Saskatchewan

Saskatoon, Saskatchewan in winter. The city’s skyline viewed from across the mostly frozen South Saskatchewan River.

Saskatoon, Saskatchewan in winter. The city’s skyline viewed from across the mostly frozen South Saskatchewan River.

2 September 2021

Like many North American provinces and states, the Canadian province of Saskatchewan is named for a river that runs through it. Saskatchewan is an Anglicization of the Cree name for the river, kisiskâciwanisîpiy (fast-flowing river).

The English spelling appears by 1816, when it appears in a description of the North American fur trade penned by Thomas Douglas, the fifth Earl of Selkirk:

The case is different with respect to the Indian inhabitants of those countries in which the Fur Trade is carried on. Among them a material distinction is to be observed between different tribes. Those who inhabit the plains of the Saskatchewan, Red River, and other fertile districts, can obtain such abundance of buffaloe and game, that they are seldom in want of provisions.

Saskatchewan became the name of a district in the Northwest Territories in 1882, and the province was created in 1905.

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Sources:

Douglas, Thomas, Earl of Selkirk. A Sketch of the British Fur Trade in North America, second edition. London: James Ridgway, 1816, 42. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Everett-Heath, John. Concise Oxford Dictionary of World Place Names, sixth ed. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2020. Oxfordreference.com.

Pearce, Margaret Wickens. Coming Home to Indigenous Place Names in Canada (map). Canadian-American Center, University of Maine, 2017.

Rayburn, Alan. Oxford Dictionary of Canadian Place Names. Don Mills, Ontario: Oxford UP Canada, 1999.

Alberta

1 September 2021

A farm near St. Albert, Alberta on an autumn afternoon. A large barn and several other buildings surrounded by fields of harvested corn, below a partly cloudy sky.

A farm near St. Albert, Alberta on an autumn afternoon. A large barn and several other buildings surrounded by fields of harvested corn, below a partly cloudy sky.

Because they are settler-colonist creations, provincial or state names generally have no corresponding Indigenous names, and that is true for Alberta. However, the area that now houses the Calgary, Alberta’s largest city, is known in the Blackfoot language as Mohkinsstsis (elbow), after the bend in the Bow river that runs through the city.

Alberta itself, then a province of the Northwest Territories, was named in 1882 after Princess Louise Caroline Alberta, fourth daughter of Queen Victoria and wife of the then governor-general of Canada. The naming was recorded in Dundee, Scotland’s Evening Telegraph on 19 December 1882:

It has been decided that the country situated between the western limits of Manitoba and the eastern boundary of British Columbia shall be divided into four territorial divisions, name respectively, Assiniboia, Saskatchewan, Alberta, and Athabaska.

Alberta became a province in 1905.

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Sources:

“Canada.” Evening Telegraph (Dundee, Scotland), second edition, 19 December 1882, 3. Gale Primary Sources: British Library Newspapers.

Everett-Heath, John. Concise Oxford Dictionary of World Place Names, sixth ed. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2020. Oxfordreference.com.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, September 2012, modified March 2019, s.v. Albertan, n. and adj.

Pearce, Margaret Wickens. Coming Home to Indigenous Place Names in Canada (map). Canadian-American Center, University of Maine, 2017.

Rayburn, Alan. Oxford Dictionary of Canadian Place Names. Don Mills, Ontario: Oxford UP Canada, 1999.

Photo credit: WinterforceMedia, 2008. Public domain image.

wop

Sheet music cover to the 1908 “Italian novelty song” Wop, Wop, Wop! by James Brockman, picturing a stereotypical caricature of an Italian man with dark hair, long moustache, earring, and red bandana.

Sheet music cover to the 1908 “Italian novelty song” Wop, Wop, Wop! by James Brockman, picturing a stereotypical caricature of an Italian man with dark hair, long moustache, earring, and red bandana.

31 August 2021

Wop is an American ethnic slur for an Italian person, and sometimes more generally for someone from southern Europe or even any foreigner. It starts appearing in American speech in the early years of the twentieth century.

