In Other Words —

Not long ago I came across a copy of Johnson’s Dictionary at a flea market. While rummaging through the dusty tome, I found some wonderful words that are no longer in use. I would love to bring them back to life. For example:

AFTERWISE, Wise too late.
(What a wonderful word to describe the whole process of bringing up children. Why had it fallen into disuse?)

DISHCLOUT, the cloth with which one washed dishes long ago, (or broke them).

FLAPDRAGON, a game in which the players catch raisins out of burning brandy. (Sounds like fun to me!)

FLESHQUAKE, a tremor of the body. (How much more exciting than the feeble shivers and shudders we have today.)

FLITTERMOUSE, the bat. (What a beautiful name for such an unsavory critter, eh, Bob?)

GRUMLY, sullenly, morosely. (the way this heat wave makes me feel!)

GUTTLE, to feed luxuriously, gourmetize, a low word. (To pig out, is the modern substitue.)

MOIL, to labor in the mire.

RANTIPOLE, to run about wildly (like my two-year-old grandson.)

STAR-PROOF, impervious to starlight. (Most of the proofs we have today are good proofs--fire-proof, water-proof, moth-proof. But “star-proof”! What an awful thing to be. As I sat pondering this at the window, the first star of evening appeared. I gazed at it a little longer than usual.

Robin Hathaway

The Thrill of the Thrift Shop

I’m not sure when I got my taste for thrift shops. I think it was when I was first married, we had no money and every penny counted (not that they don’t count now!). I stumbled into a Salvation Army store that was near our house and it was like stepping into wonderland. Acres of used clothes for a song. I came home with a new wardrobe for under $10.00, and urged my husband to come with me next time. To his amazement some gentleman, just his size, had donated a whole collection of winter suits (Harris Tweed, no less), overcoats, and hand-knit sweaters. This same man came every year, twice a year, with equally elegant offerings, keeping Bob outfitted for life.

When our children arrived, I found another shop called “House of Bargains,” that kept our two girls clothed until they were teenagers and began to rebel. I must admit they did look a bit dowdy in some of the pictures we have of them as tots. The dresses are a bit long, the sweaters a trifle gaudy. But I know they never suffered from the cold.

But the real thrill of the thrift shop is the thrill of the hunt. The possibility that you will find some treasure that everyone else has overlooked. Antique shops are no fun because everything has been evaluated and priced already. There are no surprises, and seldom any bargains. But at thrift shops you never can tell. A few of my finds were – a set of eight cut glass wine glasses, a spinning wheel that actually worked, and some lovely antique jewelry. But my greatest windfall I landed just a few months ago. I wasn’t planning on shopping – actually I was in a rush – but I couldn’t pass my favorite thrift store on 3rd Ave. On an impulse, I went in. I swear this item had called to me. There it was, standing square in the front of the shop with a big sign hanging from it: $20. A wooden lectern bearing a massive Webster’s Dictionary that I’m sure had never been opened.

“Does the dictionary come with the stand?” I asked excitedly.

The salesman nodded and smiled.

I plunked down a twenty-dollar bill and said my husband would pick it up in his car tomorrow.
This handsome twosome now decorates our living room, and is a conversation piece as well as a very useful item. Despite the so-called convenience of online dictionaries and Kindle touch-type, instant definitions, there’s nothing like browsing through an enormous tome, pausing here and there at an intriguing, unknown word or a drawing of a sailing ship with all its masts and rigging labeled.

Sort of like wandering through a thrift shop and pausing before a strange cooking utensil. “Now what could that be for?” or a lace antimacassar like my grandmother used to have. Price? $1.50. I feel my dictionary on its lectern is a monument to a past that wasn’t all hat bad. And to think, I found it in a thrift shop!

Robin Hathaway