Homonyms, Etymologically Speaking: G

Many words have two meanings, sometimes more, which are often very different. Such words have identical spelling and pronunciation, they are known as homonyms. Here I continue an A to Z list of such words and look at how that word came to have two different meanings.

G is for gander, most often the male goose. It is derived from the Proto-Indo-European ghans which not only meant 'goose' but is derived from its call. There is some thought that perhaps even further back in time many waterbirds were known by this name, as others have similar names, in particular the Lithuanian word for the stork gandras.

During the 19th century, the term 'gander' was also used to refer to an all-male gathering, just as a 'stag' is used today. A third usage, still in use today, is as a verb where 'gander' means a look and particularly a good long look. The earliest record of this use comes from a record of 1886, when the idea of craning one's neck (goose-like) to get a good look. Even then, there was an earlier use, when the word meant to 'wander foolishly'. There is also a place named Gander, it's a famous place for flying enthusiasts as it is in Newfoundland and provided a last stop for trans-Atlantic flights in the early days, hence many of the streets are named after famous aviators. Such was its strategic importance Gander Airport, and thus the town, gave its name to a crater on the Moon. Gander took its name from Gander Bay, itself getting its name from the lake and river of the same name which, it will come as no surprise, got their names from the male geese which were often found there.

Homonyms, Etymologically Speaking: F

Many words have two meanings, sometimes more, which are often very different. Such words have identical spelling and pronunciation, they are known as homonyms. Here I continue an A to Z list of such words and look at how that word came to have two different meanings.

F is for file, and one my favourite words when it comes to its usage over the years. Likely our first thought turns to the tool used to smooth or abrade, this comes from the Proto-Germanic fihalo 'a cutting tool', and traceable to Proto-Indo-European peig 'to cut, mark by incision'. The second use, that heard so often in offices, refers to a place where documents are stored - even in the digital age the terminology has not changed - and has been derived from the first sense. How? Because the original filing systems were not drawers, but a length of wire produced by a cutting-like process. The papers would be suspended from the wire or file until required. We still remember those days because we never spoke of the document being in the drawer as being 'in file' but always 'on file'. This is why etymology and the development of language is fascinating.

Homonyms, Etymologically Speaking: E

Many words have two meanings, sometimes more, which are often very different. Such words have identical spelling and pronunciation, they are known as homonyms. Here I continue an A to Z list of such words and look at how that word came to have two different meanings.

E is for even, used to mean 'equal' and also as a comparison such as in the phrase 'even when'. The etymological trail for the former begins with Old English efen, similar forms seen across the range of Germanic languages suggest earlier forms will have seen little change but unfortunately no trace of such has ever been found. The second sense, to liken, compare, is unrecorded before the 13th century and thus will have come from the adjective.

There was once a third use, from Old English aefen 'at the end of the day'. This is not related to the other words but is akin to 'eve' and 'evening'. It also reminds us that while today the day ends at midnight, once the day ended when the sun went down - which makes far more sense. Expressions featuring 'even' include: even break first appears in print in 1907; even-steven, first seen in 1866; to get even with is from 1833; and even-tempered from 1712. There are also a couple of expressions which have fallen out of use: even-old 'of the same age'; and even-sucker meaning 'foster-brother'.

Homonyms, Etymologically Speaking: D

Many words have two meanings, sometimes more, which are often very different. Such words have identical spelling and pronunciation, they are known as homonyms. Here I continue an A to Z list of such words and look at how that word came to have two different meanings.

D is for date, not only a part of the calendar but also a fruit. Taking the calendar term first, it came to English from French date with the modern meaning, and no surprise to find this coming from Latin data meaning 'to give', and ultimately from Proto-Indo-European do also 'to give'. Meanwhile the fruit can be traced to Old French date, Old Provencal datil, Latin dactylus, Greek daktylos, all of which are easy to recognise as being related to the words for the hand. Whether this refers to the resemblance of the fruit to fingers/thumbs, or whether the leaf of the date palm resembles the palm of the hand is still being argued.

Homonyms, Etymologically Speaking: C

Many words have two meanings, sometimes more, which are often very different. Such words have identical spelling and pronunciation, they are known as homonyms. Here I continue an A to Z list of such words and look at how that word came to have two different meanings.

