Posted: 20 May 2007 12:15 PM   [ Ignore ]
Total Posts:  3127
Joined  2007-01-30

Couldn’t resist sharing this, found while idly browsing through the online OED.

Sweedle, v. obs. slang

[Blend of SWINDLE v.2 and WHEEDLE v.]

trans. To swindle by wheedling. Hence sweedling vbl. n. and ppl. a.

1908 H. A. JONES Dolly reforming Herself IV. 94 I’m not going to be sweedled!{em}Matt. What is sweedled? Harry. Sweedling is sweedling! It’s part swindling and part wheedling!

Lovers of Dickens will instantly call to mind Poll Sweedlepipe from Martin Chuzzlewit, but connection there is none, it seems. (The very mention of that book makes me want to pick it up and read it again, I haven’t read it in years. It almost killed me when I first read it in my early 20s, I laughed so hard.

`You have become indifferent since then, I suppose?’ said Mr. Pecksniff. `Use is second nature, Mrs. Gamp.’

`You may well say second natur, sir,’ returned that lady. `One’s first ways is to find sich things a trial to the feelings, and so is one’s lasting custom. If it wasn’t for the nerve a little sip of liquor gives me (I never was able to do more than taste it), I never could go through with what I sometimes has to do. “Mrs. Harris,” I says, at the very last case as ever I acted in, which it was but a young person, “Mrs. Harris,” I says, “leave the bottle on the chimley-piece, and don’t ask me to take none, but let me put my lips to it when I am so dispoged, and then I will do what I’m engaged to do, according to the best of my ability.” “Mrs. Gamp,” she says, in answer, “if ever there was a sober creetur to be got at eighteen pence a day for working people, and three and six for gentlefolks—night watching,”’ said Mrs. Gamp with emphasis, `"being a extra charge—you are that inwallable person.” “Mrs. Harris,” I says to her, “don’t name the charge, for if I could afford to lay all my feller creeturs out for nothink, I would gladly do it, sich is the love I bears ‘em. But what I always says to them as has the management of matters, Mrs. Harris:”’ here she kept her eye on Mr. Pecksniff: `"be they gents or be they ladies, is, don’t ask me whether I won’t take none, or whether I will, but leave the bottle on the chimley-piece, and let me put my lips to it when I am so dispoged.”’

Collapse of aldiboronti into helpless fits of laughter.