ch,) and that the derivation would have been
perfectly satisfactory to most minds.—Tantrums
would look like a word of popular coinage, and yet
we find a respectable Old High German verb tantaron,
delirare, (Graff, V. 437,) which may perhaps help
us to make out the etymology of dander, in our
vulgar expression of “getting one’s dander
up,” which is equivalent to flying into a passion.—Jog,
in the sense of going, (to jog along,)
has a vulgar look. Richardson derives it from
the same root with the other jog, which means
to shake, ("A. S. sceac-an, to shake,
or shock, or shog.”) Shog
has nothing whatever to do with shaking, unless when
Nym says to Pistol, “Will you shog off?”
he may be said to have shaken him off. When the
Tinker in Beaumont and Fletcher’s “Coxcomb”
says, “Come, prithee, let’s shog
off,” what possible allusion to shaking is there,
except, perhaps, to “shaking stumps”?
The first jog and shog are identical
in meaning and derivation, and may be traced, by whosoever
chooses, to the Gothic tiuhan, (Germ, ziehen,)
and are therefore near of kin to our tug. Togs
and toggery belong here also. (The connecting
link may be seen in the preterite form zog.)
The other jog probably comes to us immediately
from the French choquer; and its frequentative
joggle answers to the German schutkeln,
It. cioccolare. Whether they are all remotely
from the same radical is another question. We
only cited it as a monosyllabic word, having the air
of being formed by the imitative process, while its
original tiuhan makes quite another impression.—Had
the word ramose been a word of English slang-origin,
(and it might easily have been imported, like so many
more foreign phrases, by sailors,) we have as little
doubt that a derivation of it from the Spanish vamos
would have failed to convince the majority of etymologists.
This word is a good example of the way in which the
people (and it is always the people, never the scholars,
who succeed in adding to the spoken language) proceed
in naturalizing a foreign term. The accent has
gone over to the last syllable, in accordance with
English usage in verbs of two syllables; and though
the sharp sound of the s has been thus far retained,
it is doubtful how long it will maintain itself against
a fancied analogy with the grave sound of the same
letter in such words as inclose and suppose.—We
should incline to think the slang verb to mosey
a mere variety of form, and that its derivation from
a certain absconding Mr. Moses (who broke the law
of his great namesake through a blind admiration of
his example in spoiling the Egyptians) was only a new
instance of that tendency to mythologize which is as
strong as ever among the uneducated. Post, ergo
propter, is good people’s-logic; and if
an antecedent be wanting, it will not be long before
one is invented.