PECULIARITIES OF SPEECH.
To us that one by which the English drop the letter h where it belongs, and put it on where it does not, is one of the most striking; as, Harable land is ’eavier taxed; my huncle is not very ’ealthy.
Two ways of speaking that are called Yankee with us are found here; one is the sharp ou.
“Please tell me,” I inquired, “where Mr. G.’s house is.”
“It’s the last hayoose in tayoon; a big hayoose,” answered the boy.
The other “Yankee” peculiarity is dropping the letter r. School-children said ’osses for horses. Buttah was said for butter, and Hemmingford sounded like Emmenfauld. A woman spoke of a certain Mr. Halbut. I had thought that his name was Wiseman. Yes; Mr. Halbut (Albert) Wiseman.
Comin’ I heard for coming; they used to say shay-house for chaise-house; and I am told that in Norfolk they say du and tu for do and to.
The carpenter’s wife said, “The bread is silly,” meaning heavy.
A spinney is a grove.
Laboring men call a lunch a dockey; and in another neighborhood a beaver.
Said an innkeeper, “The people come to flit them,”—to help them move.
Frequently “I dare say” becomes dessay, or I’d say.
We say to-day; they also say to-year. And when it begins to thaw, they say the weather is ungiving, it ungives.
APPENDIX.
THE PENNSYLVANIA GERMAN DIALECT.
The “Pennsylvania Dutch,” which is spoken over a large portion of our own State, and is also heard in Maryland, Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, is not divided into dialects as are the languages of many European countries, but seems to be nearly homogeneous. The following specimen was taken from the lips of a working-woman born in Cumberland County, Pennsylvania, of German descent, but who learned most of her “Dutch” in the State of Maryland. She now lives in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. An English article was read to her; and with some little difficulty she turned it into the version given. This version was submitted to a learned gentleman born in the eastern part of this State, but now living in Lancaster, and he declared it to be a good specimen of Pennsylvania German. I have abbreviated it, and give the English first, so that the difficulty may be observed which the translator found in the version.
“At Millville, New Jersey, about noon, while everybody in town was going to dinner, a deer came dashing down through the main street, and right behind it followed a dozen dogs, barking the loudest they knew how. Every dog on the line of the chase joined in, so that when the edge of the town was reached there were nearly fifty dogs after the deer. One solitary horseman caught on to the procession before it left town, and he was soon followed by a score of others, and inside of half an hour there were only women and factory hands left in the town. The deer got into the woods and escaped. A hound, which a merchant sent to Philadelphia for on Thursday, brought the deer to bay, and the merchant’s son fired the fatal shot.”
“An Millville, New Jersey, about Mitdog, wie all die Leit in der Stadt zu Mittag gange sin, en Hayrsch is darrich die main Schtross schprunge, und recht hinne noch ein dutzet Hund noch schprunge, und hen so laut gejolt als sie hen könne. All die Hund in der Schtadt sind oof die Geschpoor und sin noch; so wie sie an die End von der Schtadt sin der ware about fufzig Hund am Hayrsch noch. Ein ehnzige Reiter ist noch eh sie aus der Schtadt kumme sind und es ware gly zwanzig meh, und in weniger als en Halb-stund da war Niemand meh in der Schtadt als Wipesleit und die factory Hendt. Der Hayrsch ist in der Busch kumme und sie hen ihn verlore. En Houns voo ein Merchant in Philadelphia geschickt hat dafore, hat den Hayrsch schtill schteh mache; und der Merchant sei Sohn hat ihn dote schosse.”
But although the Pennsylvania German is not divided into the great number of dialects or varieties found in Europe (I hear that there are about fifty in little Switzerland), yet there are differences here in the spoken dialect. While visiting at the house of a gentleman born in Lehigh County, but living in Lebanon, the following were pointed out to me. In Lehigh a lantern is a lutzer; in Lebanon, lattern. In the former the word for orchard is boongart; in the latter, bomegarte. Meadow is Schwamm in the former, and Viss in the latter. The adverb orrick (arg) is very much used in Pennsylvania German; but a clergyman coming to live in Lebanon County was reproved by some of his plain friends for its use. Perhaps it is nearly synonymous with our darned,—“That’s darned cheap.” Der Arge in the Bible is the evil one.