It can, with a fair degree of confidence, be traced back to the Latin vappa, a noun literally referring to spoiled wine and figuratively to a worthless person, a good-for nothing. We can see this second, figurative sense in the poetry of Catullus (c.84–c.54 BCE):

Verani optime tuque mi Fabulle,
quid rerum geritis? satisne cum isto
vappa frigoraque et famem tulistis?

(Most excellent Veranius, and you my Fabullus, how are you? Have you borne cold and hunger with that good-for-nothing [Piso] long enough?)

Horace (65–8 BCE) also uses this sense in his first satire, but he used it in a more specific sense of a spendthrift:

non ego, avarum cum veto te fieri, vappam iubeo ac nebulonem

(When I forbid you from being a miser, I am not asking you a be a spendthrift and prodigal.)

This sense was continued in the Romance languages, and in Spanish guapo came to mean a dandy, a well-dressed man, a metrosexual. This sense transferred to the Sicilian dialect during Spanish rule of that island from the late thirteenth to the early eighteenth centuries, where it also acquired the connotation of arrogance and bluster. Immigrants from Sicily brought the word to North America at the turn of the twentieth century, where it was often used to refer to work bosses and eventually to workers and laborers themselves. It slipped into English usage with the senses we know today. Unsurprisingly, the American uses start in New York City and spread from there over the next few years.

The earliest appearances of wop in American slang that have been found were unearthed by Douglas Wilson. Earlier examples probably exist, but searching for wop in databases of digitized texts is very difficult due to the large number of OCR errors with such a short word. It appears in the New York Sun of 16 February 1906 as the nickname for a juvenile delinquent:

Detective J.J. McVea of the Charles street station, who arrested the boys, says that the robbery of the safe was a remarkable one and showed no trace of amateurism. It was committed by four boys. Besides Lyons and Murphy, he says, there were in it Albert Moquin, 14 years old, of 68 West Third street, and one whom Lyons calls “Oscar the Wop,” or “Oscar the Dago.”

The Sun also records this use on 18 November 1906, this one clearly in the sense of someone of Italian, specifically Sicilian, descent:

There was a time, not very long ago, when you couldn't find a Wop—that means an Italian in the latest downtown dialect—in Danny's resort even by using a microscope. But to-day it's different. The members of the Five Points gang, all dark skinned sons of Sicily, grew tired of flitting from place to place, with no set rendezvous for their nightly gatherings. A number of the Pointers used to frequent the place, and it wasn't long before the entire gang became regulars.

The next year the Evening World, another New York paper, has this usage that equates the term with low social class, but not necessarily being of Italian descent. From the 13 April 1907 issue:

There’s plenty of peasants these days, kids. Only we call them muckers and wops. They haven’t any clean clothes, or if they have they won’t wear them, and they don’t care whose wedding day it is.

Several months later, the same paper refers to an Italian-American boxer as a wop (and a Jewish boxer as being from the Ghetto), from the Evening World of 25 June 1907:

At the Brown A. A., on West Twenty-third street, Joe Bernstein, the champion of the Ghetto, will tackle Frankie Paul, the Wop champion, in a six-round go.

And in the Sun of 26 August 1907, we get this account of a dog vs. cat fight escalating into street fighting between ethnic gangs:

The armed truce which had bridged hostilities between the Oak street Wops and the Madison street Yids for a whole week was broken rudely yesterday afternoon when the Giannini Kid’s yellow dog chased the Moe Lichtenstein family cat into the line of sewer pipes stretched ready for laying along James street just below Madison and there slew her. Bloody war flamed along James street on the instant and the blood of the Lichtenstein cat was not avenged.

Green’s Dictionary of Slang records a use of black wop by cartoonist Theodore A. “TAD” Dorgan from 1907. I have been unable to locate the original source, so the context of the short quotation in that dictionary is a bit vague, it may refer to a dark-complexioned person of Italian descent rather than an African American, but I cannot be sure without seeing the original:

I’d bet two bits on that black wop if I wasn’t saving up for a new hat.