C is for cross, as in 'angry' and the name of the best-known Christian image. The latter came first, derived from 'across' in the sense of 'going across the grain' or 'across the main flow' or simply 'intersecting'. This can be traced back, and through any number of languages, back to Latin crux with the same meaning. Having learned the early meanings, it is easy to see why someone not conforming or agreeing with another would be seen as 'cross' in that sense and, at least etymologically speaking, both words have a common root.

Homonyms, Etymologically Speaking: B

Many words have two meanings, sometimes more, which are often very different. Such words have identical spelling and pronunciation, they are known as homonyms. Here I continue an A to Z list of such words and look at how that word came to have two different meanings.

B is for band and also for bat. Taking 'band' first, clearly the earliest usage would have been as in the sense 'a flat strip, that which binds'. This word is seen in Old English bend, Old Scandinavian band, and Old French bande, and all with identical meanings. Clearly this monosyllabic word has been around a long time, and we can trace it back to the root word bhendh, meaning 'to bind' in Proto-Indo-European.

The second use of 'band' is as in the sense 'an organised group', particularly used when speaking of an armed group of men. It is not difficult to see how the 'binding' of a flat strip has been transferred to the 'binding together' of a group of individuals. This is also why a group of musicians are known as a 'band', and has been since at least 1660.

An examination of 'bat' looks at both the flying mammal and that used to hit a ball (or similar) in sporting contests. Taking the latter first, Old English batt was used to refer to a cudgel, and was a loan word from Irish bat and Gaelic bata, both having identical meanings. These come from the Proto-Indo-European bhat 'to strike'. Note the Middle English use referred to a 'lump, piece, chunk', the term surviving in terms such as 'brickbat'.

When it comes to the mammal, the creature was known in Middle English as bakke, this related to Old Swedish natbakka 'night bat', and Old Norse ledrblaka which might be used to mean 'bat' but literally translates as 'leather flapper'. This is also seen in the Proto-Indo-European bhlag 'to strike', this also the origin of words such as 'flagellate'. Old English hreremus was also used to refer to a bat, this from hreran 'to shake'.

Homonyms, Etymologically Speaking: A

Many words have two meanings, sometimes more, which are often very different. Such words have identical spelling and pronunciation, they are known as homonyms. Here I start a list of words and look at how that word came to have two different meanings - just to make life easier for me I will start at 'A' and go through alphabetically.

A is for address. The verb came first, an English loan-word from France where Old French adrecier was used to mean 'straight, to the point, direct' and from Latin addirectiare 'make straight'. In English the word's oldest sense is seen when we 'address' a golf ball. Later used as where a person lives from around 1450; to speak to a person from around 1500; power of directing one's actions from around 1590.

Parts of Speech

As a schoolboy I struggled to remember the names of parts of speech and which was what and why. After I left school and when I started writing I found it a simple task. I recently discussed this with someone and, as I did so, began wondering if an etymologist's view would have helped. Let's see:

Verb, always said to be a 'doing word', came to English from France where the word verbe was used in the sense of 'word' and also 'word of God'. This is derived from the Proto-Indo-European were meaning 'to speak', which has also given us Avestan urvata 'command'; Sanskrit vrata 'command, vow'; Greek rhetor 'public speaker'; Hittite weriga 'call, summon'; Lithuanian vardas 'name'; and both the Gothic and English words for 'word'.

Noun is another from French, where nom has long meant 'name'. Interestingly, Old English name was used to mean 'name'. All can be traced back to Latin nomen and Proto-Indo-European no-men both meaning 'name'.

Adjective, as I recall it said to be the 'describing word', it also comes from French, where adjectif came from Latin adjectivum, the latter meaning 'added' - in this sense added to the noun. Note from around 1851 'adjective' was used as a euphemism for the mild oath 'bloody'.

Preposition is from the Latin praepositionem 'a putting before, a prefixing', and a fairly accurate description of how a preposition is used.

Conjunction is from French, where conjonction not only meant 'union, joining' but was also used in the sense of 'sexual intercourse', as was the Latin root of coniunctionem.

Pronoun has the same etymology as 'noun' but with the addition of the prefix 'pro' to mean 'in place of'.

Adverb also shares an etymology, this time with 'verb', with the prefix 'ad' meaning 'to'.

