Ziff, a juvenile thief.Ziph,LANGUAGE OF, a way of disguising English in use among the students at Winchester College. Comparemedical Greek. De Quincey, in hisAutobiographic Sketches, says that he acquired this language as a boy, from a Dr. Mapleton, who had three sons at Winchester who had imported it from thence as their sole accomplishment, and that after the lapse of fifty years he could, and did with Lord Westport, converse in it with ease and rapidity. It was communicated at Winchester to new-comers for a fixed fee of half a guinea. The secret is this,—repeat the vowel or diphthong of every syllable, prefixing to the vowel so repeated the letter G, and placing the accent on the intercalated syllable. Thus, for example, “Shall we go away in an hour?” “Shagall wege gogo agawagay igin agan hougour?” “Three hours we have already stayed,” “Threegee hougours wege hagave agalreageadygy stagayed.” De Quincey could hardly have been considered complimentary to his own memory if he supposed that he, or for the matter of that any one possessed of brains, could forget anything so simple; or that, if forgotten until suddenly recalled, it could not be mastered by any sensible person in a minute. The language ofZIPHis far inferior toany of the slangs manufactured by the lower classes. Evidently any consonant will answer the purpose; F or L would be softer, and so far better. ThisZIPHsystem is not confined to Winchester College, as it is recorded and described amongst many other modes of cryptical communication, oral and visual, spoken, written, and symbolic, in anEssay towards a Real Character and a Philosophic Language(founded on or suggested by a treatise published just before, by Geo. Dalgarne), by John Wilkins, Bishop of Chester, published by order of the Royal Society, fol. 1668, and as the bishop does not speak of it as a recent invention, it may probably at that time have been regarded as an antique device for conducting a conversation in secrecy amongst bystanders—which says very little for either the designers or the bystanders.Zounds!a sudden exclamation—abbreviation of “God’s wounds!”
Ziff, a juvenile thief.
Ziph,LANGUAGE OF, a way of disguising English in use among the students at Winchester College. Comparemedical Greek. De Quincey, in hisAutobiographic Sketches, says that he acquired this language as a boy, from a Dr. Mapleton, who had three sons at Winchester who had imported it from thence as their sole accomplishment, and that after the lapse of fifty years he could, and did with Lord Westport, converse in it with ease and rapidity. It was communicated at Winchester to new-comers for a fixed fee of half a guinea. The secret is this,—repeat the vowel or diphthong of every syllable, prefixing to the vowel so repeated the letter G, and placing the accent on the intercalated syllable. Thus, for example, “Shall we go away in an hour?” “Shagall wege gogo agawagay igin agan hougour?” “Three hours we have already stayed,” “Threegee hougours wege hagave agalreageadygy stagayed.” De Quincey could hardly have been considered complimentary to his own memory if he supposed that he, or for the matter of that any one possessed of brains, could forget anything so simple; or that, if forgotten until suddenly recalled, it could not be mastered by any sensible person in a minute. The language ofZIPHis far inferior toany of the slangs manufactured by the lower classes. Evidently any consonant will answer the purpose; F or L would be softer, and so far better. ThisZIPHsystem is not confined to Winchester College, as it is recorded and described amongst many other modes of cryptical communication, oral and visual, spoken, written, and symbolic, in anEssay towards a Real Character and a Philosophic Language(founded on or suggested by a treatise published just before, by Geo. Dalgarne), by John Wilkins, Bishop of Chester, published by order of the Royal Society, fol. 1668, and as the bishop does not speak of it as a recent invention, it may probably at that time have been regarded as an antique device for conducting a conversation in secrecy amongst bystanders—which says very little for either the designers or the bystanders.
Zounds!a sudden exclamation—abbreviation of “God’s wounds!”
The costermongers of London number between thirty and forty thousand. Like other low tribes, they boast a language, or secret tongue, by which they hide their designs, movements, and other private affairs. This costers’ speech offers no new fact, or approach to a fact, for philologists; it is not very remarkable for originality of construction, neither is it spiced with low humour, as other cant. But the costermongers boast that it is known only to themselves; that it is far beyond the Irish, and puzzles the Jews. This is, however, but a poor fiction; for, as will be seen, the slang current among them is of the crudest conception, and only difficult to the most ignorant. Any one of the smallest pretensions to ability could learn back slang—could, in fact, create it for himself—as far as the costers’ vocabulary extends, in a couple of hours. Since the early editions of this work were published back slang has become very common; and is now mostly spoken, mixed however, with various other kinds of slang, in the public markets—the new dead-meat market being, perhaps, strongest in the way of pure—if the term may be used—back slang.
