And finally, why do we say….. ?

Curiosity killed the cat – a warning not to be nosey – appears in an Irish newspaper in 1868, although some sources cite 16th works by William Shakespeare and Ben Johnson.

One bad apple – doesn’t take many to ruin something – is certainly in use in the 18th century, but is also found as ‘a rotten apple quickly infects its neighbour’ as early as 1340.

Come rain or shine – to succeed no matter what - is certainly in use in 1905, but there are variations on the theme dating back to the 17th century.

A penny for your thoughts – what are you thinking – is from the 16th century, popularized by John Heywood in 1547 in The Proverbs and Epigrams of John Heywood, but first appearing in 1522 and Sir Thomas More’s Four Last Things.

Add insult to injury – something adding to the punishment, an unnecessarily – derives from the fables of Phaerus in the first century.

Don’t give up your day job – you’re not very good at this – originated in the theatre, where would-be actors tried their hand during evening performances.

Birds of a feather flock together – those with similar likes tend to gather – comes from William Turner’s 1545 satire The Rescuing of Romish Fox.

Comparing apples to oranges – making unfair comparisons – began in 1670 with John Ray’s proverb collection, although the term then was ‘apples and oysters’.

Cold feet – exhibiting a significant change of opinion – appears in English for the first time in 1878 with the translation of the German novel Seedtime and Harvest when a character’s luck at the poker table takes a significant downturn and he leaves the game.

Kill two birds with one stone – get two jobs done with one action – does appear in 1656 in the works of Thomas Hobbes, but almost certainly came from the Greek tale of Daedalus and Icarus.

Etymologies of Homonyms and Homographs

Whilst I am always interested in learning new words, it is the never so much the meaning as the origins which intrigue me. A couple of years ago I looked at words with different usages, despite sounding the same or having identical spellings. Were there two completely different origins and the identical spelling is pure coincidence or has the word simply been used to mean two different things?

Here are another selection and, having done A to S before, now to finish the alphabetical list with a selection of others:

Tear comes as either to rend or to cry and, if I had had to choose, the ripping would have been my choice to come first. As you will already have guessed, the crying came first, that from Proto-Indo-European dakru with the same meaning. The ripping 'tear' does not appear in English util the 14th century, prior to that we used synonyms, while this second use is derived from Proto-Indo-European der meaning 'to split, flay, peel'.

Tender meaning soft, easily injured', can be traced back to Greek teren and Sanskrit tarunah, each with identical meaning and themselves from Proto-Indo-European ten 'to stretch, thin, weak, young'. Tender as in 'to offer' came to English from Middle French tendre and from Latin tendere, both from that same Proto-Indo-European root ten and hear used in the sense 'to stretch'.

Tie is either 'to knot' or 'to be equal'. The knot sense came to English from Old Norse tygill 'string', that from Proto-Indo-European deuk 'to lead'. In the competitive sense it is unknown before 1888, it comes from the other use and in the sense of 'connected'.

Tire is to 'make weary', it is derived from Proto-Germanic teuzon and Proto-Indo-European deu, both meaning 'to lack, be wanting'. I make no apologies for using the American spelling 'tire' instead of 'tyre', indeed until the late 19th century we Brits also used 'tire'. The wheel version came from 'tire' in the sense of 'equipent, dress' and is related to 'attire'. If this seems odd, you simply need to realise the old wooden wheels on the horse-drawn waggons, the metal hoop literally 'tied' the wheel together (as well as protecting it) and was therefore a tie-r.

Trip originally means 'to stumble', and was derived from the early English use meaning 'to tread, trample'. As a journey it is not recorded until 1959, but was certainly used prior to this and also certainly came from the other use. That 'trip' meaning 'journey' is a comparatively recent use is proof the claimed oldest pub name in England, Nottingham's the Trip to Jerusalem, has no basis in fact.

Trunk as in the chest or large box, comes from Old French tronc, the alms box in a church. The elephant's trunk takes its name from the trunk of a tree, itself originating ina word meaning 'to pass through'.

Wave, be it with the hand or a refence to the movement of water, come from Proto-Indo-European uebh 'to move to and fro'. Fascinatingly this has the same origin as 'weave'.

Watch - to keep an eye on - has its roots in religious devotion, when followers would have attempted to stay awake and alert for long periods. This then makes sense of the Proto-Indo-European root of weg 'to be strong'. It was this sense of 'a clock to wake up sleepers' which gave the name to the timepiece.

Well - a source of water and good health. The water source comes from Proto-Indo-European wel 'to turn, revolve' and thus refers to the bubbling of a spring, the source of well water. As in 'hale and hearty', the root is Latin velle 'to wish or will'.

Wind as in 'moving air' has not changed since Proto-Indo-European we 'to blow'. When it comes to the sense of 'to turn, twist', there is the synonym 'wend' and that is the root, wendh 'to twist, entwine'.

Wound is either the the past tense of 'wind' or used to mean 'harm, injure'. In the sense of injury the Old English wund comes from the Proto-Indo-European wen itself meaning 'to bear, wound', while the past tense of 'wind' we saw in the previous entry.

Yard as an imperial measurement comes from the Old English gerd, originally not a measurement of three feet but a straight wooden pole created by pollarding trees. Doing so made the poles grow straight at first, these could be used for building. These were approximately three feet or one yard in length, but it was the Old English word for 'pole' which gave it a name. Old English also gave us the term for that enclosed area at the back of the house, geard used to mean 'enclosure, garden, court, residence'. Although the two words are similar, the pronunciation is the same.

Health and Safety

Monday 19th June 1854 must have started out as a normal working day for John Hudson. On reaching the Shire Hall at Stafford he climbed the scaffolding as usual and was returning to where he had finished work two days earlier. He failed.

Moments later, having slipped through an opening in the scaffolding, he was falling back toward the ground. Such a fall would have been unlikely to have killed him, for this was no great height. Furthermore, his fall was broken by the window sill of the floor below. Hudson bounced off the sill, which threw him away from the building and he landed on the iron railings surrounding the building.

Unfortunately the decorative iron railings were topped by spikes and he landed on one. The spike entered one side of his face through the upper jaw and exited on the other side, just below his eye. Taken to Stafford Infirmary he survived to tell the tale and return to work.

In October 1968, almost fifty years ago, a damp and misty autumnal morning at Yardley Grammar School in Birmingham saw one pupil looking out for his best chum whose late appearance was highly unusual. By stepping up and standing on the low wall, this highly intelligent 12-year-old could peer over the top of the school railings and look along the street for his absent friend. He slipped. A railing impacted his face and he was concerned that there was a rather bad scratch across his most handsome face. He was mistaken.

The spike had actually entered the fleshy part of his face below the jawline and as he attempted to lower himself to the ground, had only succeeded in pushing it further into his face and exiting through the cheek. Luckily he managed to pull himself back up to where he had been standing on the wall and effectively lift his face back off the spike. Thinking now might be a good time to seek medical treatment, he sauntered off to the medical room where a mirror revealed two holes in the righthand side of his face and shortly afterwards an ambulance raced him to hospital. Doctors sewed him back together with, what he then thought, an impressive 39 stitches and then reported back to his parents how the railing had missed the artery by just a fifth of an inch (5mm to we youngsters).