“What is the meaning of the prefix to the word land in each of these names?” asked Oriel of the professor.
“England or Ingle-land means the land of the fire side,” replied Fortyfolios. “Ingle is an old British word meaning the fire at which the inhabitants of a house warmed themselves or cooked their food. The natives have been from the earliest times, famous for their love of the comforts of this fire, which was usually made of coal dug out of the earth, that made a cheerful blaze in a room, and their attachment to their ingles procured the island the name of Ingle-land, which, in course of time was abbreviated into the name of England.”
“I doubt that very much, don’t you see,” here observed Dr. Tourniquet; “for in my opinion, England has a totally different derivation. The aborigines of the island were principally fishermen, and very appropriately had given to them the name of angle-ers, which means people who fish. Each separate kingdom was called a kingdom of the Angles, from the natives using an angle, and the whole island was called Angle-land, or the land of the angle, which for shortness was soon afterwards called England.”
“’Tis nothing of the kind, Dr. Tourniquet,” rejoined the professor warmly. “I wonder you should have started such an absurd idea.”
“It is quite as reasonable as yours at any rate, don’t you see,” remarked the doctor.
“It has no such pretension,” said the other in a decided manner. “I can prove that the fire or ingle was a national characteristic of the people.”
“And I can prove that fishing or angle-ing was a national characteristic of the people,” added his antagonist.
“Pooh!” exclaimed one, contemptuously.
“Pish!” cried the other.
“Ingle-land,”—resumed the professor.