The main principle of this language is spelling the words backwards—or rather, pronouncing them rudely backwards. Sometimes, for the sake of harmony, an extra syllable is prefixed or annexed; and occasionally the word receives quite a different turn, in rendering it backwards, from what an uninitiated person would have expected. One coster told Mayhew that he oftengave the end of a word “a new turn, just as if he chorused it with a tol-de-rol.” But then costermongers, and more especially those who confided their joys and sorrows to the gentleman just named, are not to be relied on. The coster has, of course, his own idea of the proper way of spelling words, and is not to be convinced but by an overwhelming show of learning,—and frequently not then, for he is a very headstrong fellow. By the time a coster has spelt an ordinary word of two or three syllables in the proper way, and then spelt it backwards, it has become a tangled knot that no etymologist could unravel. The word “generalize,” for instance, is considered to be “shilling” spelt backwards, while “genitraf” is supposed to represent farthing. Sometimes slang and cant words are introduced, and even these, when imagined to be tolerably well known, are pronounced backwards. Very often, instead of a word being spelt backwards right through, the syllables retain their original order; the initialhis pronounced as thoughcwere before it, “tatch” being back slang for hat, and “flatch” the word supposed to represent half. Again, the full words are shortened, as “gen” for “generalize,” a shilling; and various other artifices are resorted to, in the hope of adding to the natural difficulties of back slang.
This back language, back slang, or “kacab genals,” as it is called by the costermongers themselves, is supposed to be regarded by the rising generation of street-sellers as a distinct and regular mode of intercommunication. People who hear this slang for the first time never refer words, by inverting them, to their originals; and the “yanneps,” “esclops,” and “nammows,” are looked upon as secret terms. Those who practise the slang soon obtain a considerable stock vocabulary, so that they converse rather from the memory than the understanding. Amongst the senior costermongers, and those who pride themselves on their proficiency in back slang, a conversation isoften sustained for a whole evening—that is, the chief words are in the back slang—especially if any “flats” are present whom they wish to astonish or confuse.
The addition of ansinvariably forms the plural, so that this is another source of complication. For instance, woman in the back slang is “nammow,” and “nammows” is “women.” The explorer, then, in undoing the back slang, and turning the word once more into English, would have a novel and very extraordinary rendering of women. Where a word is refractory in submitting to a back rendering, as in the case of “pound,” letters are made to change positions for the sake of harmony; thus we have “dunop,” a pound, instead of “dnuop,” which nobody could pleasantly pronounce. Also all words of one syllable which end with two consonants—such, for instance, as cold, drunk—become dissyllables when read backwards, the vowel e being imagined between the then first and second consonants, as “deloc,” “kennurd.” Others take the vowel as an initial, girl being pronounced “elrig.” This arrangement, as a modification to suit circumstances, may remind the reader of the Jews’ “Old clo’! old clo’!” instead of “Old clothes! old clothes!” which it is supposed would tire the patience of even a Jew to repeat all day.
The back slang has been in vogue for many years. It is, as before stated, very easily acquired, and is principally used by the costermongers and others who practise it (as the specimen Glossary will show) for communicating the secrets of their street tradings, the cost of and profit on goods, and for keeping their natural enemies, the police, in the dark. “Cool the esclop” (look at the police) is often said among them, when one of the constabulary makes his appearance. It is only fair to assume, however, that the police know as much or more about the back slang than do the costers; and every child in a “shy” neighbourhood knows the meaning of the phrase justquoted. Those who regard the London costermonger as a fearful being are very much mistaken,—he is singularly simple-minded and innocent, and has, indeed, very little to conceal; but he certainly does like to wrap himself up as in a garment of mystery, and sometimes believes that the few words of slang he knows, mixed as they are, and troublesome as they have been to him, form an impenetrable barrier between him and the rest of the world. He is fond of exhibiting what knowledge he possesses, and so talks slang in public much more than in private; but at most the slang words used bear not forty per cent. proportion to the rest of his conversational structure, even when he exerts himself to the uttermost limits of his ability and education, and even when he is a leader in his walk of life.
