tears. Inquiry elicited nothing; but the little girl sitting next said, “Please, ma’m, Mabel has a pain in her pinafore.” As a euphemism that was most praiseworthy. It is certain many grownups could not have indicated the region of a similar pain with equal delicacy and precision. Another small boy was less successful with the remark that he had “a headache down here.” A healthy fear rather than verbal fastidiousness inspired one little fellow lately in a suburban home. Ho had been punished for using a familiar but naughty word. Two days later he encountered it in a spelling lesson he was having from mother. He was going through the familiar process of h-a-m, ham ; c-a-m, cam; d-a-m.” He paused. “Yes, dear,” said mother, encouragingly, and forgetful of recent discipline. Ha tried again. “D-h-m, dam—mill pond, dam,” he added, with lightning speech, to avert dread consequences. Of course it is possible to create occasions for slipping. Over fastidiousness becomes a disease. It seems impossible to speak in certain people’s presence‘without offending their sens© of propriety. IV. S. Gilbert recognised the danger of offending “some people’s auricular; since what might please B would quite scandalise C, for G is so very particular.” These are the people who think it indelicate to refer to the “leg” of a table; they never mention a “naked” eye, they prefer “nude” truth to “bare” truth. It must be nice to feel that you are so refined, but you are a great nuisance to your bours. People who speak much must slip often. A cricketing parson ended the reading one Sunday with tho words, “Here endeth the second innings.”. Another parson began a meeting with, “My clear friends—for I know you all too well to call you ladies and gentlemen.” One nervous man proposed the toast of Bride and Bridegroom, and hoped “they would see many another happy day like this.” IVe have all said worse things and never noticed them until they wore pointed out Phrases grow old-fashioned as surely as clothes. Elderly people cling to words familiar forty years ago, but now deemed impolite. When father comes out -with some very proper but homely word tho family feel quite embarrassed and give him a wigging when the visitors have gone. Yet tho seniors are expected to tolerate and to see beauty in “Awfully jolly,” “Awfully rotten,” “Utterly putrid,” which are the chief verbal stock in trade of the newer generation. _ . A verbal slip is regrettable, but pardonable. There is one factor attaching to it, however, which is quite unpardonable, because quite unavailing. Having made a slip, never try to recover. At all costs go on. Tho moment you realise you have made a bad one, keep your features calm—and go on.- This is where tho danger lurks. You may mako a slip and still bo a man of sense; you cannot explain a slin without proving yourself a fool. There is always the chance it hasn’t been noticed. Don’t draw attention to it. Tho Scotch have a maxim, "The more you tramp on mud the broader you mako it.” Remember the maxim tho next time you make a verbal slip.