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a score of instances of its use in this offensive way by English writers of respectable position; but I must save room and time.

The list under the letter J in the Dictionary is comparatively a short one; and it gives occasion for no remark other than that every word in it might properly be omitted from a collection such as this professes to be. One word which does not appear might well have had a place, because of a slight but interesting peculiarity in its spelling, and because of its ambiguous position in the English vocabulary. I mean jewelry. The word is not in Johnson's dictionary, or in Latham's Johnson. The earliest example of its use yet presented by any dictionary maker or writer upon the English language is from Burke, in his speech at the trial of Warren Hastings, in 1788. Yet the word was used by Beaumont and Fletcher in The Faithful Friends, Act IV., Sc. 4, as well as by an earlier writer, as I shall show. It is spelled in two ways, jewellery and jewelry, the former of which is called the English way, and, according to my observation, is the one invariably found in English books printed since the time of Burke; the latter is called the American way. But the difference is not mere fashion; it has a meaning. Indeed jewellery and jewelry may be regarded as two words. The former is formed upon jeweller, and means the wares of the jeweller, like potter-y from potter, haberdasher-y from haberdasher, cutler-y from cutler, and mercer-y from mercer. The latter is formed upon jewel like armor-(r)y from armor, orange-ry from orange, spice-ry from spice, and butter-(r)y from butter, and means first the place where jewels are kept, and hence (by figure of speech, the containing being put for the contained), the contents of a jewelry, that is, a collection of jewels; and then, jewels in general. This I am able to prove by the following example of the use of the word at a date two centuries earlier than that known to the dictionary makers, and to those who undertook to canvass my comments on this word in Words and Their Uses:

"Out of my Treasury chuse the [thy] choyse of gold

Till thou finde some matching thy hayre in brightness;

But that will never be; so chuse thou ever. Out of my Jewelrye chuse thy choyse of Diamondes

Till thou find some as brightsome as thy eyes; But that will never be, so chuse thou ever." (Chapman, Blynde Beggar of Alexandria, produced 1595, published 1598.)

That the word is formed upon jewel, and means a jewelry, is shown less by its spelling than by the antithesis "out of my treasury," "out of my jewelry:" treasury, a place where treasure is kept; jewelry, a place where jewels are kept. This derivation and this meaning are supported by the contemporary definitions; first, by Florir, 1598, of givelleria as “a jewel-house;" next, by Minshen, 1599 (Dialogues in Spanish and English), of joyeria as "a place where they sell jewels." Jewelry, the so-called American spelling, seems therefore to be the correct form of the word, both historically and with regard to its proper significa

tion.

It is somewhat from my present purpose, but the mention of this early and unnoticed use of jewelry, probably its first appearance in English literature, reminds me of a like observation I have made as to the word club, in the sense of an association or habitual gathering of gentlemen. This word, the origin of which is undiscovered, came into vogue in the days and among the wits of Queen Anne. The earliest instance of its use hitherto known is Dryden's, in the Epistle to the Whigs, prefixed to his satire The Medal; and it has been supposed that the word came up about the time of the political schemes against which that satire was directed. I am able, however, to show that it was well known at least a quarter of a century before that day. Dryden's Medal was written and published in 1682. Now in 1660 one Clement Ellis published a book called The Gentile Sinner, the title having nothing to do with Gentiles as distinguished from Jews, but meaning merely the genteel sinner, i having then in most English words the sound that we now give to e. The book is simply a prose satire upon

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the ruffling gallant of the time, although it was written before the Restoration. In this book is the following passage: "For mine own part it hath very rarely been my Fortune to meet with a Club of Gentlemen; but as often as I have, I have been frighted out of it again or have good cause to repent me afterwards, that I was not so, by that wild kind of behaviour, and looseness of talk I heard or saw amongst them." (Lec. IV., § 2.)