Perhaps on no subject is the costermonger so silent as on his money affairs. All costs and profits, he thinks, should be kept profoundly secret. The back slang, therefore, gives the various small amounts very minutely, but, as has been before remarked, these words are known wherever common folk most do congregate, and are peculiar only for their variations from the original in the way of pronunciation:—
Flatch, halfpenny.Yannep, penny.Owt-yanneps, twopence.Erth-yanneps, threepence.Roaf-yanneps, fourpence.Evif, or ewif-yanneps, fivepence.Exis-yanneps, sixpence.Nevis-yanneps, sevenpence.Teaich, or theg-yanneps, eightpence.Enin-yanneps, ninepence.Net-yanneps, tenpence.Nevelé-yanneps, elevenpence.Evlénet-yanneps, twelvepence.Generalize, one shilling.Yannep-flatch, three-halfpence.Owt-yannep-flatch, twopence-halfpenny. The word “flatch” represents the odd halfpenny when added to any number of “yanneps.”Gen, or eno-gen, one shilling. “Gen” is a contraction of “generalize.”Owt-gens, two shillings.Erth-gens, three shillings.
The “gens” continue in the same sequence as the “yanneps” above; but, as a rule, thesis left out, and “owt” or “erth gen” represents the quantity. This is, however, matter of individual taste; and any reader who is anxious to become proficient need not be afraid of committing a solecism—that’s a good word for back slanging—by giving vent to any peculiarity that may strike him. Variety is the charm of nature, we are told; and in this particular, if in no other, back slang and nature approach each other. So do extremes meet.
Yenork, a crown piece, or five shillings.Flatch-yenork, half-a-crown. This is generally slurred into “flatch-a-nock.” The crown in full rarely receives the title “yenork” nowadays,—it is usually a “wheel” or “evif gen.”Flatch a dunop, ten shillings,i.e., half a pound.
Beyond this amount the slangist reckons after an intricate and complicated mode. Fifteen shillings would be “erth-evif-gen,” or, literally, three times 5s.; seventeen and sixpence would be “erth-yenork-flatch,” or three crowns and a half; or, by another mode of reckoning, “erth-evif-gen flatch-yenork,”i.e., three times 5s., and half-a-crown.
Dunop, a pound. Varied by “Dick,” back slang for “quid.”
Further than which the costermonger seldom goes in money reckoning.
In the following Glossary only those words are given which are continually used,—the terms connected with street traffic, the names of the different coins, vegetables, fruit, and fish, technicalities of police courts, &c. The reader might naturally think that a system of speech so simple as the back slang would require no Glossary; but he will quickly perceive, fromthe specimens given, that a great many words in frequent use in a “back” sense, have become so twisted as to require a little glossarial explanation.
This kind of slang, formed by reversing and transposing the letters of a word, is not peculiar to the London costermongers. Instances of an exactly similar secret dialect are found in the Spanish “Germania” and French “Argot.” Thus:—Spanish.Germania.English.Plato.Taplo.Plate.Demia.Media.Stockings.French.Argot.English.F’ol.Loffe.Foolish.Lorcefe.La Force.La Force, the prison of that name.
This kind of slang, formed by reversing and transposing the letters of a word, is not peculiar to the London costermongers. Instances of an exactly similar secret dialect are found in the Spanish “Germania” and French “Argot.” Thus:—
Spanish.Germania.English.Plato.Taplo.Plate.Demia.Media.Stockings.French.Argot.English.F’ol.Loffe.Foolish.Lorcefe.La Force.La Force, the prison of that name.
The Bazeegars, a wandering tribe of jugglers in India, form a back slang, on the basis of the Hindustanee, in the following manner:—Hindustanee.Bazeegar.English.Ag.Ga.Fire.Lamba.Balum.Long.Dum.Mudu.Breath.
The Bazeegars, a wandering tribe of jugglers in India, form a back slang, on the basis of the Hindustanee, in the following manner:—
Hindustanee.Bazeegar.English.Ag.Ga.Fire.Lamba.Balum.Long.Dum.Mudu.Breath.
Birk, a “crib,”—a house.
Cool, to look.
Cool him, look at him. A phrase frequently used when one costermonger warns another of the approach of a policeman, or when any person worthy of notice passes by. When any old lady has been bargaining with a costermonger, and leaves his barrow without purchasing, the proprietor of the barrow will call out to the rest, “COOLthe delo nammow,” which, though it means literally nothing beyond “Look at the old woman,” conveys to them an intimation that she is, from their point of view, a nuisance, and should be treated as such.
Dab, bad.
Dab tros, a bad sort.
Dabheno, a bad one, sometimes a bad market.SeeDOOGHENO.
Da-erb, bread.
Deb, orDAB, a bed; “I’m off to theDEB,” I’m going to bed.
Delo nammow, an old woman.
Delog, gold.
Doog, good.
Doogheno, literally “good-one,” but implying generally a good market, a good man, &c.
Doogheno hit, one good hit. A coster remarks to a mate, “Jack made aDOOGHENO HITthis morning,” implying that he did well at market, or sold out with good profit. Actually a good hit only is intended, but redundancy has its charms in the back slang as well as in more pretentious literary efforts.
