American Language Supplement 2

by H. L. Mencken

  Any elephant, male or female, is a bull, a zebra is a convict, a hippopotamus is a hip, a leopard is a spot and a tiger is a stripe, but any feline is a cat. All tents save the cook-house and the clown-alley are tops, and all concessions are joints – the juice-joint (refreshment-stand), mug-joint (photograph-gallery), grab-joint (eating-stand), mitt-joint (fortune-teller’s tent), sinker-joint (doughnut-stand), grease-joint (hamburger-stand), and so on. All animal cages are dens, the show ground is the lot, a side-show is an annex or kid-show, the programme is the Bible, the dressing tent is the pad-room, the clowns’ quarters are clown-alley, the latrine is a donniker, the space behind the big top is the backyard, the cheap goods sold by concessionaires are slum, the powder used to make lemonade is flookum, the diner or club-car on the train is the privilege-car, a Ferris wheel is a hoister, a merry-go-round is a jenny, the last performance of the season is the blow-off, the trip to Winter quarters is the home-run, the South is down yonder, and the show itself is the opery. The traveling showmen have borrowed many terms from the stage, e.g., props, stand, paper (posters), dark (closed), B. O. (box office), and at liberty (out of work), and others, as I have noted, from the argot of criminals. An outsider is a clem or gilly, and Milburn says that the old cry of “Hey-rube!,” raised when local rowdies attacked a show, is now supplanted by “Clem!”1

  The larger traveling shows are followed by all sorts of minor enterprisers – operators of gambling devices, sellers of quack medicines, street peddlers, and so on. Some of these are tolerated and others simply exercise their inalienable right to flock along. The street peddlers, who call themselves pitchmen, frequently undertake independent tours, and not a few of them have covered the whole country. Their trade journal is the Billboard (Cincinnati), which also caters to all other outdoor showmen, and every week they contribute to it what they call pipes, i.e., news reports from the field, describing business conditions and telling of the movements of pitchmen. There are high pitchmen and low, the former addressing their customers from automobiles or platforms, and the latter operating from the ground level, with their goods displayed on or in a suitcase (keister) set upon a tripod (tripe). The contents of the keister are the flash, the audience is the tip, to sell is to turn, listeners who fade away without buying are mooches and are said to blow, those who buy are monkeys, chumps or naturals, when business is bad it is larry, to hand out merchandise is to duke, and confederates, if they are used, are boosters, lumpers, sticks or skills. Money is gelt, take, kale, scratch or geedus. To cut up pipes or jackpots is to gossip or boast. An indoor stand is a jam-pitch.

  The various specialists have their own names. One who sells fruit- or vegetable-squeezers is a juice-worker, one who takes subscriptions (usually for farm papers) is a paper man, leaf worker, name-gatherer or sheet worker, one who sells medicines (now usually vitamins) is a med worker, and one who deals in horoscopes is a scape worker. Plated ware is floozum, metal polish is flookum, knives are shivs, cement is gummy, spot-removers or other cleaners are rads (from eradicator), watches are blocks, billfolds are pokes, fountain-pens are ink-sticks, spectacles are googs, a ring is a hook, corn cures are corn punk, handkerchiefs are wipes, and flower bulbs are horn nuts. Household articles in general are gadgets, and any sort of electrical device is a coil. To disperse an audience is to slough the tip. To break sales resistance is to turn the tip.1 One of the gifts of pitchmen to the general vocabulary seems to be phony or phoney, the origin of which still engages lexicographers.2

  The fakers who hire stores and stage auction sales of phoney jewelry, silverware and other such gimcrackery constitute a variety of pitchmen, somewhat below the salt. Their sales are known in the trade as grind auctions. Their business, of course, calls for much more capital than the ordinary pitchman can command, but otherwise they follow his methods pretty closely, especially those he uses in a jam-pitch. A study of their argot, by Fred Witman, was published in American Speech in 1928.1 It includes many of the usual pitchmen’s terms, and also the following:

  Cold turkey. A price at which merchandise will be sold to the first bidder who names it, without any effort to induce a higher bid.