Animal Names from Yesteryear

As a boy I recall those traditional names given to animals: badgers were always known as 'Brock'; horses were Dobbin; and Reynard was the name for all foxes (be they dog or vixen). Regular visitors will already have guessed I thought it time that the etymologist (or slightly older boy, if you prefer) should investigate.

Brock the badger is the ideal start, at least for the etymologist, for the animal has been known as a badger since around 1520. Prior to that the largest carnivore in the British Isles was known as a brocc, this an Old English loan word from the languages of the Celtic peoples - Old Irish brocc and Welsh broch two examples. Interesting to note that Middle English brocc was used to mean 'a low, dirty fellow', most often preceded by 'stinking'. Anyone who has ever got close enough to a badger will know they do fit this description, at least aromatically speaking.

Reynard the fox was the title of a series of stories, but the trail goes back much earlier than that. It came to English from Old French in the late 13th or early 14th centuries, the French word came from the Old High German personal name Reginard, itself related to the Latin name Raginohardus - the latter meaning 'strong in counsel' and an early example of the wisdom and cunning associated with this highly successful mammal. The popularity of the stories in France has led to reynard being used as the word for 'fox' in France, replacing the earlier goupil, itself derived from the Latin vulpecula.

Neddy the donkey is only seen in Britain, at least for the most part. In Australia racehorses are known as 'neddy'. Any etymological explanation is lost, but it seems likely to be related to Neddy (or Ned) being used as a pet form of Edward.

Buttercup the cow is probably the obvious answer, butter being associated with dairy and cows. Buttercups were once known by two other names - either a goldcup or a butterflower, thus the modern name borrows a bit of each (and may have been a cupflower). The irony being that certain buttercups contain a chemical called Protoanemonin which is toxic to cattle,

Dobbin the horse was a common name for a working horse, especially a farm horse, and is given as such in Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice, although certainly used earlier. It seems to be a later version of Dob, a pet form of Robin or Robert. Note 'Dobbie', the name of the elf in Harry Potter, was used to mean 'household sprite' from the late 18th century, while in Sussex it had also been used earlier to describe a 'silly old man'.

Fido the dog comes from a Latin word which meant 'to trust or confide in' and most often used to state 'I am faithful', which is what dogs are deemed to be. Personally I think they are only following their natural instincts and if you were to fuss and pet me and feed me whenever I demand, I'd be pretty faithful, too - just don't throw the ball and expect me to retrieve it.

Tiddles the cat is derived from the Old English word tid meaning 'weak, tender'. Indeed, the first syllable of 'tender' shares that origin, while it is still used in English in the word 'tidbit' - yes, I know the English tend to use 'titbit' but the Americans, and quite correctly, have not corrupted it and still say 'tidbit'.

Quackers the duck was the only modern one I could find, and there's no need to explain that, but research revealed that ducks, and indeed many waterfowl, have been known as Arsefoot for more than four centuries. Of course, this refers to their legs being set back on the body (it helps with swimming).

Bobby-Dazzler - now I know you are going to think this is a term used to describe someone of glitzy appearance, but it began as a reference to a butterfly. Indeed, 'bobby' was also used to describe a plant which was covered in invertebrates - buddleia and butterflies, nettles and caterpillars, etc.

Moths were once known as candleflies - no explanation needed there.

Dumbledore - another J K Rowling loan, but it was an Old English word for any buzzing or humming insect.

An Etymology of Australia's Fauna

Some years ago I heard the story of how Captain James Cook landed in Botany Bay. As another captain, one James T. Kirk, would do when visiting planets around the Alpha Quadrant years later, Cook was able to make himself understood anywhere in the world by speaking English. (You can almost hear him speaking loudly and slowly in his Yorkshire accent saying "Do you understand?") The idea that the indigenous population of Australia, isolated from the rest of the world for perhaps 30,000 years, understood what Cook and his crew were saying seems fanciful, and yet a story I heard some years ago made me wonder whether the punchline was true.

Cook is chatting away to the locals when he spots an animal bounding along in the distance. "What's that?" he asks. The locals look at one another, shrug and tell him "kangaroo", and he makes a note in his diary "Today I saw a kangaroo." Unfortunately the message from the locals was lost in translation for, instead of them telling him what the creature was called, they had merely said "kan ga roo" or 'I don't know." This etymologist, having heard/told the story again recently, decided to see if this story has any basis in fact and the result produced this post, covering not just the kangaroo but many of the unusually-named fauna of the Australian continent.