Dunop, a pound.
Edgabac, cabbage.
Edgenaro, an orange.
E-fink, a knife.
Ekame, a “make,” or swindle.
Ekom, a “moke,” or donkey.
Elrig, a girl.
Emag, game, “I know your littleEMAG.”
Enif, fine.
Enin gen, nine shillings.
Enin yanneps, ninepence.
Eno, one.
Erif, fire.
Erth, three.
Erth gen, three shillings.
Erth-pu, three-up, a street game, played with three halfpence.
Erth sith-noms, three months,—a term of imprisonment unfortunately very familiar to the lower orders. Generally known as a “drag.”
Erth yanneps, threepence.
Esclop, police, now used to signify a constable only.Esclopis pronounced “slop” simply, but thecwas never sounded. A policeman is now and then called, by some purist or stickler for etiquette, an “esclopnam.”
Es-roch, a horse.
Esuch, a house.
Evif-gen, a crown, or five shillings.
Evif-yanneps, fivepence.
Evlenet-gen, twelve shillings.
Evlenet sith-noms, twelve months. Generally known as a “stretch.”
Exis-evif-gen, six times five shillings,i.e., 30s.All moneys may be reckoned in this manner, either withYANNEPSorGENS. It is, however, rarely or never done.
Exis-evif-yanneps, elevenpence,—literally, “sixpence and fivepence = elevenpence.” This mode of reckoning, distinct from the preceding, is only made by special arrangement amongst slangites, who wish to confound their intimates.
Exis gen, six shillings.
Exis sith-noms, six months.
Exis yanneps, sixpence.
Fi-heath, a thief.
Flatch, half, or a halfpenny.
Flatch kennurd, half drunk.
Flatch-yenork, half-a-crown.Seepreceding remarks.
Flatchyannep, a halfpenny.
Gen, twelvepence, or one shilling. Formerly imagined to be an abbreviation of argent, cant term for silver.
Generalize, a shilling, almost invariably shortened toGEN.
Genitraf, a farthing.
Gen-net, orNET GEN, ten shillings.
Genol, long.
Hel-bat, a table.}The aspirate is matter of taste.Helpa, an apple.
Kanitseeno, a stinking one.Kanitsis a stink.
Kennurd, drunk.
Kew(or more properlyKEEU), a week.
Kews,SKEW, orSKEEU, weeks.
Kirb, a brick.
Kool, to look.
Lawt, tall.
Ler-ac-am, mackerel.
Mottob, bottom.
Mur, rum. A “nettock o’MUR” is a quartern of rum.
Nair, rain.
Nam, a man.
Nam esclop, a policeman.SeeESCLOP.
Nammow, a woman;DELO NAMMOW, an old woman.
Neel, lean.
Neergs, greens.
Net enin gen, nineteen shillings.
Net evif gen, fifteen shillings.
Net exis gen, sixteen shillings.
Net gen, ten shillings, or half a sovereign.
Net nevis gen, seventeen shillings.
Net rith gen, thirteen shillings.
Net roaf gen, fourteen shillings. It will be seen by the foregoing that the reckoning is more by tens than by “teens.” This is, however, matter of choice, and any one wishing to be considered accomplished in this description of slang, must do as he thinks best—must lead and not be led.
Net theg gen, eighteen shillings.
Net yanneps, tenpence.
Nevele gen, eleven shillings.
Nevele yanneps, elevenpence.
Nevis gen, seven shillings.
Nevis stretch, seven years’ penal servitude.
Nevis yanneps, sevenpence.
Nig, gin.
Noom, the moon.
Nos-rap, a parson.
Occabot, tobacco; “tib foOCCABOT,” bit of tobacco.
Ogging ot tekram, going to market.
On, no.
On doog, no good.
Owt gen, two shillings.}Owtis pronouncedOAT.Owt yanneps, twopence.
Pac, a cap.
Pinnurt pots, turnip tops.
Pot, top.
Rape, a pear.
Reeb, beer. “Top o’REEB,” a pot of beer.
Rev-lis, silver.
Rof-efil, for life—sentence of punishment.
Roaf-gen, four shillings.
Roaf-yanneps, fourpence.
Rutat, orRATTAT, a “tatur,” or potato.
See-otches, shoes.
Sey, yes. PronouncedSEE.
Shif, fish.
Sirretch, cherries. Very oftenSIRRETCHES.
Sith-nom, a month. This is because the slang was made from months, not month. Perhaps because the latter was not easy; perhaps because terms of imprisonment run longer than a month, and are often enumerated in the “kacab genals.” However it may be, “months” in this mode of speaking has a double plural as it stands now.
