humanities.lit.authors.shakespeare

>>> Bianca Steele wrote:
>>>>
>>>> I know you're way off in Alaska, but didn't you go to college?
.
>> bookb...@yahoo.com wrote:
> >>
> >> Yes, I'm pretty well habituated to cave living. I went to four
> >> colleges and had some kind of an off-campus cave at all of them;
> >> then had many more caves while teaching around the world.
.
> Bianca Steele wrote:
> >
> >What do you teach?
.
bookb...@yahoo.com wrote:
>
> English and library science, retired.

BOOKBURN? Our library scientist's name is actually, BOOKBURN?
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KRAMER: BOOKMAN? The library investigator's name is actually, BOOKMAN?
.
LIBRARIAN: It's TRUE.
.
KRAMER: That's AMAZING. That's like an ice cream man named, Cone.
.
LIBRARIAN: Lt. BOOKMAN has been working here for 25 years
. so I think he's heard all the jokes.
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__ *BOOKMEN*
__ *BOOMKEN* : a sprout, a little tree, a fool, *BUMPKIN* (Dutch)
http://www.greengiantfresh.com/images/sprout_newproducts.gif
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BUMPKIN, n. [The same word as bumkin, which Cotgrave defines thus:
"Bumkin, Fr. chicambault, the luffe-block, a long & thick piece
of wood, whereunto the fore-sayle & sprit-sayle are fastened,
when a ship goes by the winde." Hence, a clumsy man may
easily have been compared to such a block of wood;
cf. OD. *BOOMKEN* a little tree. See {BOOM} a pole.]
An awkward, HEAVY COUNTRY fellow; a clown; a COUNTRY lout.
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. Washington Irving _The Legend of Sleepy Hollow_
.
<female circle of a rural neighborhood; being considered a kind of
idle,
gentlemanlike personage, of vastly superior taste and accomplishments
to the rough COUNTRY SWAiNS, and, indeed, inferior in learning only
to the parson. His appearance, therefore, is apt to occasion some
little stir at the tea-table of a farmhouse, and the addition of
a supernumerary dish of cakes or sweetmeats, or, peradventure,
the parade of a silver teapot. Our man of letters, therefore,
was peculiarly happy in the smiles of all the COUNTRY damsels.
How he would figure among them in the CHURCHYARD, between
services on Sundays; gathering grapes for them from the wild vines
that overran the surrounding trees; reciting for their amusement all
the epitaphs on the tombstones; or sauntering, with a whole
bevy of them, along the banks of the adjacent mill-pond; while
the more bashful *COUNTRY BUMPKINS* hung sheepishly back,
ENVYing his superior elegance and address.>>
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Booth Tarkington (1838-1918). The Magnificent Ambersons. 1918.
.
Lucy was 'too much the village belle,' he complained; and took
a satiric attitude toward his competitors, referring to them
as her 'local SWAiNS and *BUMPKINS*,' sulking for an afternoon
when she reminded him that he, too, was at least 'local.'
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1851 MOBY DICK; OR THE WHALE by Herman Melville
. Chapter vi - THE STREET
.
No town-bred *DANDY WILL* compare with a COUNTRY-bred one - I mean
a downright *BUMPKIN DANDY* - a fellow that, in the dog-days, WILL
mow his two acres in BUCKSKIN GLOVES for fear of TANNING his hands.
Now when a *COUNTRY DANDY* like this takes it into his head to make
*a distinguished reputation* , and joins the great whale-fishery,
you should see the comical things he does upon reaching the seaport.
In bespeaking his sea-outfit, he orders bell-buttons to his
waistcoats;
straps to his canvas trowsers. Ah, poor Hay-Seed! how bitterly
will burst those straps in the first howling gale, when thou art
driven, straps, buttons, and all, down the throat of *THE TEMPEST* .
.
But think not that this famous town has only harpooneers,
cannibals, and *BUMPKINS* to show her visitors. Not at all.
. Still New Bedford is a QUEER place.
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CARPENTER (resuming work).
Well, well, well! Stubb knows him best of all, and Stubb always says
he's QUEER; says nothing but that one sufficient little word QUEER;
he's QUEER, says Stubb; he's QUEER- QUEER, QUEER; and keeps
dinning it into Mr. Starbuck all the time- QUEER- sir- QUEER,
QUEER, VERY QUEER. And HERE's his leg.
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*The Master of Ballantrae: A WINTER'S TALE* (1889)
Stevenson, Robert Louis (1850-1894).
.
Account of All That Passed on the Night on February 27th, 1757.
.
Anyway, he now practised one of his transitions; and so soon as
the door closed behind my lord, and without the smallest change
of voice, shifted from ordinary civil talk into a stream of insult.
.
'My dear Henry, it is yours to play,' he had been saying, and now
continued: 'It is a VERy STRANGE thing how, even in so small a matter
as a game of cards, you display your rusticity. You play, Jacob, like
a bonnet laird, or a sailor in a tavern. The same dulness, the same
petty greed, cette lenteur d'hebete qui me fait rager; it is STRANGE
I should have such a brother. Even Square-toes has a certain vivacity
when his stake is imperilled; but the dreariness of a game with you
I positively lack language to depict.'
.
Mr. Henry continued to look at his cards, as though VERy
maturely considering some play; but his mind was elsewhere.
.
"Dear God, will this nEVER be done?' cries the Master.
'Quel lourdeau! [ *LOURD EAU* : *HEAVY WATER* ]
But why do I trouble you with French expressions, which are lost on
such an ignoramus? A lourdeau, my dear brother, is as we might say a
*BUMPKIN* , a clown, a clodpole: a fellow without grace, lightness,
quickness; any gift of pleasing, any natural brilliancy: such a one as
you shall see, when you desire, by looking in the mirror. I tell you
these things for your good, I assure you; and besides, Square-toes?
(looking at me and stifling a yawn), 'it is one of my diversions in
this VERy dreary spot to toast you and your master at the fire like
chestnuts. I have great pleasure in your case, for I observe the
nickname (rustic as it is) has always the power to make you writhe.
But sometimes I have more trouble with this dear fellow here, who
seems to have gone to sleep upon his cards. Do you not see the
applicability of the epithet I have just explained, dear Henry? Let me
show you. For instance, with all those solid qualities which I delight
to recognise in you, I nEVER knew a woman who did not prefer me'nor, I
think,' he continued, with the most silken deliberation, 'I think-who
did not continue to prefer me.'
.
Mr. Henry laid down his cards. He rose to his feet VERy softly, and
seemed all the while like a person in deep thought. 'You coward!'
he said gently, as if to himself. And then, with neither hurry
nor any particular violence, he struck the Master in the mouth.
..........................
__*LOURD EAU*
__*HEAVY WATER*
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George Sand (1804-1876) The Devil's Pool.
XI. The Belle of the Village
.
He thought the widow's bEAUs, three *BUMPKINS*. They must have been
rich for her to admit of their pretensions. One was over forty, and
fat as Father Leonard; another had lost an eye, and drank like a sot.
The third was a young fellow, and nice-looking; but he kept insisting
on displaying his wit, and would say things so silly that they were
painful to hear. Yet the widow laughed as though she admired all his
foolishness, and made small proof of her good taste thereby. At first
Germain thought her infatuated with him, but soon he perceived that
he himself was especially encouraged, and that they wished him to
make fresh advances. For this reason he felt an increasing
stiffness and severity which he took no pains *TO CONCEAL* .
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Art Neuendorffer