Mr. Weiser, of the Reformed Church, finds differences in adjoining counties. Thus, in Berks a set of bars in a fence is en Falder; in Montgomery, E’fahrt (or a place to drive through). In Lehigh they say of a drunken man, “Er hat e Kischt ah” (he carries a chest); but this is not heard in the near parts of Montgomery. Tomatoes are sometimes, I think, called Goomeranze in Allentown, and in Bucks County Boomeranze (from Pomeranze, an orange); but this is not heard in Lancaster County.
A learned German in Philadelphia says that several different dialects have flowed like streams into Pennsylvania,—one the Palatinate, another the Suabian, a third Allemanian, a fourth Swiss; and Prof. Dubbs, of Franklin and Marshall College, Lancaster, but born in Allentown, finds in the region with which he is familiar, east of the Susquehanna, three plainly marked sub-dialects. The one east of the Schuylkill is marked by the diminutive chen in the place of lein. In that district a little pig is called Säuche, and west of the Schuylkill Säulie (for Säulein). A third sub-dialect, he says, is peculiar to some of the sects of Lancaster County. It is probably of Swiss origin, and is marked by a broad drawl. (The late Prof. Haldeman remarked that in our dialect the perfect is used for the imperfect tense, as in Swiss; so that for “ich sagte” (I said) we have “ich hab ksaat” (gesagt), and for “ich hatte” (I had) we have “ich hab kat” (gehabt)).
(The following excellent remarks on the Pennsylvania dialect are taken from an article in the Mercersburg Review by Prof. Stahr, now also of Franklin and Marshall College, Lancaster. I have made some trifling alterations, mostly in parenthesis.)
“It is of course impossible in our present limits to specify all the peculiarities of Pennsylvania German, so as to give an adequate idea of its form to those who are not familiar with it. We may, however, state a few general principles, which will enable any one conversant with High German to read and understand the dialect without difficulty. In the first place it must be borne in mind that the letters have the South German sound: a has the broad sound like the English aw; st and sp whenever they occur sound broad, like scht and schp, etc. Secondly, letters are commuted or changed. Instead of the proper sound of the modified vowel or Umlaut ō, we find the sound of the German ē or the English ā, and instead of ü we find ie or i, equivalent to the English i in machine, or the same shortened as in pin. Instead of the proper sound of eu, we have the German ei or the English ī. Instead of au, particularly when it undergoes modification in inflections, we have broad a or aa in the unmodified, and ä or āā in the modified, form. Thus we have Baam for Baum, and Bääm’ for Baüme; laafe’ for laufen, and laaft or lääft for laüft. The diphthong ei is often changed into long e or ee. Thus for Stein we have Stee’ (pronounced Shtay), for Bein, Bee’, for Eid we have Eed, for Leid, Leed. A is often changed into o, as Johr for Jahr, Hoor for Haar; i is changed into e, as werd for wird (Es wird Schlimm is spoken Schvate schlimm), Hert for Hirt, etc. Consonants are also frequently changed; b into w (Bievel is heard for Bibel), p into b, t into d, etc. Thirdly, words are shortened by dropping the terminations, especially n of the infinitive or generally after e. Prefixes are frequently contracted, so also compound words. Thus instead of werden, folgen, fangen, we have werre’, folge’, fange’; einmal becomes emol; nicht mehr, nimme, etc. Fourthly, the Pennsylvania dialect uses High German words in a different sense. Thus for Pferd, horse, we have Gaul, which in High German means a heavy farm-horse or an old horse; gleiche, from the High German gleichen, to resemble, means in the Pennsylvania dialect, to like; gucke’, from High German gucken, to peep, to pry, means to look. Finally, we find English words introduced in their full form, either with or without German prefixes and modifications; e.g., Store (Schtore), Rüles, Cäpers, Circumstänces, trävele, stärte, fixe, fighte.
“Nouns have scarcely any changes of form, except to distinguish singular and plural. These, where they exist, are the same as in High German. One of the most striking peculiarities is this: the genitive case is never used to indicate possession, the dative is used in connection with a possessive pronoun. Thus instead of Der Hut des Mannes (the hat of the man) we find Dem Mann sei’ Hut (to the man his hat).... The definite article is used for dieser, diese, dieses (this), and seller, selle, sell, for jener, jene, jenes (that). The adverb wo is used instead of the relatives welcher, welche, welches.
“In inflecting pronouns, mir is used instead of wir (us). The verb has no imperfect tense; the perfect is always used for it in Pennsylvania German. (And it will be observed, I think, that those accustomed to speaking the dialect will use the perfect thus in English.)