Slaoc, coals.
Slop, a policeman.SeeESCLOP.
Sneerg, greens.
Spinsrap, parsnips.⎫All these will take thes, which is now initial, after them, if desired, and, as may be seen, some take it doubly.Sret-sio, oysters.⎪Sres-wort, trousers.⎪Starps, sprats.⎬Stoobs, boots.⎪Storrac, carrots.⎪Stun, nuts.⎪Stunlaw, walnuts.⎭
Tach, a hat.
Taf, fat. ATAF ENOis a fat man or woman, literally AFAT ONE.
Taoc, a coat. “Cool theDELO TAOC” means, “Look at the old coat,” but is really intended to apply to the wearer as well, as professors of mixed slangs might say, “Vardy his nibs in the snide bucket.”
Taoc-tisaw, a waistcoat.
Teaich-gir, right, otherwiseTADGER.
Tenip, a pint.
Theg(orTEAICH) gen, eight shillings.
Theg(orTEAITCH) yanneps, eightpence.
Tib, a bit, or piece.
Tol, lot, stock, or share.
Top-yob, a potboy.
Torrac, a carrot. “Ekat aTORRAC.”
Trork, a quart.
Trosseno, literally, “one sort,” but professional slangists use it to imply anything that is bad.Tross, among costermongers, means anythingbad. It is probably a corruption of trash. Possibly, however, the constant use of the words “dab-tros” may have led them in their unthinking way to imagine that the latter word will do by itself.
Wedge, a Jew. This may look strange, but it is exact back slang.
Wor-rab, a barrow.
Yad, a day;YADS, days.
Yadnarb, brandy.
Yannep, a penny.
Yannep a time, a penny each. Costermongers say “a time” for many things. They say a “bob a time,” meaning a shilling each for admission to a theatre, or any other place, or that certain articles are charged a shilling each. The context is the only clue to the exact meaning.
Yannep-flatch, three halfpence,—all the halfpence and pennies continue in the same sequence, as for instance,OWT-YANNEP-FLATCH, twopence-halfpenny.
Yap pu, pay up.
Yeknod, orJERK-NOD, a donkey.
Yenork, a crown.
Yob, a boy.
Zeb, best.
From these examples the apt student may fairly judge how to form his own back slang to his own liking and that of his friends.
There exists in London a singular tribe of men, known amongst the “fraternity of vagabonds” as chaunters and patterers. Both classes are great talkers. The first sing or chaunt through the public thoroughfares ballads—political and humorous—carols, dying speeches, and the various other kinds of gallows and street literature. The second deliver street orations on grease-removing compounds, plating powders, high-polishing blacking, and the thousand-and-one wonderful penny-worths that are retailed to gaping mobs from a London kerb-stone.
They are quite a distinct tribe from the costermongers; indeed, amongst tramps, they term themselves the “harristocrats of the streets,” and boast that they live by their intellects. Like the costermongers, however, they have a secret tongue or cant speech known only to each other. This cant, which has nothing to do with that spoken by the costermongers, is known in Seven Dials and elsewhere as the “rhyming slang,” or the substitution of words and sentences which rhyme with other words intended to be kept secret. The chaunter’s cant, therefore, partakes of his calling, and he transforms and uses up into a rough speech the various odds and ends of old songs, ballads, and street nicknames, which are found suitable to his purpose. Unlike nearly all other systems of cant, the rhyming slangis not founded upon allegory; unless we except a few rude similes, thus—“I’m afloat” is the rhyming cant for “boat,” “sorrowful tale” is equivalent to “three months in jail,” “artful dodger” signifies a “lodger,” and a “snake in the grass” stands for a “looking-glass”—a meaning that would delight a fat Chinaman, or a collector of Oriental proverbs. But, as in the case of the costers’ speech and the old gipsy-vagabond cant, the chaunters and patterers so interlard this rhyming slang with their general remarks, while their ordinary language is so smothered and subdued, that, unless when they are professionally engaged, and talking of their wares, they might almost pass for foreigners.
From the inquiries I have made of various patterers and “paper-workers,” I learn that the rhyming slang was introduced about twelve or fifteen years ago.[61]Numbering this class of oratorical and bawling wanderers at twenty thousand, scattered over Great Britain, including London and the large provincial towns, we thus see the number of English vagabonds who converse in rhyme and talk poetry, although their habitations and mode of life constitute a very unpleasant Arcadia. These nomadic poets, like the other talkers of cant or secret languages, are stamped with the vagabond’s mark, and are continually on the move. The married men mostly have lodgings in London, and come and go as occasion may require. A few never quit London streets, but the greater number tramp to all the large provincial fairs, and prefer the “monkery” (country) to town life. Some transact their business in a systematic way, sending a post-office order to the Seven Dials’ printer for a fresh supply of ballads or penny books, or to the “swag shop,” as the case may be, for trinkets and gewgaws, to be sent on by rail to a given town by the time they shall arrive there.