Clement Ellis when he wrote this was Fellow of Queen's College, Oxford, and he, a man of mature years, and in this position, uses the word club as a matter of course, and mentions it as something remarkable that he has met with (that is, been at the meeting of) one but rarely. Plainly, therefore, club was used as Dryden used, and much as we use it, a considerable time before the Restoration. This use of it is probably of cavalier origin, and dates back to the days of the great civil war.

Under the letter K the first word (if word it may be called) that draws my attention is kerchug, which we are told means the noise made by popping into the water, and a little further on we have kelumpus, keslosh, kesouse, and keswollop, all with similar meanings; and we even have to kesouse, that the verb form may not be wanting! This is amazing. It only provokes a smile to see these childish imitative sounds gravely set forth as Americanisms of the English language. True, there is the βρεκεκεκεξ κοαξκοαξ οἱ Aristophanes, but brekekekex-koax-koax is not a Greek word, and no one would dream of so calling it. Still less would it be regarded as a solecism or a barbarism in the Greek language.

Keep. Under this word, simply or compounded, there is strange misrepresentation which seems to be the result of misapprehension. Keep as a noun, in the sense of maintenance, I feel sure that I have met with in the works of good English writers; but I shall not make the assertion positively, because I have not at hand and cannot remember any example of its use in that sense. But in any case (the verb keep, meaning to maintain, to support), the use of keep NO. 259.

VOL. XLIII.

43

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as a noun in the sense of maintenance, support, is perfectly normal English. In “Where do you keep? the phrases, "I keep in street," keep is not an abbreviation of "keep shop." Keep is and has for centuries been used in England to mean live, dwell. And so keeping room, meaning the common sitting room of a family, is no Americanism either in origin or by peculiar usage. It is common in various parts of England, notably so in Cambridge, where it is constantly heard among the undergraduates and the Fellows. The appearance of the phrase to keep company among Americans is one of the many surprises in this volume. No expression is more thoroughly English, or oftener heard from the lips of English people of humble condition. It even finds a place in Latham's dictionary, from which I borrow the following instance of its use in literary criticism:

"A virtuous woman is obliged not only to avoid immodesty, but the appearance of it; and she could not approve of a young woman['s] keeping company with men without the permission of father or mother." (Broome, Notes on the Odyssey.)

Kink. It is only to keep before my readers the unaccountable system upon which the Dictionary of Americanisms seems to have been formed that I take notice of this word, which appears in every English dictionary in the sense in which it is here set forth as an Americanism; which meaning is that given to it by Falconer in his Nautical Dictionary: "Kink, a twist or turn in any cable or other rope occasioned by its being very stiff or close laid," etc. Its figurative use to mean a powerful notion, a crotchet, is of course open to any English-speaking person, and is often heard in England. And as a rope may be kinky, so also may a wire be, or a hair.

Knock down is of all phrases!-set forth as an Americanism in meaning to end the bidding and assign a lot at auction by a blow on the counter. It is as common in England as auctions themselves. We shall next have town-crier set down as an Americanism. One slang,

or rather cant, sense of the phrase knock down, that of extorting money in some way or other, as, He knocked down all those men five dollars apiece, I have heard spoken of as an Americanism, but I doubt very much that it is so. Strike, which, with a like legitimate meaning, is very often used instead of it (I heard one man say of another, "He went about striking all the Broadway stores, and made a pile "), is, I know, very old English cant. For example:

"To borrow money is called striking, but the blow can hardly or never be recovered." (Essays and Characters of a Prison and Prisoners, by Geffray Mynshull of Grayes Inn, Gent., 1618. Of a Prison, 28.)

Knock-kneed. This compound word is solemnly defined, and a passage from Irving's Knickerbocker is quoted in illustration of its Americanism. The remark is added that "this is doubtless an English expression, although it is not in the dictionaries." But neither are brown-haired, gimlet-eyed, flop-eared, blubber-lipped, scrag-necked, long-eared, or mutton - headed in the dictionaries. Such compound words are made at will, they need no definition, and they ought not to be in dictionaries. As to the English use of knock-kneed, it so happened that the knees of the genuine Sir Roger Tichborne were affectionately inclined toward each other; and hence see the evidence given in the trial by witnesses of all classes:

66 He was inclined to be knock-kneed with his left leg." (Tichborne Trial, Evidence of Serg. Dunn.)

"He was a slight young man, so awkward in his walk that I could recognize him across the barrack yard. He was knock-kneed, more in one leg than in the other." (The same, Evidence of Serg. Quinn.)