“From wollen we have: Ich will, du witt, er will, mir wolle’, ihr wolle’, sie wolle’; and from haben: Ich hab, du hoscht, er hot, mir hen (from han, haben), ihr hen, sie hen.”
The number of writers in the dialect is becoming numerous. There are Mr. Zimmermann and Dr. Bruner, of Berks County, Rev. F. J. F. Schantz, originally of Lehigh, and Rev. Eli Keller and Mr. Henninger of the same; also Miss Bahn and Mr. H. L. Fisher, of York County. The most popular writer is the late Henry Harbaugh, of the Reformed Church, whose poems are collected under the title Harbaugh’s Harfe. Among them the favorite is Das alt Schulhaus an der Krick. (The old school-house on the creek.) In publishing this volume, the English words introduced after the manner of our Pennsylvania Germans have been generally replaced by German, so that it is not a perfect specimen of the spoken language. Here follow a few lines from Harbaugh’s Heimweh, or Homesickness:
“Wie gleich ich selle Babble-Beem!
Sie schtehn wie Brieder dar;
Un uf’m Gippel—g’wiss ich leb!
Hock’t alleweil ’n Schtaar!
’S Gippel biegt sich—guk, wie’s gaunscht,
’R hebt sich awer fescht;
Ich seh sei rothe Fliegle plehn
Wann er sei Feddere wescht;
Will wette, dass sei Fraale hot
Uf sellem Baam ’n Nescht.”
How well I love those poplar-trees,
That stand like brothers there!
And on the top, as sure’s I live,
A blackbird perches now.
The top is bending, how it swings!
But still the bird holds fast.
How plain I saw his scarlet wings
When he his feathers dressed!
I’ll bet you on that very tree
His deary has a nest.
The most witty prose articles that I have met are some in Wollenweber’s Gemälde aus dem Pennsylvanischen Volkleben. (Pictures of Pennsylvania Life.)
Mr. E. H. Rauch (Pit Schwefflebrenner) accommodates himself to the great number of our “Dutch” people who do not read German by writing the dialect phonetically, in this manner: “Der klea meant mer awer, sei net recht g’sund for er kreisht ols so greisel-heftict orrick (arg) in der nacht. De olt Lawbucksy behawpt es is was mer aw gewocksa heast, un meant mer set braucha derfore. Se sawya es waer an olty fraw drivva im Lodwaerrickshteddle de kennt’s aw wocksa ferdreiv mit warta, im aw so a g’schmeer hut was se mocht mit gensfet.” (The little one seems to me not to be quite well, for he cries so dreadfully in the night. Old Mrs. Lawbucks maintains that he is what we call grown (enlargement of the liver), and thinks that I should powwow for it. She says that there was an old woman in Apple-butter town who knew how to drive away the growth with words, and who has too an ointment that she makes with goose-fat.)
I have already stated that our Pennsylvania dialect has been thought to be formed from different European sources; but Mr. H. L. Fisher, of York, has lately shown me a collection of Nadler’s poems in the Palatinate dialect, which, he says, more nearly resemble our idiom than anything else which he has seen. Also at Allentown, Mr. Dubbs, of the Reformed Church, has mentioned a collection which he thinks resembles much our Pennsylvania German. It is the poems of Ludwig Schandein, in the Westrich dialect. These are both dialects of the Rhenish Palatinate, the former of the district on the Rhine, the latter of the western or more mountainous part. And as the Germans coming into Pennsylvania were at one time called Palatines, it is not remarkable that these Palatinate dialects resemble ours. Here is a specimen of the eastern or lowland dialect:
“Yetz erscht waasz i’s, yetz erscht glaaw i’s,
Was mar in de Lieder singt;
Yetz erscht glaaw i’s, dann jetz waasz i’s,
Dasz die Lieb aam Schmerze bringt.
“Nachdigalle dhune schlage,
Dasz ’s dorch Berg un Dhäler klingt;
Unser Bawrebuwe awwer
Dasz aam’s Herz im Leib verschpringt!”
At last I know, at last believe it,
That what our poets sing is so;
At last I think, yes, now I know it,
That love brings also pain and woe.
The nightingales so sweetly warble,
Their notes through hill and dale do ring;
But oh! the heart in the breast is riven
Whene’er our peasant boys do sing!
Here is a specimen from Schandein’s poems in the Westrich dialect:
“So lewe wul, ehr liewe Alte,
Do i’s mei’ Hann, Glick uf die Rês!
