AS LAZY AS LUDLUM'S DOG.
(Vol. i., p. 382.)
I feel obliged by the extract from the Doctor given by J. M. B. (Vol. i., p. 475.), though it only answers by a kind of implication the Query I proposed. That implication is, that, instead of Ludlum and his dog being personages of distinction in their own way and in their own day, the proverb itself is merely one framed on the principle of alliteration, and without precise or definite "meaning." This is very full of meaning, as anyone may convince himself by observing the active energy of every muscle of all dogs in the act of barking. What can typify "laziness" more emphatically than a dog that "lays him[self] down to bark?"
A jingle of some kind is essential to a proverb. If a phrase or expression have not this, it never "takes" with the masses; whilst, having this, and being capable of any possible and common application, it is sure to live, either as a proverb or a "saw," as the case may be. Alliteration and rhyme are amongst the most frequent of these "jingles;" and occasionally a "pun" supplies their place very effectively. We find these conditions fulfilled in the proverbs and saws of every people in the eastern and western world, alike in the remotest antiquity and in our own time. But are they therefore "without meaning?" Do not these qualities help to give them meaning, as well as to preserve them through their long and varied existence?
But there is another principle equally essential to the constitution of a legitimate and lasting proverb; or rather two conjointly, metre and euphony. These may be traced in the proverb as completely as in the ballad; and precisely the same contrivances are employed to effect them in both cases where any ruggedness in the natural collocation of the words may present itself. For instance, change in the accent, the elision or the addition of a letter or syllable, the lengthening of a vowel, transposition, and a hundred other little artifices. The euphony itself, though sometimes a little imperfect, is also studied with the same kind of care in the older and purer proverbs of all languages.
Attention to metre and euphony will generally enable us to assign, amongst the forms in which we pick up and note any particular proverb, the original and legitimate one; especially when combined with brevity and "pith." As a case in point, our friend Ludlum will serve our purpose for comparison. Who does not see at a glance, taking account of the principles which govern the construction of a proverb, that the Sheffield version, as I gave it, must be more genuine than Southey's version, quoted by J. M. B.? Besides this, I may add, that a friend, whose early days were spent in Sheffield, has told, me (since the Query was proposed) that he has heard his mother tell some legend of "the fat Miss Ludlum." After all, therefore, the proverb may be founded on a fat old maid and her fat poodle. I can hardly, then, deem my inquiry answered.
J. M. B. quotes two others from the Doctor; one for the purpose, as would appear by his marking the words, to illustrate the alliterative principle. The following are variations which I have heard:—"As proud as the cobbler's dog, that took [or as took—the most general vernacular form, for the sake of euphony] the wall of a dung-cart, and got crushed for his pains." "As queer as Dick's hatband as went nine times round and wouldn't tie."
On these I will only remark, that few persons would pronounce dung-cart as J. M. B. implies, even for alliteration; and, indeed, when so even marked to the eye, it is not without an effort that we can read accordingly. As to Dick's hatband, it is expressed in a peculiarly clumsy and round-about manner by Southey.
One word more. J. M. B. quotes as a proverb—one of those without meaning—"As busy as Batty;" and says, "no one knows who Batty was." Surely, the inference that Batty was not a real personage in some distant age—that he was a mere myth—must be a non sequitur from the premises before us. Perhaps Mr. Batty was a person of notable industry—perhaps remarkable for always beings in a "fluster"—perhaps the rural Paul Pry of his day and district. He has left, too, a large progeny; whether as regards the name alone, or whichever of the characters he bore.