Koala: is a European reproduction of the indigenous name, which may be koola, kulla or kula, depending upon the source consulted. This comes from the Dharug word gula or gulamany which suggest 'no drink'. Famously the koala gets all its moisture from the eucalyptus leaves on which it feeds and never needs to drink. At least that is the theory, in recent years koalas have been increasingly reported seeing taking a drink of water. Various things have been blamed, such as heatwaves, deforestation, and bushfires.

Platypus: derived from the Greek, the name was given by Europeans and translates literally as 'flat-footed', which seems odd considering few would see this creature's feet as its defining feature. Note the American idea of the plural being platypi (or is it platypii?), does not work as that would need to be a Latin root. Strictly the British idea of platypusses is accepted, but if we stick with the Greek beginnings this would give the plural as platypodes.

Thylacine: is a modern name from the Greek and correctly is Thylacine Cynocephalus 'the dog headed pouched one'.

Echidna: an interesting name which is most often said to come from the Greek ekhidna meaning 'snake, viper' and said to come from Proto-Indo-European angwhi 'snake, eel'. Whilst the forms may appear very close, to describe an egg-laying mammal (monotreme) with spines akin to a hedgehog as an ophidian seems odd. There have been suggestions that the tongue, used to collect ants and termites, is the 'snake', but this would not be overly easy to recognise from a distance. Another possibility is the Greek ekhinos 'sea urchin;' which is spiny like the hedgehog which it originally was used to describe and was also used to describe 'sharp points'. There is a third idea, for the serpent-nymph of Greek mythology named Echidna was described as 'a beautiful woman in the upper part of the body, but instead of legs and feet she had, from the waist downward, the form of a serpent'. Just how this would be likened to the Australian marsupial, is unclear. Perhaps just throw them all in the hat and pick one.

Quoll: is from an indigenous language, recorded as je-quoll by Joseph Banks, he who accompanied Captain James Cook on his voyage, where it was also recorded as a dhigul, both from the Guugu Yimidhirr language again.

Tasmanian devil: is simple enough, for it is named from the island of Tasmania, itself named after Abel Tasman, the Dutch explorer.

Sugar glider: is simple enough for, as many will know, it is a bit like a flying squirrel in that it glides, and gets it 'sweet' name because it has a predilection for sugary foods.

Wombat: is the European version of the indigenous names of womback or wombar, from the language of the indigenous Darug people, now nearly extinct. Note the collective name for the wombat is a wsidom, and even Sir David Attenborough said the wombat is not known for its intelligence.

Possum: is a shortened form of opossum, itself the Algonquian opassum or 'white dog'.

Dingo: is from the Dharruk language (spoken in the region of Sydney) and means 'tame dog', which is a little odd as the creatures are also known by the Dharruk term warrigal or 'wild dog'.

Dugong: comes from a Visayan word dugung and from Proto-Malayo-Polynesian duyun, all of which do NOT mean, as is so often said, 'the lady of the sea' another description of a mermaid (which also doesn't exist).

Emu: is from the Portuguese ema meaning 'crane, ostrich', and of unknown origins.

Cassowary: is another indigenous name, the Malay kasuari.

Galah: is a parrot named from the Yuwaalaraay language.

Budgerigar: has two possible etymologies: either the Yuwaalaraay word gijrragaa; or the Australian slang boojery 'good' amd gar 'cockatoo'.

Kookaburra: is from the Wiradjuri word guuguubarra which is simply imitative of its call.

Taipan: is derived from the Wik-Mungkan name for an ancestral creator also known as the Rainbow Serpent.

Goanna: is from 'iguana', itself from the Arawakan name for this lizard.

Barramundi: is an indigenous word meaning 'large-scaled river fish'.

Wobbegong: is another name from an indigenous language, this shark resembling a carpet (hence it's a carpet shark) and is a name meaning 'shaggy beard'.

Kangaroo: and finally a look at the creature which started all this. If you thought the "I don't know" story was bad enough, the actual origins are even more confusing. The name comes from the indigenous language known as Guugu Yimidhirr (no, I don't know how to pronounce it either), where gaNurru is said to mean 'large black kangaroo'. Thus if 'kangaroo' means 'large black kangaroo', then 'large black kangaroo' means 'large black kangaroo large black kangaroo' and so on and so forth. Yes, it is confusing and I certainly prefer "I don't know".