De’ liewe Herrgott losze walte,
Dann Er es wul am beschte wêsz;
Un machen euch kê’ Gram und Sorje
Ya denken an ihn alle Dah:
Er sorgt jo heut, er sorgt ah morje,
Er sorgt ah in Amerika.”
Dr. Dubbs, of Franklin and Marshall College, has kindly given me this verse from his own translation:
“Farewell! and here’s my hand, old neighbors!
May blessings on your journey rest!
Leave God to order all the future,
For He alone knows what is best.
And do not yield to grief or sorrow,
Trust in His mercy day by day;
He reigns to-day, he reigns to-morrow,
He reigns too in America.”
Various estimates have been given me of the numbers speaking the dialect in different parts of our State. Thus a lawyer in York County, beyond the Susquehanna, says that there are still witnesses coming to court, natives of the county, who do not speak English, and whose testimony is translated by an interpreter. Crossing the Susquehanna easterly, we come to my own county, Lancaster. My own neighborhood, near the Pennsylvania Central Railway, is much Anglicized. The southern part of the county is greatly “English,” but as I was riding lately in the north, on the railway which connects Reading in Berks, to Columbia in Lancaster, a conductor estimated that along the forty-six miles of the railway about nine out of ten of the travellers can speak German. In Reading I am told in a lawyer’s office that three-fourths of the women who come in to do business speak “Pennsylvania Dutch.” My tavern-keeper says that many come to his house, born in the county, who cannot speak English. Another lawyer estimates that of the country people born in Berks County, three-fourths would rather speak Pennsylvania German than English; and another thinks that in the rural districts of the county from one-half to two-thirds prefer to speak the dialect, although perhaps half of these can talk English. Another person says that when there is a circus or county fair at Reading, which draws the farmers’ families, you hardly hear English, for the store-keepers accommodate themselves to the visitors. One of my friends, born in Germany, says that she saw at a forge in Berks County colored people, men, women, and children, that could not speak English; they spoke Pennsylvania German. If, now, we pass northerly to Lehigh County, we come to “Pennsylvania Dutch” land par excellence, for in no other county of our State are the people so nearly of unmixed German origin. I am told of Allentown, the county seat, with a population of about nineteen thousand, that Pennsylvania German, “Dutch,” is the prevailing language. A lawyer estimates that more than one-fourth of its inhabitants do not speak English if they can help it, and a considerable number in town, born in this region, do not speak English at all. Of the county, a physician says that three-fourths of the people speak Pennsylvania German more easily than English, and another that nearly all the country people would rather speak the dialect.
East of Lehigh lies another very German county, Northampton. The county town Easton is, however, connected with New Jersey by a bridge over the Delaware, and Easton is to a very considerable degree Anglicized. Easton is the seat of a great Presbyterian institution, Lafayette College; yet a professor tells me that the Presbyterian Church cannot overcome the Lutheran and Reformed element. The Lutheran Church, he says, is very strong. Of the same county I was told some years ago that the people generally spoke German, except along the New Jersey line, and that outside of Easton and Bethlehem three-fourths of the people are Reformed and Lutheran. At the same period, about nine years ago, a physician told me that the public-school teachers in the rural parts must necessarily speak German for the children to obtain ideas, or must interpret English to them. These counties, with Lebanon, six in number, are the great German ones, beginning with York on the southwest, and ending with Northampton on the northeast; but the Pennsylvania German population is by no means confined to these counties. It spreads along the cultivated soil like grass. Adjoining Berks and Lehigh is Montgomery, the northern part of which is very “Dutch.” Here I visited a preacher of one of our plain sects, whose great-grandfather came from Germany. But he, himself, speaks very little or no English, and he employed the ticket-agent to answer an English letter. One son and his children live under the same roof, making six generations in Pennsylvania; but the whole household uses the German dialect.
It must not be supposed of a large part of the Pennsylvania Germans that they are unacquainted with pure German. A simple and pure German they find in the Bible and in their German newspapers, of which there are several, altogether enjoying a large circulation. Also, at least in the Reformed and Lutheran Churches, there are many ministers who preach in pure German. Yet, when the minister goes to dine with a parishioner, they generally speak the dialect. The minister who speaks this to his flock is more popular. They could understand the higher German; but they say of him when he speaks the dialect, “Er iss en gemehner Mann” (He is a common, plain man, or one who doesn’t put on airs.)
