Column: Forgotten words enrich the vocabulary, confuse others

Published 12:00 am Thursday, March 21, 2002

The first Christmas I remember is the first Christmas on which I received a book.

Thursday, March 21, 2002

The first Christmas I remember is the first Christmas on which I received a book. Three books to be exact, and I had just had my third birthday.

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Owing largely, I think, to the fact that most of the recent arrivals in the family had been boys, I pulled in a fair amount of loot that year: dolls, doll furniture, dishes, push toys, large beads to string on shoe strings, what have you. I left them all decently under the tree, grabbed my three books, retreated to my own special corner behind the stove and made futile efforts to read them.

It’s a terrible admission to make, but I don’t think I’ve made any significant change in the past many years. One should grow and expand mentally. Books can still stop me dead in my tracks when I should be cleaning the house or writing letters.

I did start my spring house cleaning; got as far as bringing up my hunk of petrified dinosaur dung from downstairs to my blue room, where I write. It’s fine for a paperweight but it used to unnerve me a little when guests observing it on top of a chest, would give little cries of joy. &uot;What a beautiful stone,&uot; one or another would purr and forthwith bring it to the tea table for an ornament.

I try never to be a wet blanket to the enthusiasm of a guest, but it’s a bit difficult to explain my lifelong affection for dinosaurs. Call it old-fashioned, though, if you like, but I can’t help thinking that there are some objects that are simply not suitable for table decorations.

This, though, is digression. In the course of my feeble attempts to start spring housecleaning, I found a book presented to me by a friend in October, 1983, entitled &uot;Poplollies and Bellibones, a Celebration of Lost Words.&uot;

Because the book, written by Susan Kelz Sperling, was copyrighted in 1977, I can’t share any of it with you. If you have an interest in words, though, and most of us do, I wish you godspeed in finding a copy of your own.

Within my lifetime I have witnessed the demise of many a word. Slang is the first to go. As a child, surrounded by adolescent neighbors and cousins, I grew used to such expressions as &uot;the bees’ knees,&uot; &uot;the cat’s pajamas,&uot; and the like expressions of admirations for those of the opposite sex.

&uot;Keen,&uot; too, was used as an expression of admiration. &uot;We went to the movie. And boy, that was a keen show.&uot; I can’t remember when I last heard the word &uot;keen.&uot; In my late teens and early twenties we said something to the effect that someone was really &uot;cooking with gas,&uot; to express our admiration.

Not overly critical of the way other people speak, I do confess to snarling softly to myself when TV commentators, politicians and ministers darken the air with thoughtless mistakes. After all, words are their business. I’d be content with just a few corrections.

Unless you’re a member of the Heep family, the word is &uot;humble,&uot; not &uot;umble.&uot; In speaking your health, you may feel bad, but not badly. It’s between you and me, not you and I. Error is a noun, not a verb. One does not error on the side of justice, one errs.

Should you be wondering why I’m sounding forth in this manner, I’ll confess. I’ve been listening to that commentator again. You know, the one who reminds me of my least favorite uncle. Both of them turn me into the character in &uot;The Mikado.&uot; The one who sings, &uot;I’ve made myself a list. They’ll none of them be missed.&uot;

My first serious novel reading as I entered my teens was largely in the novels of the 19th century. An avid reader, I grew accustomed to words I rarely encounter now: &uot;vast,&uot; &uot;vexed,&uot; &uot;knave,&uot; &uot;propriety,&uot; &uot;impudent,&uot; &uot;bold,&uot; &uot;brazen.&uot; Some of them still linger in my vocabulary without my being aware of them.

I was once startled when a friend pounced on my saying I found something or other rather singular (as a synonym for strange.) He said he had seen the word in print but had never before actually heard it used in an ordinary weekday conversation.

Since then I’ve tried to be a bit careful. After all, one doesn’t wish to be considered quaint.

Love Cruikshank is an Albert Lea resident. Her column appears Thursdays.