"He was slightly in-kneed. He walked as if knock-kneed, the right leg being loose." (Charge of Chief - Justice in Tichborne Trial, Evidence of Mr. Page.)

-"he always struck her as being knock-kneed." (The same, Evidence of Mrs. Towneley, Sir Roger's cousin.)

"Roger was not in-kneed, but he had rather the appearance of being knockkneed, because he turned out his toes." (The same, Evidence of Lord Bellew.)

We shall next have long-shanked set down as an Americanism, notwithstanding the name given to the first Norman Edward by his English subjects more than six hundred years ago; for do we not find kit, meaning a man's baggage, here? and an officer's kit is a British army phrase generations old. Indeed, as to the items under K, it is only to be remarked that not one of them is a true Americanism, or has any claim whatever to a place in such a dictionary.

And now I must for a time turn away from Americanisms; not for the lack of material, or of evidence of interest on the part of my readers, but simply because other matters claim my attention. When I return to this I shall show as to the remaining part of the vocabulary of so-called Americanisms that it is even more thoroughly English than that which I have passed under view.

Dropping thus temporarily a subject upon which I am favored with many letters, I add a few words, which, being purely personal to myself, may of course be passed over entirely by most of my readers. Many of my correspondents. are in the habit of putting before or after my name certain letters or abbreviated words, with more or less complimentary intention. To these I would say, with thanks, that the additions in question are superfluous. I am not a doctor of laws, a reverend, a professor (of anything, even of religion); not having been elected to serve my party (because I have none) in any capacity, I have no claim to the title of honorable; nay, verily, I am not even a colonel. I have been addressed by all these titles, by some of them frequently, and I have had opportunities offered me of bearing them each and all. But, not unwillingly, I have hitherto escaped all manner of titling, and, except my university degree and my place at the bar, I remain what I became on the day when I was first carried out of the nursery, — plain

Richard Grant White.

THE CONTRIBUTORS' CLUB.

SINCE the readers of magazines and newspapers appear to take an especially kindly interest just now in the fortunes of literary men, and as my own have not been entirely uneventful, it has struck me that if, following the example of a recent writer in The Atlantic Monthly, I put some of my experiences into a narrative form, the editor may think it worth his while to print them.

I may as well say at starting that I belong to the old country, and that at this present writing I am living and following my calling on the continent of Europe. I was not educated for a literary career, nor did I adopt that career until somewhat late in life. Nevertheless, from my youth upwards I have had what are called literary aspirations, and before I was twenty I wrote many articles for an English country newspaper, and got thereby a considerable insight into the nature of newspaper work. This was all for love, however. Yet I had my reward: the sight of myself in print and the proud consciousness that my "leaders" formed a regular topic of discussion in the bar-parlor of the Brown Cow were more to me than many guineas. Alas for the innocent vanity of those vanished days! This vernal pleasure was not of long duration. Circumstances that I was unable to resist forced me into ways of life for which I was ill fitted, and with which the pursuit of literature was altogether incompatible. For years the only writing I did was the writing of commercial letters, and the only articles which I had to offer were articles of trade. At length good fortune, rather than my own efforts, released me from this thralldom, and I was free to attempt the climbing of Parnassus. I resolved first of all to make myself a journalist. But how? When I looked over the advertisements in the Athenæum and saw how many clever fellows, men who could write anything at a moment's notice, from a "five-line paragraph" to

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en.

This I did, and besides studying assiduously, especially the German language and literature, I read the newspapers and kept my eyes open.

