About this book

The American Language

H. L. Mencken

rutabaga mangel-wurzel saleswoman shop-assistant saloon public-house scarf-pin tie-pin scow lighter sewer drain shirtwaist blouse shoe boot shoemaker bootmaker shoestring bootlace shoe-tree boot-form sick ill sidewalk pavement silver (collectively) plate sled sledge sleigh sledge soft-drinks minerals spigot tap squash vegetable-marrow stem-winder keyless-watch stockholder shareholder stocks shares store-fixtures shop-fittings street-cleaner crossing-sweeper street-railway tramway subway tube, or underground suspenders (men's) braces sweater jersey switch (noun, railway) points switch (verb, railway) shunt taxes (municipal) rates taxpayer (local) ratepayer tenderloin (of beef) under-cut ten-pins nine-pins thumb-tack drawing-pin ticket-office booking-office tinner tinker tin-roof leads track (railroad) line trained-nurse hospital-nurse transom (of door) fanlight trolley-car tramcar truck (vehicle) lorry truck (of a railroad car) bogie trunk box typewriter (operator) typist typhoid-fever enteric undershirt vest vaudeville-theatre music-hall vegetables greens vest waistcoat warden (of a prison) governor warehouse stores wash-rag face-cloth wash-stand wash-hand-stand wash-wringer mangle waste-basket waste-paper-basket whipple-tree[2] splinter-bar witness-stand witness-box wood-alcohol methylated-spirits [Pg102] § 2 /Differences in Usage/--The differences here listed, most of them between words in everyday employment, are but examples of a divergence in usage which extends to every department of daily life. In his business, in his journeys from his home to his office, in his dealings with his family and servants, in his sports and amusements, in his politics and even in his religion the American uses, not only words and phrases, but whole syntactical constructions, that are unintelligible to the Englishman, or intelligible only after laborious consideration. A familiar anecdote offers an example in miniature. It concerns a young American woman living in a region of prolific orchards who is asked by a visiting Englishman what the residents do with so much fruit. Her reply is a pun: "We eat all we can, and what we can't we can." This answer would mystify nine Englishmen out of ten, for in the first place it involves the use of the flat American /a/ in /can't/ and in the second place it applies an unfamiliar name to the vessel that every Englishman knows as a /tin/, and then adds to the confusion by deriving a verb from the substantive. There are no such things as /canned-goods/ in England; over there they are /tinned/. The /can/ that holds them is a /tin/; /to can/ them is /to tin/ them.... And they are counted, not as /groceries/, but as /stores/, and advertised, not on /bill-boards/ but on /hoardings/.[3] And the cook who prepares them for the table is not /Nora/ or /Maggie/, but /Cook/, and if she does other work in addition she is not a /girl for general housework/, but a /cook-general/, and not /help/, but a /servant/. And the boarder who eats them is not a /boarder/ at all, but a /paying-guest/, though he is said /to board/. And the grave of the tin, once it is emptied, is not the /ash-can/, but the /dust-bin/, and the man who carries it away is not the /garbage-man/ or the /ash-man/ or the /white-wings/, but the /dustman/. An Englishman, entering his home, does not walk in upon the [Pg103] /first floor/, but upon the /ground floor/. What he calls the /first floor/ (or, more commonly, /first storey/, not forgetting the penultimate /e/!) is what we call the /second floor/, and so on up to the roof--which is covered not with /tin/, but with /slate/, /tiles/ or /leads/. He does not /take/ a paper; he /takes in/ a paper. He does not ask his servant, "is there any /mail/ for me?" but, "are there any /letters/ for me?" for /mail/, in the American sense, is a word that he seldom uses, save in such compounds as /mail-van/ and /mail-train/. He always speaks of it as /the post/. The man who brings it is not a /letter-carrier/, but a /postman/. It is /posted/, not /mailed/, at a /pillar-box/, not at a /mail-box/. It never includes /postal-cards/, but only /post-cards/; never /money-orders/, but only /postal-orders/. The Englishman dictates his answers, not to a /typewriter/, but to a /typist/; a /typewriter/ is merely the machine. If he desires the recipient to call him by telephone he doesn't say, "/phone me/ at a quarter /of/ eight," but "/ring me up/ at a quarter /to/ eight." And when the call comes he says "/are you there?