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bast (BAST) - n., fiber from the inner bark of various plants used for cordage or matting.

Said plants include flax, hemp, jute, lime/linden, ramie, nettle, mulberry, and several others. Also sometimes used as a name for the inner bark aka phloem itself. The name goes back to Old English bæst, the inner bark of trees used to make ropes, of Germanic origin, after which the trail gets murky.

And that, actually, was the last word from Busman's Honeymoon, which I didn't have time to post before external obligations (followed by illness) took over. I should be back to regular posting now, though.

---L.

cruet (KROO-it) - n., a small glass bottle for holding condiments such as oil or vinegar at the table; a stand for such containers; a small vessel for holding wine or water for the Eucharist.

Thanks, WikiMedia!

This one's old, going back to the late 13th century, from Anglo-French, from Old French, where it's the diminutive of crue, earthen pot, of Germanic origin (cognate of Middle High German krūche, pitcher).

---L.

navvy (NAV-ee) - (chiefly UK) n., a laborer, esp. one employed in construction or excavation projects.

This is a clipping (dating to the 1820s) of navigator, in the now obsolete meaning of someone who labored building navigating canals, now known as just canals. When railroads started being built, the name for diggers carried over, and the meaning expanded further to any type of (so-called unskilled) construction labor. Fun fact: when the steam-powered excavator was introduced in the 1870s, it was sometimes called a steam navvy.

Admin note: Posting might get spotty over the next week or so due to external obligations.

---L.

gink (GINGK) - (slang) n., a person, a guy; (derog.) a foolish or socially inept man.

Can be complementary, actually, and used affectionately. This is an Americanism dating to around 1905 (with a completely obscure origin), which makes it interesting that it shows up in an exceedingly British 1938 novel. Looking at the entry in Green's, the UK citation from 1922 suggests transmission through the armed forces during the Great War -- but this is hardly conclusive evidence.

---L.

On to words from Busman's Honeymoon:

chiffonier (shif-uh-NEER) - n., any of several pieces of furniture, esp. (a) (UK) a low set of shelves, sometimes protected by a grille door, or (b) (US) a tall, narrow chest of drawers, typically with a mirror attached on top.

The American version:

an American chiffonier

Thanks, WikiMedia!

Also historically, a shallow, tall set of shelves for the display of china, and one can imagine divergent streams of modifications that give us the two most common modern meanings. Also, I've no idea what the word means in Canada, as up there they sometimes follow North American usage and sometimes British. From French, obviously, where the original meaning was rag-picker (from chiffon, rag/scrap), suggesting the original furniture so named was for storing odds and ends.

---L.

insufflator (in-SUHF-lay-tor, in-suhf-LAY-tor) - n., a device that insufflates.

That is, is used to a) blow (something) in or on, esp. b) blow (air or a medicinal substance) into a body cavity or c) blow fingerprint powder onto a surface without disturbing any prints. That last was, obviously, the one being used by Lord Peter. Inslufflate has another meaning, to breathe or blow upon (someone) as a sacrament act, to symbolize the influence of the Holy Spirit, but that's not done with a device. From Latin īnsufflātus, perfect passive participle of īnsufflāre, from in-, in/on + sufflāre, to blow in/on, but which apparently needed a clarifying additional in/on.

---L.

bedel (BEED-l) - n., an administrative officer at universities in several European countries, often in charge of discipline.

In Dutch it's pedel, in German it's Pedell, in Swedish it's pedell, but they're all the same word -- as is beadle, a parish official similar to a sexton. Note that it's usually spelled bedell at Cambridge, because of course Cambridge different. In Medieval Latin it was pedellus/bedellus/bidellus, from Old High German bital/pital, one who invites -- as in invites students out of bounds after hours into his office.

---L.

commination (kom-uh-NAY-shuhn) - n., a denunciation, esp. one threatening divine punishment.

