gentleman, whose nationality he conceals, which, whether true or not, but too faithfully represents the way pictures are often treated. This man, it seems, had a portrait of the reigning king in the principal room of his house:—
“On his majesty’s death, to save himself the expense of a fresh body and a new suit of ermine, he employed a painter to brush out the face and periwig, and clap the new king’s head on his grandfather’s shoulders; which he declared were in the most perfect preservation, and fully able to wear out three or four such heads as painters usually give in these degenerate days.”—Sixth edition, 1795, vol. ii. p. 64.
An absurd instance of this occurs in an engraving in two well-known books. The ‘Display of Heraldry,’ of John Guillim, issued in 1679, contains, facing the title, a portrait of Charles II. The edition of 1724 has this plate reproduced, with the head cut out and that of George I. inserted. The change has been carefully effected, but on comparing the plates there can be no doubt that, with the exception of the head, they are the same. K. P. D. E.
Baronetcy in Blank.—The following extract from the will of Richard Smith, Esq., of Calshot Castle, who died in 1630, is curious:—
“Whereas Captaine George Kenithorpe did bequeath a blank for a Barronett for my sonne Richard Smith if I would have him take it, now my will is that my sonne when he comes to the age of one and twentie yeares shall accept it, unless in the meane tyme Mrs. Katherine Kenithorpe will be contented to lett him share in the profit of it, if it may be sold.”
R. Smith, junior, did not take the title. Whether it was found possible to sell it I do not know. T. Lewis O. Davies.
Unemployed Substantives.—Why do nearly all the papers and their correspondents make use of bâtons (generally spelt “batons”) in writing about the police and the mob? Surely staves, or truncheons, are as good (they knock quite as hard, anyway), and are the usual English terms to boot! Of course, the popular delight in new-fangled and needless words is an everlasting folly; but it is perhaps worth while to lend a helping hand to save two deserving old words from “joining the ranks of the ‘unemployed.’” H. C. S.
Practical Jokes in Comedy.—It has occurred to me, and possibly to many others, that the plots of Skakspeare’s comedies depend very much on practical jokes. A joke played on Malvolio is the foundation of most of the comic matter in ‘Twelfth Night.’ The tricks played upon Falstaff in the ‘Merry Wives of Windsor’ and the first part of ‘Henry IV.’ are of this sort. The best scene in ‘All’s Well that Ends Well’ is the result of a practical joke played on Parolles. In ‘Much Ado about Nothing,’ also, the practical joke appears, though not so conspicuously as in some of the other plays. I do not call to mind that the intrigue in comedy of other great writers often takes this form. There is practical joking in ‘She Stoops to Conquer,’ which, however, is very farcical comedy. There is also practical joking in Congreve’s comedies, as where Mrs. Frail is married to Tattle. But this sort of fun seems to me more proper to farce than to comedy, though, of course, no one can wish it away from Shakspeare, Congreve, or Goldsmith. E. Yardley.
Anglo-Hindustani Words.—Students of phonology may be interested in seeing the forms taken by some common English words on their introduction into Hindústání, the lingua franca of India. The following are all in common use, and several have become naturalized so completely that natives in using them are not aware that they are employing English words. The list is only a small sample of those which are actually current, but it will serve to show the transition of the liquids r and n to l, and the growth of folk-etymology:—
Bálbar=barber. The word bál means “hair” in Hindústání, as in Gypsy, hence the word at once acquires a meaning in the native mind.
Bakas=box. Botal=bottle. In these two words the accent is thrown back on the first syllable.
Dabal=double, but it has acquired the sense of “large,” hence dabal rol⟨l⟩ means a large loaf of bread, dabal chikan, a fowl.
Daráj=drawers; generally used of the article of apparel, but often of furniture.
Darjan=dozen, There is probably a confusion in the native mind with another word darja, which means a gradation or rank.
Flallálén=flannel. The transitiou of n to l is strongly marked in this word, although Prof. Skeat has pointed out that flannen, as an old form of the word, occurs in 1652.
Gálisí=gallows, an old provincial word for braces.
Gilás=glass, but generally used for a drinking vessel of any material.
Giráskat=grasscutter. The final syllable is for some reason always dropped in Hindústání.
Hátíchak, Hátípich. Of these two words, which are both derived from artichoke, the former is generally used to denote the prickly variety, and the latter the Jerusalem artichoke.
Ketalí=kettle. Accent on first syllable.
Márkin=American cotton cloth. In Kiswahílí the term is Merikáni.
Mistrí=master, but employed to denote any artificer in wood, metal, or stone.
Paltan=battalion, one of the oldest Anglo-Hindústání words.
Parmit=permit, or Custom House pass; thence used to denote the Custom House itself.
Rél=railway. The final syllable of the English word is invariably dropped.
Salád=salad, with accent on the second syllable. Generally used for lettuce alone.
Sánbíf=sandwich. A curious instance of the mental association of the article with the material of which it is principally composed.
Trél=tray, with the addition of a final liquid.
I omit a large number of military and culinary