One day an event occurred that gave me an opportunity for which I had been long watching. An Englishman, quite innocent of offense, fell into the hands of the police of the city in which I was living, and was brutally maltreated. I wrote an account of the affair and sent it to an English paper. My letter had a great success; it was quoted far and wide. I followed it up with others, and so became an acknowledged and paid correspondent of the paper in question. The pay was a guinea a column, but as the columns were short and narrow and the type large, this rate of remuneration was better than it looked. My chief difficulty consisted in finding subjects to write about, for the editor insisted on news, and news in a second-rate Continental city is rather a scarce commodity; it is not every day that a stupid, if well-meaning Briton gets himself handcuffed and locked up by the cock-hatted myrmidons of a foreign despot. However, I went on writing; when I could not make a 66 newsy" letter I wrote a sketchy one. I wrote very carefully, generally going over the ground twice, and never minding whether my articles were accepted or not. Perhaps this was one of the reasons why, after our connection had lasted a few months, the

editor offered me a permanent place at head-quarters. I accepted it; less on account of the salary, which was ridiculously small, than that it afforded me the long-desired chance of becoming a professional journalist. My duties in my new situation were rather multifarious than arduous: I did translations; wrote reviews, leading articles, and even musical critiques, for which last my qualifications were an indifferent ear and a profound ignorance of music. I presume I gave satisfaction, since after a short probation my pay was increased to thirty dollars a week, and I began to flatter myself that I was on the tide that leads to fortune. But it soon ebbed, this tide; the paper changed hands, the new proprietors brought their own staff, and I with several others was turned adrift. I did not feel much discouraged, however; I had acquired some useful experience, made myself friends, and, best of all, I left behind me a certain reputation. I returned to the Continental city which I had quitted for the post of assistant editor, and resumed the writing of a book which I had begun before my departure.

Thus occupying myself I quietly waited, and in the course of two or three months I received the offer of an editorship in another Continental city. But I was not content with the performance of my rather easy duties; I desired to connect myself with one of the leviathans of the London press. This object promised to be somewhat difficult of attainment. In all the great European capitals English journals are of course very efficiently represented, and for an individual without influence to obtain the post of Paris, Berlin, or Vienna correspondent of one of the big London dailies were about as easy as for a poet or philosopher without political opinions to become president of the United States, while in places of secondary importance they generally do not care to be represented at all. If only something would happen! Something did happen. This time it was not an Englishman who fell into the hands of the police, but some English people who fell

into the water and got drowned. I forthwith telegraphed the news to London at a cost of some three dollars, and a few days later I received a courteous note from the manager inclosing a check for £2 28., which left a fair profit on the transaction. I went on telegraphing from time to time such items of news as I thought would be acceptable, and they were, in point of fact, always accepted, but the rate of remuneration was gradually reduced, until at length it became almost imperceptible. I found that I had got hold of one of the least flourishing or most close-fisted of English dailies, and I resolved to make a change. Meanwhile a contribution which I had offered to a London weekly paper had been accepted, with a gracious intimation from the editor that he would be glad to number me amongst his regular contributors; the pay was three guineas for two columns. About this time a strange thing happened. I got paid twice over for the same article, and became the " own correspondent" of one of the most impor tant daily newspapers published in the English language. An idea occurred to one which I thought I could work into a letter that this paper might possibly accept. I wrote it, accordingly, and sent it in, but as, after a lapse of ten days, my poor contribution had not appeared, I naturally concluded it had been rejected, and thought myself quite at liberty to rewrite and send it to the weekly journal, to which I now contributed something nearly every week. Imagine my horror when on one and the same day my article appeared in both papers! I thought I was ruined with both, but no harm came of it; I suppose the editors of neither noticed the coincidence, and readers who perceived it thought, probably, that the one had borrowed from the other without acknowledgment. The acceptance of my article by the big daily led to a connection which has endured ever since, greatly to my satisfaction, and, as I trust, to the satisfaction of the managers of the paper.

me,

In one of my walks abroad I happened to make the acquaintance of a vagabond sort of fellow who spoke several lan

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