  Drop, v. To sell.

  Freeze, v. To alarm the customers by some transparent fraud or other blunder.

  Line. Double the cost.

  Lift, v. To recognize imaginary bids, and so stimulate further bidding.

  Mahula, v. To go broke.2

  Minch. An undesirable spectator.3

  Mischcowain, v. To monkey around.4

  Mitsia. A flashy but defective diamond.5

  O. G. (Old girl). A woman who frequents sales without buying.

  Peter Funk. A decoy bidder on articles that fail to bring the prices hoped for.6

  Yinceth, v. To trim a sucker.7

  Zagger. A cheap watch movement in a showy case.

  The stage in its various forms shares with the newspapers and the radio the burden of disseminating neologisms in the Republic, and its chief organ, Variety, has probably set afloat more of them than any other single agency.1 But in addition to their services in this cultural field stagefolks also use many peculiar terms of their own. Some of them go back to the days of Shakespeare, but most, of course, are more recent, and there is a constant birth of new ones. The first effort that I am aware of to compile an American glossary was made by the highly respectable but stage-struck Dr. Brander Matthews in 1917.2 In the following list3 I have omitted terms whose meaning is known to everyone, e.g., star, box-office, ingénue, one-night stand, angel, hand, S. R. O., properties, understudy, tryout and free-list.4

  Ad lib, v. To insert lines not in the script.

  Apron. That part of the stage between the curtain and the footlights.

  Backing. Scenery hung behind doors, windows and other openings in the set.

  Back-stage. Behind the scenes.5

  Bit. A small part.

  Blow up, or dry up, or balloon, v. To forget one’s lines.

  Borders. Short curtains or strips of scenery (foliage, etc.) behind the top of the proscenium arch and across the top of the stage; also lights along the sides thereof.

  Box set. A setting enclosed on all sides save the one opening to the audience.

  Break. The end of a performance.

  Business. Any action save spoken dialogue.

  Dog. An audience outside New York. To try out a play on the road is to try it on the dog.

  Doubling. Playing more than one part in the same play.

  Dressing. Filling a house with pass-holders likely to applaud.1

  Drop. A flat, hanging piece of scenery.

  Entrance. Any avenue of ingress to the stage, as a door in scenery; also, the actor’s use of it.

  Fat. Said of a part that gives the performer a good chance to show off his talents.

  Featured. Said of an actor whose name appears in the advertising of a play directly below that of the play itself, usually preceded by with.

  Flies. The region above the stage opening.

  Foots. Footlights.2

  Frohman. The manager of a theatre on the road.3

  Front of the house. The lobby, box-office and manager’s office.4

  George Spelvin. A name used on play-bills for a minor actor in a walk-on rôle, or to conceal the fact that an actor whose real name is given in one rôle is doubling in another.5

  Ghost. The company treasurer. The ghost is said to walk on payday.

  Good theatre. Effective on the stage, though maybe deficient in artistic plausibility.

  Grip. A stagehand.

  Ground-cloth. The stage carpet.6

  Ham. A bad actor.7

  Heavy. An actor playing serious rôles; the villain of the old-time melodramas.

  House. The audience.

  House stuff. Equipment which is the property of the theatre rather than of the company.

  Legitimate. Any theatrical enterprise devoted to the production of actual plays by living actors, and excluding musical comedy, vaudeville, burlesque, melodrama and t
he like.

  Melodrama. Originally a play with music; now a play marked by scenes of extravagant theatricality.

  Mugging. Overdoing facial pantomime.

  O. P. (opposite prompt). The side of the stage to the actor’s left. Now obsolete.

  Open cold, v. To present a play in New York without a tryout elsewhere.

  Opry-house. An old, dirty and poorly equipped theatre.

  Palmy days. The legendary great days of the stage, often recalled by old actors.

  Paper. Free tickets. A house is said to be papered when it includes many persons admitted on passes.

  Plot. The scheme or plan of a performance. The stage hands follow a scene-plot, the electricians a lighting-plot, and the property-men a propplot.