When any dreadful murder, colliery explosion, or frightfulrailway accident has happened in a country district, three or four chaunters are generally on the spot in a day or two after the occurrence, vending and bawling “A True and Faithful Account,” &c., which “true and faithful account” was concocted purely in the imaginations of the successors of Catnach and Tommy Pitts,[62]behind the counters of their printing-shops in Seven Dials. And but few fairs are held in any part of England without the patterer being punctually at his post, with his nostrums, or real gold rings (with the story of the wager laid by the gentleman—seeFAWNEY-BOUNCING, in the Dictionary), or savealls for candlesticks, or paste which, when applied to the strop, makes the dullest razor keen enough to hack broom handles and sticks, and after that to have quite enough sharpness left for splitting hairs, or shaving them off the back of one of the hands of a clodhopper, looking on in amazement. And Cheap John, too, with his coarse jokes, and no end of six-bladed knives, and pocket-books, containing information for everybody, with pockets to hold money, and a pencil to write with into the bargain, and a van stuffed with the cheap productions of Sheffield and “Brummagem,”—he, too, is a patterer of the highest order, and visits fairs, and can hold a conversation in the rhyming slang.
Such is a rough description of the men who speak this jargon; and simple and ridiculous as the vulgar scheme of a rhyming slang may appear, it must always be regarded as a curious fact in linguistic history. In order that the reader’s patience may not be too much taxed, only a selection of rhyming words has been given in the Glossary,—and these for the most part, as in the case of the back slang, are the terms of every-day life, as used by this order of tramps and hucksters.
It must not be supposed, however, that the chaunter or patterer confines himself entirely to this slang when conveying secret intelligence. On the contrary, although he speaks not a “leash of languages,” yet is he master of the beggar’s cant, and is thoroughly “up” in street slang. The following letter, written by a chaunter to a gentleman who took an interest in his welfare, will show his capabilities in this line:—Dear Friend,[63]Excuse the liberty, since i saw you last i have not earned a thick un, we have had such a Dowry of Parny that it completely Stumped Drory the Bossman’s Patter therefore i am broke up and not having another friend but you i wish to know if you would lend me the price of 2 Gross of Tops, Dies, or Croaks, which is 7 shillings, of the above-mentioned worthy and Sarah Chesham the Essex Burick for the Poisoning job, they are both to be topped at Springfield Sturaban on Tuesday next. i hope you will oblige me if you can, for it will be the means of putting a James in my Clye. i will call at your Carser on Sunday Evening next for an answer, for i want aSpeel on the Drum as soon as possible. hoping you and the family are All Square,I remain Your obedient Servant,________
It must not be supposed, however, that the chaunter or patterer confines himself entirely to this slang when conveying secret intelligence. On the contrary, although he speaks not a “leash of languages,” yet is he master of the beggar’s cant, and is thoroughly “up” in street slang. The following letter, written by a chaunter to a gentleman who took an interest in his welfare, will show his capabilities in this line:—
Dear Friend,[63]Excuse the liberty, since i saw you last i have not earned a thick un, we have had such a Dowry of Parny that it completely Stumped Drory the Bossman’s Patter therefore i am broke up and not having another friend but you i wish to know if you would lend me the price of 2 Gross of Tops, Dies, or Croaks, which is 7 shillings, of the above-mentioned worthy and Sarah Chesham the Essex Burick for the Poisoning job, they are both to be topped at Springfield Sturaban on Tuesday next. i hope you will oblige me if you can, for it will be the means of putting a James in my Clye. i will call at your Carser on Sunday Evening next for an answer, for i want aSpeel on the Drum as soon as possible. hoping you and the family are All Square,I remain Your obedient Servant,________
Dear Friend,[63]
Excuse the liberty, since i saw you last i have not earned a thick un, we have had such a Dowry of Parny that it completely Stumped Drory the Bossman’s Patter therefore i am broke up and not having another friend but you i wish to know if you would lend me the price of 2 Gross of Tops, Dies, or Croaks, which is 7 shillings, of the above-mentioned worthy and Sarah Chesham the Essex Burick for the Poisoning job, they are both to be topped at Springfield Sturaban on Tuesday next. i hope you will oblige me if you can, for it will be the means of putting a James in my Clye. i will call at your Carser on Sunday Evening next for an answer, for i want aSpeel on the Drum as soon as possible. hoping you and the family are All Square,
I remain Your obedient Servant,________
The numerous allusions in the Glossary to well-known places in London show that this rude speech was mainly concocted in the metropolis. The police have made themselves partially acquainted with the back slang, but they are still profoundly ignorant of the rhyming slang.