The Oddingley Murders

On 24th June 1806, George Parker, Rector of Oddingley, was found in the village of Oddingley lying in a field and dying from a gunshot wound to the abdomen. He was discovered after a shot and the cry of "Murder, Murder!" had been heard by two men travelling along a nearby lane. They saw someone running away and, from their description, Richard Heming, a local odd-job man, was wanted. He could not be found and rumours abounded he had left for America. In 1830 a skeleton was found in a barn near to where George Parker had been shot. From his clothes he was identified as Richard Heming. Both men were deemed to have died in 1806, and neither had yet resulted in a conviction.

The barn was owned by one Thomas Clewes. He was promptly arrested and, while in gaol, he confessed to having witnessed the murder of Heming, and even named the killers. Three local farmers, all substantial landowners, were in dispute with Parker about the tithes they were required to pay. They paid £50 to Heming to murder the rector, and then bludgeoned their own man to death. Clewes, John Barnett, and George Banks were arrested and charged, and the case made national headlines. (The third farmer had since died.) Everyone expected a triple hanging - and, in 1830, who did not enjoy a good hanging (well EastEnders had yet to reach the public and yes, I know it seems like it's been around that long).

First the law did not allow for the charge of murdering Parker to be levelled at any of them. They may have been accessories, but the law in 1806 (when the murder took place) did not allow them to be charged. It had been changed by 1830, but the law was not changed to work retroactively. Yet they could have been charged with Parker's murder, if Heming had been charged, which he could not be as he was already dead. But, it was these three who had had a hand in killing the killer, so where is the justice here?

Further complications meant Clewes was only charged with aiding and abetting the murder of Heming. His two surviving accomplices, Barnett and Banks, were then charged as his accomplices. Now it gets even more frustrating, for there was little evidence remaining, any witnesses called to give evidence were uncertain when giving details and many contradicted statements they had made earlier. Well it was 24 years afterwards and the ringleader, Captain Evans, and the third man, James Taylor, were deceased. To add further confusion, Clewes counsel argued that his confession could not be used to implicate others, as he had had no foreknowledge of, nor participated in, the murder of Heming. All three, despite clearly being guilty, were set free and lived out thier lives in relative peace. The locals, who were rather relieved that nobody was held to account for two murders (showing how unpopular the tithes were), broke into the church and rang the bells in celebration (much to the indignation of the press).

For a clergyman to be murdered was rare in Georgian England, but for his death to result from a conspiracy between a magistrate and yeomen farmers was unique. Although a clash of strong personalities contributed at Oddingley, the dysfunctional tithe system was the root of the conflict. Parker's income as rector came from his 'tithe', his right to a one-tenth share in everything the parish produced. At Oddingley as in most parishes farmers had switched to paying money annually rather than giving actual produce, but by 1800 there was often a mismatch between whatever long-agreed sum they gave as tithe, and the real value of a tenth of their crops. Parker's annual income from his tithes was £135, then a respectable amount; but one which had not altered for decades, while years of war had caused rampant inflation. After Parker tried to renegotiate his payment and the farmers refused, for several years he collected his tithes in kind. This procedure caused smouldering resentment and sometimes violence: when it did, Parker simply took the recalcitrant farmer to court. His stubborn refusal to be intimidated exasperated them and his success in gathering a tenth of their produce cost them money. After five years of attrition they were ready to yield the increase he had asked - but at this point Parker demanded a further sum of £150 compensation for costs incurred in collecting his tithes. With the resentful farmers under the sway of Captain Evans, an ex-military man already familiar with the process of delegating violence, a fairly commonplace quarrel over tithes ended in double murder.

Injustice?

On Wednesday 20th January inquest before J T Bagley, coroner, on the body of a female infant found in the privy of the Bell Inn, Derby. Both medical men interviewed, Mr Harwood and Mr Jones, were of the opinion the child had been alive when deposited there, certainly they thought it had been born alive. But witnesses said the infant had been stillborn and the jury were in agreement that the infant had been put there to conceal the birth. Jane Frearson, the mother, had lived at the Bell Inn for five months working as a kitchen maid; previously with a highly respectable family in Sheffield, and before going to Mrs Wightman’s was living with parents at Normanton. She was held awaiting trial at the next borough sessions – where she was acquitted through a lack of evidence to show the child had been born alive.