A gentleman in Lebanon, born in Berks, told me that he should be pleased to speak German as it is in the Bible. “But,” he added, “as soon as a person begins to use pure German here among his acquaintances the Pennsylvania Dutch will say, ‘Des iss ane Fratz-Hans,’ or a high-flown fellow; or, as it may be rendered, ‘He’s full of conceit.’”
One of the most amusing things in the dialect is the adopting and transforming of English words, as “Ich habe en Prediger entgetscht,”—I have engaged a preacher; “Do hat der Eirisch gemehnt er wott triede,”—the Irishman thought he would treat; “Sie henn en guter Tietscher katt, der hot die Kinner vieler Leut getietscht,”—they had a good teacher, who taught the children of many people; “Ich will dir’s exsplehne,”—I will explain it to you; “Er hat mich inweitet,”—he invited me; “Do hen sie anfange ufzukotte und zu lache,”—then they began to cut up and laugh. A workman who was tired of waiting for material said, “Sie hen us nau lang genug ’rum gebaffelt”—they have baffled or disappointed us long enough.
On the amount of English that is sometimes introduced into the dialect, a lawyer in Lebanon says that of the Pennsylvania Dutch which he uses in his political speeches, or in his practice, fully one-third is English. This specimen was given to me by a lawyer in Allentown, as the opening of a political speech: “Ich bin desirous um euch zu explaine die prerogative powers fum President.” And this a lawyer to his client: “Ich bin certain das die Opinion was ich den morge geexpress hab, correct war.”
Before leaving the subject of the idiom, I give some of the peculiar expressions heard in speaking English. A neighbor told me of her daughter’s being invited to a picnic, and added, “I don’t know what I’ll wear on her.”
Said a tavern-keeper’s wife, “Don’t jine sweeping.” “It’s time to jine sweeping,” was the reply.
A girl got into a car near Mauch Chunk, and had headache.
“Don’t sit with your back to the engine,” I suggested.
“Do you sink?” she asked me. (Do you think so?)
“I guess it will give a gust,” is said in Lancaster County.
“Do you want butter-bread?” (or bread and butter.) “No, I’d rather have coffee-soup,”—i.e., bread broken into coffee.
“Mary, come down to the woods.” “I dassent.” She does not mean that she is afraid, but that she is not permitted, like the German durfen.
“I’m perfectly used to travel every wich way.”
“A body gets dired if they dravel.”
“Mind Ressler? He was in Sprecher’s still;” or, “Do you remember Ressler? He used to be employed in Sprecher’s store.”
“It’s raining a’ready, mother,” or, “Where’s Mrs. M.?” “She went to bed a’ready.”
“I guess that Mrs. B. does not spend all her income.”
“She didn’t still.”
“She’d rather be married to him as to keep house for him” (like the German als).
We think those very “Dutch” who say “Sess” for Seth, “bass-house” for bath-house. Thus it would be, Beslem is in Norsampton County.
“I’m fetching a pig. I had it bestowed.”
“We’re getting strangers, and I was fetched.” (They are expecting company at our house, and they sent for me to come home.)
“Mrs. M., how does your garden grow?” “Just so middlin’.”
“Your head is strubly,” means that your hair is tumbled.
A scientific friend, wishing to examine a specimen, said, “Let me see it once.”
Of the same kind are these: “When we get moved once.” “You’ll know what it is when you hain’t got no father no more once.” (This use of once has been alluded to in the text.)
“Mother, don’t be so cross!” “I ought to be cross” (angry).
I do not know that it is “Dutch” to say, “Did you kiss your poppy?” or, “Barbara, where’s your pap?” (for father).
“How are you, Chrissly?” (diminutive of Christian.) “Oh! I’ve got it so in the back.”
Those who live among Pennsylvania Germans cannot fail to observe that when they, speaking English, make mention of a couple, as, “She gave me a couple of peaches,” they do not generally mean two only. Couple has doubtless to them the same meaning as the German word Paar, which is defined by Whitney “a couple, two or three, a few, sundry.”
I cannot tell the deviation of our interjection of pain, Owtch!
Ok! is doubtless the German Ach! or is it Irish?
And what is the derivation of “Sahdie?” so much used by children for “Thank you.”
There is a word neither of English nor German origin which is sometimes used as a salutation by Pennsylvania Germans. It is familiarly Hottiay. Few would divine to see it thus that it is the French adieu.