 | NEW AMERICAN DICTIONARY. Saratoga in 1901 |  |
NEW AMERICAN DICTIONARY.
I found, on examination, that these terms were almost all
foreign importations; they came straight from London. They
were simply the literary coinage which passes among the London
dinner.
It wounds my national pride to think that we had to depend
entirely on England for these “cant” phrases. It was a sad
thing that in bob-tail grammar, that great mark of civilization,
we should be, indeed, behind London. With tears in my eyes,
I turned away from the sad spectacle—a nation's humiliation. I
resolved that we should be no longer eclipsed—that we should
“bang” the tail of language as well as they.
So in 1901 I invented a new dictionary, or appropriated one
which was being used by a young lady friend.
Startling invention!
And so simple! In five minutes' practice you can express
precisely, by the terms of this new discovery, every sentiment or
emotion of the human heart. Linley Murray, who caused so
much unhappiness to our forefathers, is at last superseded—
eclipsed—“thrown into the shade.”
Thoughts are now expressed in percentages. One hundred is
the superlative or the par basis of every emotion, quality, quantity,
or sentiment. The rate below one hundred gives the precise
positive and comparative value of the object rated.
See how in our conversations we now eclipse the old “swells”
of the Brevoort House and the cockney chaps of Rotten Row!
“How did you like Longfellow before he died, Miss Smith?”
“100.”
“Tennyson?”
“75.”
Now, hate or disgust, which are negative emotions, or rather
passions, are expressed by the negative sign (-) before the percentage,
while positive passion of love, as Lord Kame calls it, or
adoration, is expressed by the plus sign (+) after the percentage.
“How did you like poor dead Walt Whitman?”
“—5.” (She hates him.)
“Is Mr. Brown good-looking?”
“60.”
“Dress well?”
“80.”
“How do you like him?”
“95.” (Strong friendship.)
“How is the weather?”
“100.” (Beautiful.) (25, shabby; 10, atrocious.)
“What theatre do you like best?”
“Wallack's 95; Booth's 90; Niblo's 50; Bowery, 20.”
“Is Smith clever?”
“—10.” (He's a fearful “bore.”)
“Do you love me, darling?”
“75.” (Cool friendship.)
“How do you like Mr. Thompson, the banker?”
“105+.” (Heavens! She's in love with him.)
“Like to dance the round dances?”
“120+.” (Adores them!)
“Fond of the square dances?”
“—25.” (Despises them.)
“Will you be sure to give me first `round' at the next Inauguration
Ball?”
“100.”
“How was Mr. Tweed for honesty?”
“—75.” (How much nicer than to say he stole!)
“Was Mr. Greeley honest before he died?”
“100 generally, 95 with Mr. Seward, 75 with Conkling, 60
with Grant, 5 with Murphy, and about 50 on Protection.”
“Do you think Mr. Dana used to love General Grant before
they died?”
“—374½.”
“How much did Grant use to care?”
“0,000,000,000.”
I wrote this new dictionary out first for the Galaxy, thirty
years ago, and gracious you ought to have heard the critics “go
for it.” They said I'd been “stealing John Phœnix's thunder.”
one man. If I say “it is very hot” shall some one accuse me
of flaguesism because Dickens said the same thing in Oliver
Twist?
If John Phœnix says it is a 60 hot day, can't I say Tweed is
75 honest?
If you describe a drunken scene, you will undoubtedly get in
some of the situations in Toodles, and because I use numerals
for adjectives, I get into the ground of John Phœnix! Has John
Phœnix got a patent on numerals? I say now that I wrote this
article before I ever saw John Phœnix's article—that with me it
was original, and that on looking at John Phœnix article, I don't
see similarity enough between the two to necessitate the destruction
of either.
| NEW AMERICAN DICTIONARY. Saratoga in 1901 | |