Since the foregoing was written, matters have changed considerably, even, which I much doubt, if they ever were as is stated; for, as I have already remarked, wherever opportunity has occurred, the costermonger, the patterer, the chaunter, and the various other itinerants who “work” London and the provinces, delight in making themselves appear a most mysterious body; and this, when added to their natural disinclination to commit themselves to anything like fact so far as their natural enemies—inquirers, and well-dressed inquirers in particular—are concerned, has caused all sorts of extraordinary stories to be set afloat, which have ultimately led to an opinion becoming prevalent, that the costermonger and his friends form a race of beings differing entirely from those who mix in the ordinary humdrum routine of respectable life. Nothing could really be much further from fact. Any one who has ever been driven by stress of circumstances or curiosity to take up a permanent or temporary residence in any of the lodging-houses which abound in St. Giles’s, Saffron Hill, Turnmill Street, and in all parts of the eastern district of the metropolis, will bear me outwhen I say that a more commonplace individual, so far as his inner life is concerned, than the London itinerant cannot possibly exist. Certainly he is ignorant, and takes a very limited view of things in general, and religion and politics in particular; but these peculiarities are held in common with his betters, and so cannot be regarded as the special prerogative of any class. If you ask him a question he will attempt to mislead you, because, by your asking the question, he knows you are ignorant of his way of life; and when he does not mystify from love of mischief, as it appears he does from all published books I have seen about him, he does so as a duty he owes his natural enemies, the parish authorities and the tract distributors, the latter of whom he holds in special abhorrence.
If the rhyming slang was ever, during its existence, regarded as a secret language, its secrecy has long since departed from it. Far easier of construction than even the back slang, it has been common, especially in several printing-offices I could name, for many years, while street-boys are great proficients in its small mysteries. The Glossary which follows here will explain a good deal of its mechanism; but it must be borne in mind that the rhymes are all matters of individual opinion, and that if one man says Allacompain means rain, another is quite justified in preferring Mary Blane, if his individual fancy lies in that direction. And now, if there is any secret about the rhyming slang, it is this—the rhyme is left out. This may at first seem extraordinary; but on reflection it will be seen that there is no other way of making the proceedings of its exponents puzzling to ordinarily sharp ears which have received the slightest clue. Thus, when the first word of a series only is used, and others in the sentence are made up from the back, the centre and various slangs, there is some hope of fogging an intruding listener to a private conversation. When a man isdrunk, the rhyming slang would illustrate that fact by the words “Elephant’s trunk;” but the practised hand confines himself to the statement that “Bill’s Elephants.” “Bullock’s horn” represents to pawn, but an article is said to be “Bullocked” only; and so on through the list, providing always that the curtailment represents two syllables; if it does not, then the entire rhyme is given.
I think that this will be sufficient to guide those readers anxious to become proficient themselves, or to understand others who are themselves proficient at this item in the world of slang; and so I have nothing more to say except to call attention to the fact that, in all the other introductions, I have made my corrections, which have been neither few nor unimportant, in the text; but that I could see no way of working on the subject of the rhyming slang fairly and explicitly other than by means of this note.—Editor.
Abraham’s willing, a shilling.
Allacompain, rain.
Any racket, a penny faggot.
Apples and pears, stairs.
Artful dodger, a lodger.
Baby’s pap, a cap.
Barnet fair, hair.
Battle of the Nile, a tile—vulgar term for a hat. “Cool hisBATTLE, Bill.”
Ben flake, a steak.
Billy Button, mutton.
Birch-broom, a room.
Bird-lime, time.
Bob, my pal, a gal,—vulgar pronunciation of girl.
Bonnets so blue, Irish stew.
Bottle of spruce, a deuce,—slang for twopence.
Bowl the hoop, soup.
Brian o’Linn, gin.
Brown Bess, yes—the affirmative.
Brown Joe, no—the negative.
Bull and cow, a row.
Bucket afloat, a coat. This is also called I’mAFLOAT, and is generally contracted to “cool his Imer,” or “nark his bucket.” There is no necessity to particularize all contractions. With the key already given they will be evident.
Bullock’s horn, in pawn.