Criminal?

Esther Dyson was in court in York on 31st March 1831 for cutting off her child's head and throwing the body behind a dam to conceal the evidence. She had been deaf and dumb since birth and it was claimed she was insane. At the trial the judge asked the jury to consider one point, was her apparent inability to comprehend what was happening real or not? Was this a good act, or was this God's will? They decided it was the latter and she was acquitted, Yet later a Mrs Ann Briggs came forward and claimed she was more than capable of understanding, she had known her for eight or nine years, and should not have been acquitted. Esther was sent to West Riding Lunatic Asylum in Wakefield where she is reported to have performed tasks associated with a housemaid without trouble until her death on 2nd March 1869 at the age of 62.

Synonym Etymologies Z

Continuing the look at synonyms through the eyes of the etymologist, this time it is the letter Z and zoo. Not seen as an abbreviation before 1847, this an abbreviation of the London Zoological Society founded in Regents Park nineteen years earlier, the word came to English through the Latin zoologia and Greek zoion 'animal', both from Proto-Indo-European gwei 'to live'. As there are no actual synonyms, no surprise for such a late word, I will content myself with looking at similar terms.

Menagerie came from the French where it described 'housing for domestic animals', and itself derived from menage 'household' and sharing a root with the Latin 'mansion'.

Vivarium today refers to 'a glass bowl for studying living creatures', but the Latin vivarium referred to 'an enclosure for live game' and even 'park, warren, fish pond'. Again we can trace this back to Proto-Indo-European gwie 'to live'.

Aquarium is from Latin aquarius 'pertaining to water', the first element from Proto-Indo-European akwa 'water'.

Aviary is linked to the previous two words, with Latin aviarium 'place where birds are kept' derived from Proto-Indo-European awi 'bird'.

Terrarium is first seen in 1877, and derived from Latin terra 'land' and traceable back to Proto-Indo-European ters 'dry'.

Synonym Etymologies Y

Continuing the look at synonyms through the eyes of the etymologist, this time it is the letter Y and young. This came to English through the Germanic group of languages, Proto-Germanic junga coming from Proto-Indo-European yuwn-ko 'vital force, youthful vigor'. The noun, used to refer to offspring, is first recorded in the 15th century.

Youth is, unsurprisingly, from the same root as 'young'.

Juvenile is from the Latin iuvenilis and iuvenis the latter meaning 'young man'. Note for the Romans a juvenile came after adolescence, thus anything from 21 up to as old as 40.

Junior, as with young, saw the noun, first recorded in 1520, coming from the adjective. Again this is of Latin derivation, where iunior meant 'younger'. Used to mean the younger generation from 1620s, and of lesser standing from 1766, the Proto-Indo-European root is the same as for 'young'.

Adolescent, unlike 'junior' and 'young', had the adjective taken from the noun. Unchanged since coming to English from French, with the same meaning and spelling, and Latin adolescentem meaning 'young man or woman', we can trace it back further to the Proto-Indo-European al 'to grow, nourish'.

Teenage is unrecorded before 1911 when it is first seen in records of Sunday School classes. The 'age' suffix is obvious and it follows a syllable which comes from 'ten'.

Immature is the opposite of mature and shares an origin with it. As an adjective it comes from the verb, itself used for plantlife for most of recorded history. It is traceable back to Proto-Indo-European meh-tu 'ripeness'.

Child comes from Proto-Germanic kiltham, which has given words in many Germanic languages with such meanins as 'womb', 'pregnant', 'litter', 'of gentle birth', and even simply 'girl child'. It has so far proven impossible to trace it back further than Proto-Germanic.

Baby is a diminutive of 'babe', the earlier form of the word. This came from the 13th century word baban, itself imitative of baby talk. Note, the term might mean infant, but related words in other languages have the rather different meaning or 'old woman', such as in the Russian babushka and baba 'peasant woman'.

Progeny came to English in the 14th century from the French progenie. We can trace this back to Proto-Indo-European pro 'forth' and gignere 'produce, beget' and related to gene 'birth, beget'.

Heir came to English from Old French oir and Latin heredem, all from the same root as 'heredity' in the Proto-Indo-European ghe 'to be empty, left behind' and the reason we see words such as the Greek khera 'widow'.