/" When he gets home, he doesn't find his wife waiting for him in the /parlor/ or /living-room/,[4] but in the /drawing-room/ or in her /sitting-room/, and the tale of domestic disaster that she has to tell does not concern the /hired-girl/ but the /slavey/ and the /scullery-maid/. He doesn't bring her a box of /candy/, but a box of /sweets/. He doesn't leave a /derby/ hat in the hall, but a /bowler/. His wife doesn't wear /shirtwaists/ but /blouses/. When she buys one she doesn't say "/charge it/" but "/put it down/." When she orders a /tailor-made suit/, she calls it a /coat-and-skirt/. When she wants a /spool of thread/ she asks for a /reel of cotton/. Such things are bought, not in the /department-stores/, but at the /stores/, which are substantially the same thing. In these stores /calico/ means a plain cotton cloth; in the United States it means a printed cotton cloth. Things bought on the instalment plan in England are said to be bought on the /hire-purchase/ plan or system; the instalment business itself is the /credit-trade/. Goods ordered by /post/ (not mail) on which the dealer pays the cost of transportation are said to be sent, not /postpaid/ or /prepaid/, but /post-free/ or /carriage-paid/. [Pg104] An Englishman does not wear /suspenders/ and /neckties/, but /braces/ and /cravats/. /Suspenders/ are his wife's garters; his own are /sock-suspenders/. The family does not seek sustenance in a /rare tenderloin/ and /squash/, but in /underdone under-cut/ and /vegetable marrow/. It does not eat /beets/, but /beet-roots/. The wine on the table, if miraculously German, is not /Rhine wine/, but /Hock/.... The maid who laces the stays of the mistress of the house is not /Maggie/ but /Robinson/. The nurse-maid is not /Lizzie/ but /Nurse/. So, by the way, is a trained nurse in a hospital, whose full style is not /Miss Jones/, but /Nurse Jones/. And the hospital itself, if private, is not a hospital at all, but a /nursing-home/, and its trained nurses are plain /nurses/, or /hospital nurses/, or maybe /nursing sisters/. And the white-clad young gentlemen who make love to them are not /studying medicine/ but /walking the hospitals/. Similarly, an English law student does not study law, but /the/ law. If an English boy goes to a /public school/, it is not a sign that he is getting his education free, but that his father is paying a good round sum for it and is accepted as a gentleman. A /public school/ over there corresponds to our /prep school/; it is a place maintained chiefly by endowments, wherein boys of the upper classes are prepared for the universities. What we know as a /public school/ is called a /board school/ in England, not because the pupils are boarded but because it is managed by a school board. English school-boys are divided, not into /classes/, or /grades/, but into /forms/, which are numbered, the lowest being the /first form/. The benches they sit on are also called /forms/. The principal of an English school is a /head-master/ or /head-mistress/; the lower pedagogues used to be /ushers/, but are now /assistant masters/ (or /mistresses/). The head of a university is a /chancellor/. He is always some eminent public man, and a /vice-chancellor/ performs his duties. The head of a mere college may be a /president/, /principal/, /rector/, /dean/ or /provost/. At the universities the students are not divided into /freshmen/, /sophomores/, /juniors/ and /seniors/, as with us, but are simply /first-year men/, /second-year men/, and so on. Such distinctions, however, are not as important in England as in America; members of the university (they are called [Pg105] /members/, not /students/) do not flock together according to seniority. An English university man does not /study/; he /reads/. He knows nothing of /frats/, /class-days/, /senior-proms/ and such things; save at Cambridge and Dublin he does not even have a /commencement/. On the other hand his daily speech is full of terms unintelligible to an American student, for example, /wrangler/, /tripos/, /head/, /pass-degree/ and /don/. The upkeep of board-schools in England comes out of the /rates/, which are local taxes levied upon householders. For that reason an English municipal taxpayer is called a /ratepayer/. The functionaries who collect and spend his money are not /office-holders/ but /public-servants/. The head of the local police is not a /chief of police/, but a /chief constable/. The fire /department/ is the fire /brigade/. The /street-cleaner/ is a /crossing-sweeper/. The parish /poorhouse/ is a /workhouse/. If it is maintained by two or more parishes jointly it becomes a /union/. A pauper who accepts its hospitality is said to be /on the rates/. A policeman is a /bobby/ familiarly and /constable/ officially. He is commonly mentioned in the newspapers, not by his surname, but as /P. C. 643a/--/i. e./, Police Constable No. 643a. The /fire laddie/, the /ward executive/, the /roundsman/, the /strong-arm squad/ and other such objects of American devotion are unknown in England. An English saloon-keeper is officially a licensed /victualler/. His saloon is a /public house/, or, colloquially, a /pub/. He does not sell beer by the /bucket/ or /can/ or /growler/ or /schooner/, but by the /pint/. He and his brethren, taken together, are the /licensed trade/. His back-room is a /parlor/. If he has a few upholstered benches in his place he usually calls it a /lounge/. He employs no /bartenders/ or /mixologists/. /Barmaids/ do the work, with maybe a /barman/ to help. The American language, as we have seen, has begun to take in the English /boot/ and /shop/, and it is showing hospitality to /head-master/, /haberdasher/ and /week-end/, but /subaltern/, /civil servant/, /porridge/, /moor/, /draper/, /treacle/, /tram/ and /mufti/ are still strangers in the United States, as /bleachers/, /picayune/,