Bushy-park, a lark.
Butter flap, a trap, a light cart.
Cain and Abel, a table.
Camden-town, a brown,—vulgar term for a halfpenny.
Castle rag, a flag,—cant term for fourpence.
Cat and mouse, a house.
Chalk farm, the arm.
Charing Cross, a horse.
Charley Lancaster, a handkercher,—vulgar pronunciation of handkerchief.
Charley Prescott, a waistcoat.
Cherry ripe, a pipe.
Chevy chase, the face.
Chump(orCHUNK)of wood, no good.
Covent Garden, a farden,—Cockney pronunciation of farthing.
Cow and calf, to laugh.
Cows and kisses, mistress or missus—referring to the ladies.
Currants and plums, thrums,—slang for threepence.
Daisy roots, a pair of boots.
Dan Tucker, butter.
Ding-dong, a song.
Dry land, you understand.
Duke of York, walk, or talk, according to context.
East and south, the mouth.
Eat a fig, to “crack a crib,” to break into a house, or commit a burglary.
Egyptian hall, a ball.
Elephant’s trunk, drunk.
Epsom races, a pair of braces.
Everton toffee, coffee.
Field of wheat, a street.
Fillet of veal, the treadwheel in the house of correction.
Finger and thumb, rum.
Flag unfurled, a man of the world.
Flea and louse, a house.
Flounder and dab(two kinds of flat fish), a cab.
Fly my kite, a light.
Frog and toad, the main road.
Garden gate, a magistrate.
German flutes, a pair of boots.
Girl and boy, a saveloy,—a penny sausage.
Glorious sinner, a dinner.
Gooseberry pudding(vulgoPUDDEN), a woman.
Harry Bluff, snuff.
Hod of mortar, a pot of porter.
Hounslow Heath, teeth.
I desire, a fire.
I’m afloat, a boat. This is also used for coat.Seeante.
Isabeller(vulgar pronunciation ofISABELLA), an umbrella.
Isle of France, a dance.
I suppose, the nose.
Jack-a-dandy, brandy.
Jack Randall(a noted pugilist), a candle.
Jenny Linder, a winder,—vulgar pronunciation of window.
Joe Savage, a cabbage.
Lath and plaster, a master.
Lean and lurch, a church.
Lean and fat, a hat.
Linendraper, paper.
Live eels, fields.
Load of hay, a day.
Long acre, a baker.
Lord John Russell, a bustle.
Lord Lovel, a shovel.
Lump of coke, a bloke—vulgar term for a man.
Lump of lead, the head.
Macaroni, a pony.
Maids adorning, the morning.
Maidstone jailer, a tailor.
Mince pies, the eyes.
Mother and daughter, water.
Muffin baker, a Quaker (slang term for excrement).
Navigators, taturs,—vulgar pronunciation of potatoes.
Navigator Scot, baked potatoes all hot.
Needle and thread, bread.
Never fear, beer.
Night and day, the play.
Nose and chin, a winn,—ancient cant for a penny.
Noser my knacker, tobacco.
Oats and barley, Charley.
Oats and chaff, a footpath.
Orinoko(pronouncedORINOKER), a poker.
Over the stile, sent for trial.
Paddy Quick, thick, or a stick.
Pen and ink, a stink.
Pitch and fill, Bill,—vulgar shortening for William.
Plates of meat, the feet.
Plough the deep, to go to sleep.
Pope o’ Rome, home.
Read and write, to fight.
River Lea, tea.
Rogue and villain, a shillin,—common pronunciation of shilling.
Roll me in the dirt, a shirt.
Rory o’More, the floor. Also used to signify a whore.
Round the houses, trousies,—vulgar pronunciation of trousers.
Salmon and trout, the mouth.
Scotch Peg, a leg.
Ship in full sail, a pot of ale.
Sir Walter Scott, a pot,—generally of beer.
Snake in the grass, a looking-glass.
Sorrowful tale, three months in jail.
Split asunder, a costermonger.
Steam-packet, a jacket.
St. Martin’s-le-Grand, the hand.
Stop thief, beef.
Sugar and honey, money.
Sugar-candy, brandy.
Take a fright, night.
Three-quarters of a peck, the neck,—in writing, among experts, expressed by the simple “¾,” as it is pronounced.
Tom Tug, a mug (a fool).
Tommy o’Rann, scran,—vulgar term for food.
Tommy Tripe, to pipe; that is, to observe. “Tommy Tripe his plates of meat.”
Top Jint(vulgar pronunciation of joint), a pint—of beer.
Turtle doves, a pair of gloves.
Two-foot rule, a fool.