Descendants shares an etymology with 'descend' and the Proto-Indo-European root skand 'jump'.

Successors shares an etymology with 'succeed' in the Proto-Indo-European ked 'to go, yield'.

Kids was not used for human children until the later 16th century, prior to that simply referring to the young of goats. As the latter we can trace the etymology to Proto-Germanic kidjom with the same meaning. Unfortunately, the trail ends there.

Synonym Etymologies X

Continuing the look at synonyms through the eyes of the etymologist, this time it is the letter X and xanth. For once I am unable to offer synonyms, hence I chose 'xanth' as it has several uses. Best known would be as a colour, where it comes from the Greek xanthos 'yellow'.

Dalla xantha is a butterfly native to Colombia.

Xantha is also a girl's name, one most often given to those with blonde hair.

Caladenia xantha is native to Western Australia and has the common name primrose spider orchid.

Xantha is the home planet of Kurrgo, a character in the Marvel Comics series featuring the Fantastic Four.

Falsilunatia xantha is a species of predatory sea snail.

Xantha was a Greek and Bulgarian diesel ship designed to carry livestock, but has subsequently been renamed Solyst and later Sea Maid.

Synonym Etymologies W

Continuing the look at synonyms through the eyes of the etymologist, this time it is the letter W and walk. With its many oddities, the English language is a fascinating subject. But even for English 'walk' has a very odd etymology. Only since around 1200 has it been used in its modern sense, prior to that it was unknown. It is derived from the amalgamation of two Old English words: wealcan 'to toss, move about' and wealcian 'to roll up, curl'. Both come from the Proto-Germanic welk 'to drag' and Proto-Indo-European wel 'to turn, revolve'. While these early meanings seem to have no link to 'walking', they do suggest movement.

Pace comes from the Old French pas, with the same meaning, as does its root, the Latin passus. Tracing it back further, we find an earlier Latin root of pandere 'to stretch (specifically the leg), to spread out' and Proto-Indo-European pete 'to spread'.

Saunter is first seen in the late 15th century as santren, but with a rather different meaning of 'to muse, be in reverie'. The walking sense is first recorded around 1660, and there are some who think the two words are unrelated. Sadly, nothing is known earlier than these dates for either sense.

Tread came to English along the Germanic language line, with Old English tredan, Proto-Germanic tred, and other very similar forms in related languages. The Proto-Indo-European root is der 'to run, walk, step'. Note the first record of anyone treading water dates from 1764, although clearly the same technique had been used for millennia.

Step is another of Germanic origins, beginning with Old English steppan, through Old Frisian stapa, to Proto-Indo-European stebh. All of these mean 'step', apart from the earliest Proto-Indo-European where the sense is more 'post, stem, to support', and thus the original sense referred more to the legs taking the step, rather than the distance travelled.

Stride is seen in Old English stridan, which was used more in the sense of 'astride' today. Tracing it through other Germanic languages we see the term is most often used as the word 'strive' is today in English.

Stroll came to English from the German strollen 'to stroll about, loaf'. It is related to Strolch 'vagabond, vagrant, fortuneteller' and Italian astrologo 'astrologer', thus likely seen as an action lacking any true purpose or goal.

Amble came to English from Old French ambler 'at a steady pace' and most often referred to a horse or deer. This in turn came from Latin ambulare 'to walk about' and ultimately from Proto-Indo-European ambhi 'around'.

Plod is thought to be imitative of the sound of walking, although its etymology is unknown and only came into being around 1560.

Hike may have been seen in 1809, but did not come into general use until the 20th century. Its etymology is a mystery.

Trudge is unknown before the 1540s, and the etymology unknown.

Wander is a Germanic word which has never changed in meaning, until we come to Proto-Indo-European wendh meaning to 'wind, weave, turn' and clearly the modern verb 'to wend'.

Ramble is simply a derivative of 'roam', the vowel canges typical of the language group.

Tramp is related to 'stamp', and ultimately shares a root with 'tread' above.

Trek can be traced back to Old High German trechan 'to draw'. If this seems strange, it will be explained when we realise that between those the word was used to mean 'to travel or migrate by wagon' as recently as 1850 and as a noun the previous year referring to 'the stage of a journey by ox wagon'.

March came to English from Old French marcher 'to stride, walk, march', and probably from Gallo-Roman marcare 'hammering', and thus related to 'tramping the feet'.