The Horologicon: A Day's Jaunt through the Lost Words of the English Language Read Online Free

during the night with no better motive than to tangle up your hair. The sad result, which you will see reflected, is elf-locks.
    Then there are the wrinkles and, in extreme cases,
wrines
(these are the big ones); the crows’ feet, the
frumples
, the
frounces
, the lurking
lirks
and a million other synonyms for the lines on your face, which are, after all, merely signs of how thoughtful and wise you are.
    There’s also the
culf
, which is the name for the bed fluff that has lodged in your navel. There are the red
ferret-eyes
through which you’re looking. There’s the
ozostomia
and
bromodrosis
, which is what a doctor would call your stinking breath and sweat, because doctors have a lovely habit of insulting you in Greek, which softens the blow. Almost anything sounds softer in a classical language. For example, if a fellow were to suggest that you stank of horse piss, you would probably take offence, but if he merely said that you were
jumentous
, you might imagine that the chap was telling you that you were
jubilant
and
momentous
, or something along those lines. You might even thank him.
    All in all, though, you are
idiorepulsive
(you disgust even yourself) and something really ought be done about it soon. However, I fear that things must get worse before they can get better.
    On particularly bad mornings, this may be the time to attempt a
through cough
. These aren’t easy. I have tried it myself and consistently failed. If you can cough and fart at precisely the same instant then you have achieved what was known – two hundredyears ago – as a through cough, and can therefore continue the rest of the day with a feeling of secret satisfaction.
    Anyway, a through cough is only the preface to the lowest part of the day – that part when you are no better than a beast and no worse than a monarch: the lavatory.
Part II: The Spice Islands
    In the Book of Samuel, as the whole history and future of salvation is being worked out between Saul and David, everything comes to rest upon Saul’s popping to the lavatory. Not, of course, that they had proper lavatories in those days. Salvation was not that far advanced. But as Saul with his army hunted for David beside the Dead Sea, he found that his dinner was, like his kingship of Israel, a fleeting thing that he would be forced to relinquish.
    Then Saul took three thousand chosen men out of all Israel, and went to seek David and his men upon the rocks of the wild goat. And he came to the sheepcotes by the way, where was a cave; and Saul went in to cover his feet: and David and his men remained in the sides of the cave. And the men of David said unto him, Behold the day of which the L ORD said unto thee, Behold I will deliver thine enemy into thine hand, that thou mayest do to him as it shall seem good unto thee. Then David arose, and cut off the skirt of Saul’s robe privily.
    What concerns us here is not the question of who was truly the Lord’s anointed, nor the symbolism of the king’s cloak, nor even the necessity of checking your lavatory carefully for rival claimants to the throne; but the delightful phrase
to cover his feet
, whichis a literal rendering of the ancient Hebrew meaning to do the necessities of nature.
    If the Bible teaches us one thing, it’s that you should never be so vulgar as to call a spade a spade or a lavatory a lavatory. Even if you choose not to cover your feet (which should already have pantofles on them), you can disguise your baseness with all sorts of lovely phrases. The Victorians would visit
Mrs Jones
, or
my aunt
, or
the coffee shop
, although that last phrase may be too suggestive for those of a liquid disposition. Others have been more exotic. In the thirteenth century they would visit
a chamber foreign
, or in the eighteenth century you could take
a voyage to the Spice Islands
, these being the most exotic place imaginable, and particularly appropriate for the morning after a curry.
    However, these references to exoticism may be