Also, in the Church of England (and for all I know other other churches), an office read on Ash Wednesday proclaiming God's judgments upon sinners. This dates to the early 15th century, from Anglo-French, from Latin Latin comminātiōn-, stem of comminātīo, past participle of comminārī, to threaten, from com-, here an intensifying prefix + minārī, to threaten.

---L.

charabanc (SHAR-uh-bang) - (UK, dated) n., a bus hired by groups for pleasure outings.

Originally a horse-drawn then motorized omnibus with benches and open sides for sightseeing:

a motorized charabanc packed with tourists

Thanks, WikiMedia!

Now generally called a coach, which is also used in the States (can't speak to other locales). The word can still be used in the UK to describe any vehicle that is slow or overcrowded or an overelaborate production, but I don't know how common either of those are, and in any case the sense in Sayers' time was the above. Taken sometime around 1900 from French char-à-bancs, literally coach-with-benches.

---L.

battels (BA-tuhlz) - (UK, some universities) fees charged by a college for board, provisions, and other living expenses.

Where "some" are specifically Oxford and Durham. Almost always used only in the plural. Origin unclear but possibly related to obsolete battle, to feed/fatten (an obsolete adjectival sense of battel is fertile/fruitful).

---L.

tulipant (too-li-PANT) - n., (obs.) a turban; (obs.) a tulip.

This and both of the words it means all come from Turkish tülbent, turban, from Classical Persian dulband/dōlband, turban, from dōl/dawl, revolving, + band, band/tie. Yes, the flower is named after turbans, for a supposed resemblance. For both meanings, tulipant was only used in the 17th century. And no, Wimsey didn't use the word, nor Sayers for that matter -- it was in a chapter epigraph taken from The Anatomy of Melancholy, which is just about the most 17th century prose work to have ever prosed.

---L.

turpentine (tur-puhn-TAIN) - n., a yellowish semifluid oleoresin exuded by the terebinth (Pistacia terebinthus); a thin essential oil (C₁₀H₁₆) distilled from various conifers, especially originally the longleaf pine (Pinus palustris), used as a thinner or solvent for paints and varnishes.

On to words noticed in Gaudy Night. Originally distilled from exuded pine sap, it's now industrially a byproduct of pulping. Or actually, originally originally distilled from the terebinth resin, but in the middle ages they found that pine sap made a better solvent and was obtainable locally, as terebinth (which note is not a conifer but a shrub belonging to the cashew family) is a Mediterranean plant. We've had the word since around 1300 in the Middle English forms terebentyne/terbentyne/turbentine, alteration of Medieval Latin terebentīna, from Latin terebinthīna, from Ancient Greek terebinthínē, terebinth.

---L.

embonpoint (ahn-bawn-PWAN) - n., the condition of being plump, stoutness.

With a very strong connotation of "heavy but not unattractively so" -- so in the same range as voluptuous but applicable to men as well as women. Can also be used adjectivally, but this is not common. Taken in the 1650s from French, same meaning, a compression of en bon point, literally "in good condition."

---L.

pantile (PAN-tail) - n., a roofing tile shaped a) with an elongated S-curve cross-section, laid so the down curve of one tile overlaps the up curve of its neighbor, or b) with a semicircular cross-section, laid alternately curving down and curving up, with each down-curve tile overlapping both up-curved neighbors.

Type a:

Thanks, WikiMedia!

Type b:

Thanks, WikiMedia!

Often terracotta or similar clay-based material. The word was coined in the 1630s from pan, a shallow container + tile.

---L.

All the words for the next couple weeks were encountered in works of Dorothy L. Sayers, specifically Have His Carcass, Gaudy Night, and Busman’s Honeymoon. (I also read Strong Poison to complete the quartet, but none of its vocabulary caught my attention.) In order, of course, so the first few are from HHC, starting with:

nenuphar (NEN-yoo-far) - n., a water-lily, esp. the European white water-lily (Nymphaea alba).

Thanks, WikiMedia!