  Pop. The traditional nickname for the stage doorkeeper.

  Prompt side. The side of the stage to the actor’s right.1

  Rep company. A company presenting a répertoire of plays on the road.

  Road, or sticks. Any place in the United States save New York.2

  Script. The typescript of a play.

  Show business. The stage in all its branches.1

  Side. A page in the typescript of an actor’s speeches, given to him to memorize.

  Speech. A unit of an actor’s spoken part; it may be one word or a thousand.

  Split week. A week on the road divided between two or more towns.

  Stand. The engagement of a company, as in week-stand.

  Straw-hat, hayloft, cowshed or barn. A Summer theatre.2

  Tank-town. A small town.3

  Teaser. A short curtain or strip of scenery along the top of the proscenium arch.

  Thinking part. A part including no spoken lines.

  Tom company. A company presenting “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” in the back country, now obsolete.

  Top. The price of the most expensive seat in the house, excluding those in the boxes.

  Tormenters. Fixed wings or curtains at the sides of the stage, directly behind the proscenium arch.

  Trouper. An experienced actor, especially on the road.

  Turkey. A failure.

  Up-stage. Away from the audience; said of an actor of haughty mien.

  Walk on, v. To play a part with no lines and little business.

  William Winter.4 A dramatic critic.

  Vaudeville, in its heyday, had a rich argot of its own, some of which survives in the general vocabulary of the stage:5

  Actors’ Bible. Originally, the New York Clipper; now Variety.

  Ape. A performer who filches material from others.

  Blue. Said of a line or piece of business with obscene overtones.

  Brutal brothers. An act in which the performers beat each other up to draw laughs.

  Dead-pan. A comedian who shows no facial expression.

  Deuce spot. The second place on the bill.

  Dumb act. One in which there are no spoken words.

  Excess-baggage. A wife or other woman traveling with a male performer but not working in the show.

  Feeder, or straight man. A performer who serves a comedian by drawing out his jocosities.

  Harp. An Irish comedian.

  Headliner. A performer whose name appears at the head of the list of acts in the theatre’s billing, usually in larger letters than the others.1

  Heat. A performance.

  Hokum, or hoke, or gonk. A time-worn gag, speech, situation or piece of business that is known to wring applause or tears from any audience.

  Hoofer, or heel-beater. A dancer.

  In one. Said of an act that works before a drop hung in the first groove, the nearest to the footlights.2

  Leaptick. A mattress on which an acrobat lands; also, by metaphor, the pad used to make the belly of a comedian supposed to be fat.

  Monologist. A performer offering a monologue, usually without songs or dances.

  Neat. Said of a dancing act that avoids buffoonery or acrobatics.

  Patter. The lines spoken by a hoofer, acrobat, magician, animal trainer, or other such performer.

  Plant. A person in the audience – sometimes the leader of the orchestra – put there to feed a performer.

  Pratfall. A fall on the backside.3

  Production. An act with elaborate scenery and requiring a company of some size.

  Professor. The leader of the house orchestra.4

  Routine. The text or programme of an act.

  S. and D. Song and dance.

  Single. A performer working alone.

  Sister act. Two women working together, usually billed as sisters.

  Sitting on their hands. Said of an audience chary with applause.

  Slap-stick. An implement used by comedians. It consists of two pieces of wood, in shape like barrel-staves, fastened together at one end, usually with a handle at that end. When it is brought down on the fundament of another performer it makes a loud noise.

  Small time. Vaudeville circuits on which performers were required to perform more than three times a day.

  Spot. The place of a turn on the bill.5

  Stop the show, v. To win so much applause that it causes a delay in the performance.

  Subway circuit. All the theatres within reach of the New York subways.

  Supper-turn. A turn forced to go on at 6 P.M., when the audience in a continuous-performance house is smallest.

  Tin-pan alley. The region in New York in which the publishers of popular songs have their offices.1

  Turn. Any sort of act.

  Union. The musicians of the house orchestra; used facetiously.

