Today we shall go off upon yet another excursion into one of my favorite subjects, that of the long-winded explanation of supposedly commonplace words and phrases of which neither I nor anyone I have ever met have even the slightest hint of familiarity with. I must apologize for the brevity of my introduction today, but I fear that there is more than a modest whiff of ennui emanating from my soul today, and I would fain avoid infecting you, my dear readers, with said taint, as would surely occur, were I to prolong this introduction beyond the scope of performing its mere duty as providing the sparsest of context for what shall follow. Thus with no further ado, let us rejoice in this mild exaltation in obscurity!
Pudding and Tame, familiar to most of us because of a children's chant beginning with those words, has religious associations. It is, according to the Opies' The Lore and Language of School Children, "the name of the fiend or devil 'Pudding of Tame' listed in Harnet's Popish Impostures," published way back in Shakespeare's time. The devilish implications of the name have long since been forgotten by the children who cheerfully chant: "What's my name, Puddin' and Tame. Ask me again and I'll tell you the same." Curiously enough, although the original name is English, the children's rhyme is said to have originated in Maryland. Wentworth's American Dialect Dictionary reports it as turning up all over the country-Arkansas, Mississippi, New York State, and Heaven (or the devil) only knows where else.
Spizzerinctum. This oddity from rural dialect [was previously discussed] and we mentioned that dictionaries define it as cold cash or hard money. The question that led to our discussing this word involved a minister who exhorted his followers to deliver more spizzerinctum. We implied that he was looking for a better-filled collection plate, but a West Virginian reader thought otherwise. "In this area," she writes, "the old people use the word to mean energy and enthusiasm. They say things like 'I wish I had his spizzerinctum,' when speaking about a young person. Undoubtedly this is how the minister meant the word. If you had attended an old time revival meeting in my neck of the woods, you would know that joy, energy, and enthusiasm= are much more in abundance (and much more desired) than cold cash!'"
Welsh Rabbit/Rarebit (which the more observant amongst us will recognize from a previous column). A widely held misconception is that Welsh Rabbit is a vulgar form of Welsh rarebit. Actually the opposite is true, for Welsh rarebit is merely a mannered and affected corruption of a phrase that dates back nearly to Shakespeare's time. In those days only the wealthy in Wales could afford game from royal preserves. So since rabbit itself was such a rarity, melted cheese on toast became known semi-humorously as Welsh rabbit. In a similar fashion, scrambled eggs on toast spread with anchovy butter came to be called Scotch Woodcock. Up in New England today, you may occasionally hear codfish called Cape Cod turkey. It's unfortunate that the editors of some cookbooks have helped to spread the nice-nellyism rarebit. Perhaps it's because the term has long been a favorite of restaurant menu writers-a curious breed who seem never to be able to say anything simply. H. W. Fowler, as usual, has a brusque and trenchant commentary on the manner. "Welsh rabbit," he writes, "is amusing and right, and Welsh rarebit stupid and wrong."
One more stitch in the wildcat's tail. This odd expression comes to our attention in a note from a reader who said that his grandmother, after finishing a difficult job, would say: "Well that's one more stitch in the wildcat's tail." We asked our column readers if any could tell us more about the expression, and Frank Flanagan obliged. He wrote: "My late father, God rest his merry soul, would now and then come home smelling of strong drink and with a yen to sing. He had a very good voice, and he could really belt out his favorite songs. One of them went like this, to my Jewish mother's disgust:
'Way down south in St. Augustine,
a wildcat jumped on a sewing machine.
The sewing machine was going so fast
It took 44 stitches in the wildcat's...'
Maybe the lady made a slight change in her version."