Or as some older dictionaries put it, esp. the Egyptian lotus. This came up when Lord Peter is (as usual) being frivolous with Harriet Vane:

“There’s something in that. But I’ll have to get a decent frock if there is such a thing in Wilvercombe.”

“Well, get a wine-coloured one, then. I’ve always wanted to see you in wine-colour. It suits people with honey-coloured skin. ‘Blossoms of the honey-sweet and honey-coloured nenuphar’—I always have a quotation for everything—it saves original thinking.”

The quotation in question is from the poem “The Sphinx” by Oscar Wilde. The word in question is from Medieval Latin nenuphar, from Arabic nīlawfar/nīnūfar, from Middle Persian nīlōpal, lotus/water-lily, from Sanskrit nīlotpala, blue lotus, from nīla, blue + utpala, lotus/water-lily -- so it traveled a fair distance there.

---L.

cuneiform (kyoo-NEE-uh-fawrm, KYOO-nee-uh-fawrm) - adj., wedge-shaped. n., an ancient Mesopotamian writing system of logo-syllabic characters composed of wedge-shaped strokes.

Thanks, WikiMedia!

This came up in a dispute over how to pronounce it -- it turns out, we both were right -- and since I'd not run it before, here we are. Indisputable pictographic writing first developed in Uruk and other Sumerian cities around 3300 BCE, and evolved into a logo-syllablic system by c.2900 BCE that became more and more stylized, and by 2600 BCE it was so stylized it could be written quickly by pressing a wedge-shaped stylus into clay tablets (which could be baked and so preserved). This Sumerian system was later adapted to writing Akkadian, Hittite, Old Persian, and other languages. Interestingly, the last dateable cuneiform text was also from Uruk, written in 80 CE. We took the general adjective from Latin in 1677 (from cuneus, wedge) and applied it to the writing system in the 1850s.

---L.

halitus (HAL-i-tuhs) - n., an exhaled breath; vapor, mist.

From Latin, from hālāre, to breathe/exhale and by extension bad breath, and is also (combined with -osis, noun suffix of state/condition) the stem of halitosis, bad breath -- which TIL wasn't an invention of mouthwash companies in the 1950s, but actually dates to the 1870s. Huh!

---L.

brunescent (broo-NEH-sent) - adj., becoming brown in color.

Chiefly used in medical contexts, most commonly brunescent cataracts, which are cataracts old enough they've accumulated residues (mostly proteins) that change the color to amber, brown, or even (in especially severe cases) black. From Medieval Latin brunus, brown + -escens, present participle inchoative, indicating becoming.

---L.

serein (suh-RAN) or (rare/obs.) serene (suh-REEN) - n., a fine rain falling from an apparently clear sky, esp. after sunset.

This was, formerly, the supposed source of dew. The phenomenon is more common in tropical climates than temperate, and possible explanations include the cloud evaporating as it condenses the raindrops and the rain being blown from elsewhere. We got the word in the 1860s from French, from Middle French serain, evening/nightfall, from hypothetical Vulgar Latin form *sērānum, from Latin sērum, a late hour, neuter of sērus, late -- though note that this etymology is complicated by the nearby existence of serene meaning untroubled (from Latin serēnus, clear/cloudless).

---L.

ergotism (UR-guh-tiz-uhm) - n., a condition, characterized by cramps, spasms, and a form of gangrene, caused by eating rye or other cereal that is infected with ergot fungus.

Also called St. Anthony's fire, from the tradition of praying to St. Anthony the Great for relief from several skin conditions, including ergotism and shingles, in part because monks (who often relied on rye as a staple) were often especially susceptible, and St. Anthony was considered the founder of Christian monasticism. The fungus Claviceps purpurea grows in the seed heads of rye and closely related grains, especially after cold winters followed by damp springs, and contains a family of alkaloids called ergolines. The connection between the fungus, the toxins, and the disease was untangled around 1840, though word ergot itself came into English in the 1650s, taking the French name for it, from Old French argot, cock's spur, from the distorted shape of infected rye heads.

---L.