  Vamp. The music played by the orchestra before a performer launches into his song or dance.2

  Many of these terms, like those given in the preceding vocabulary, are now more or less obsolete, for vaudeville has decayed sadly. At the same time the minstrel show has almost disappeared.3 Meanwhile, the argot of burlesque, which was once virtually identical with that of vaudeville, has had to be enlarged to take in the vocabulary of strip-tease. The latter was listed by H. M. Alexander in his “Strip Tease” in 1938.4 From his list, and the help of other authorities,5 I have put together the following:

  Boston version. A show purged of its worst indecencies.6

  Bump, v. To thrust the hips forward.7

  Burleycue. Burlesque.

  Bust-developer. A performer who croons off-stage while the strip-teaser is at work.

  Cacky. Obscene.

  Catching the bumps. One of the jobs of the drummer in the orchestra.

  Flannel-mouth, or stooge. A straight man who acts as feeder to the comedian.8

  Flash. The sudden exposure at the end of an act, presumably of the entire carcass.

  Gadget. A G-string.

  Grind, v. To revolve the backside.

  Meat-show. A burlesque show offering strip-teasers.

  Milk, v. To wring applause and recalls.

  Painted on the drop. Said of a performer who has no lines to speak.

  Panel. A strip-teaser’s diaphanous draperies.

  Parade. The preliminary march across the stage in full costume.

  Quiver, v. To rotate or oscillate the breasts.

  Set-up. The performer’s figure.

  Shimmy, v. To shake the whole body.

  Skull. A comedian’s grimace.

  Sleeper-jump. A dressing-room remote from the stage.

  Slinger, or peeler, or shucker, or stripper. A strip-teaser.

  Snake. A sinuous and accomplished teaser.

  Third banana. A comedian who submits to assault by another comedian.

  Trailer. The strip-teaser’s exhibitionary strut before beginning to take off her clothes.

  Wham. A strip-tease in which the teaser removes virtually all her clothes.

  Wheel. A circuit of burlesque theatres.

  Yock. A loud laugh.1

  The recurring efforts to put down strip-teasing have produced, in many cities, rules for its regulation. In New York, in 1941, those rules were as follows:

  Strippers must perfo
rm on a darkened stage; all bumps must be toward the wings, not frontwise; during grinds the hands may stray, but they mustn’t touch; the flash (the apparent moment of complete nudity) must be at one of the wings, may only last for eight bars of music, and may expose only one breast.2

  Before the days of the strip-tease the women of burlesque were largely of Brünnhildian build, as indeed were the chorus girls of musical comedy before 1900. They were called hill-horses or beef-trusts, the last a reference to Billy Watson’s famous “Beef Trust” company, the billing of which announced that it offered “two tons of women.” When less massive girls began to appear they were called ponies. But hill-horse disappeared from memory with the old-time horse-cars, and was supplanted by big horse.3 In the 1900 era there was a distinction between a chorus-girl and a show-girl or clothes-horse. The former simply hoofed and sang in the ensembles; the latter was a more pretentious performer who wore expensive costumes and sometimes had a few lines. In recent years there has appeared the swing-girl, who, when shows play seven nights a week, relieves other girls on their nights off.1 Chorus girls apparently speak the argot of whatever branch of the theatre they happen to adorn, but they also have some terms of their own. In 1943 Earl Wilson, saloon editor of the New York Evening Post and a recognized expert on Broadway lexicography, was reporting that those then laboring in the night-clubs were using to fluff off to signify getting rid of an unwelcome admirer, falsies for the pads which converted them from perfect 32’s to perfect 34’s,2 and “Don’t give me that jive” or “Don’t give me that routine” as a set reply to honeyed advances.3 From time to time afterward he added other terms, e.g., square or creep for a stupid and tiresome person,4 body for any man, to give him the B.R.U. (from brushoff) for to get rid of him, to smoke up for to smarten up, fractured for under the influence of alcohol, and sex appeal for the aforesaid falsies.5 The ladies of the more decorous ballet, whether Russian6 or operatic, also have a trade language, made up chiefly of technical terms,7 but so far as I have been able to discover there is no special lingo of opera proper.