GLOSSARY OF THE BACK SLANG.
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, “COOL the 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. See [DOOGHENO].
Da-erb, bread.
Deb, or DAB, a bed; “I’m off to the DEB,” 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 a DOOGHENO HIT this 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 little EMAG.”
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. Esclop is pronounced “slop” simply, but the c was 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 with YANNEPS or GENS. 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. See preceding 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 to GEN.
Genitraf, a farthing.
Gen-net, or NET GEN, ten shillings.
Genol, long.
| Hel-bat, a table. | } | The aspirate is matter of taste. |
| Helpa, an apple. |
Kanitseeno, a stinking one. Kanits is a stink.
Kennurd, drunk.
Kew (or more properly KEEU), a week.
Kews, SKEW, or SKEEU, 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. See [ESCLOP].
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 fo OCCABOT,” bit of tobacco.
Ogging ot tekram, going to market.
On, no.
On doog, no good.
| Owt gen, two shillings. | } | Owt is pronounced OAT. |
| 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, or RATTAT, a “tatur,” or potato.
See-otches, shoes.
Sey, yes. Pronounced SEE.
Shif, fish.
Sirretch, cherries. Very often SIRRETCHES.
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. See [ESCLOP].
Sneerg, greens.
| Spinsrap, parsnips. | ⎫ | All these will take the s, 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. A TAF ENO is a fat man or woman, literally A FAT ONE.
Taoc, a coat. “Cool the DELO 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, otherwise TADGER.
Tenip, a pint.
Theg (or TEAICH) gen, eight shillings.
Theg (or TEAITCH) yanneps, eightpence.
Tib, a bit, or piece.
Tol, lot, stock, or share.
Top-yob, a potboy.
Torrac, a carrot. “Ekat a TORRAC.”
Trork, a quart.
Trosseno, literally, “one sort,” but professional slangists use it to imply anything that is bad. Tross, among costermongers, means anything bad. 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, or JERK-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.
SOME ACCOUNT
OF
THE RHYMING SLANG.
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 slang is 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 frightful railway 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—see [FAWNEY-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 a Speel 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.