The next year it appears outside of New York, but it is in a syndicated story originating from New York. This version was published in the Cincinnati Enquirer on 25 April 1908. Here it is being used in the sense of a well-dressed, important man, specifically a well-respected racing tout, but who by his name would appear to be Irish:

Mooney strolled aft and was soon remarked. “Who’s the wop in the Hi Henry’s?” asked a semi-occasional of young Miffitt, the boy with the proud papa.

Also in 1908, an “Italian novelty” song called Wop, Wop, Wop! by James Brockman was released. The song is quite offensive, but it’s linguistically interesting in that it notes that the term wop is relatively new and because the song’s theme is the changing nature of ethnic slurs. The first verse and chorus go:

When first I come to dees acountiree,
All people call me dago man;—
And you can bet dot was no fun to me,
I feel joust like the empty banan.
Den dey change and call me Guinie
Twice as bad-a name dey gimmie,
I say please make a drop, I beg-a dem to stop,
Now dey call me Wop!

Wop, Wop, Wop!
I wonder why dey call-a me Wop!
It’s a one-a big-a shame,
Dey call me nick-a name,
Dey shout a Toney, you’re a phoney
Look-a like-a Macaroni;
Wop! Wop! Wop!
I wish a cop would make-a dem stop,
First dey call-a me a Dago,
den Guinie, Guinie, Guinie!
Now it’s Wop! Wop! Wop! Wop!

A little later that year, we see wop being used to mean an Italian man. Here it is in a Canadian paper, but it is reporting from New York. From the account of a marathon held at Madison Square Garden published in the Montreal Gazette of 17 December 1908:

The biggest crowd ever seen in Madison Square Garden witnessed the race. At no time in the history of the famous amusement resort has such a closely packed audience been jammed within its four walls. At one time during the closing hours of the recent six-day bicycle race there was a gathering that held the palm for numbers up that time, but this showing was outdone last night when Floyd MacFarland fired the shot at 9.14 that started the Indian and the Wop on their journey of twenty-six miles and 380 yards.

But by 1909 we start seeing unambiguous uses of wop from outside of New York. From the Charleston, South Carolina Sunday News of 14 March 1909, a use as a nickname for a boxer:

I know a duck that’s got two ringside seats that he wants to get rid of because he can’t go himself, and he’ll peddle ’em for less than they cost him. Rattling go, at that. Between Young Corbett, that’s come back, you know, and Marto, the Wop. How ’bout? Some good prelims, and that good main scrap. Sound good?

That same day, another syndicated piece, apparently by the same writer as the story about the racing tout—there is no byline, but the some of the characters in the story are the same—is published in the Washington Post:

Lally looked at him hard, and the tough arm muscles under his shirt sleeves swelled up. “Look here, you pig-eyed selling plater!” he said hotly. “Do you see this Wop?” indicating Frank. “Well if you don’t beat it in a pair of seconds I’ll take this Wop and hit you over the head with him.”

The ethnicity of the man in question is not given.

That’s how wop went from Latin for a good-for-nothing person to American slang for a person of Italian descent.

The idea that wop is an acronym for without passport or without papers has no evidentiary basis at all. This spurious explanation dates to the 1970s.

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Sources:

“Battle of the Sewer Pipes.” The Sun (New York), 26 August 1907, 5. Library of Congress, Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers.

“Boxing Stags To-Night.” Evening World (New York), 25 June 1907, 12. Library of Congress, Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers.

“Boy Safe Looters.” The Sun (New York), 16 February 1906, 3. Library of Congress, Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers.

Brockman, James, composer. “Wop, Wop, Wop!” (song). New York: M. Witmark and Sons, 1908. Library of Congress: Historic Sheet Music Collection, 1800–1922.

Catullus. Poem 28. Catullus, Tibullus, Pervigilium Veneris, second edition with corrections. G.P. Goold, ed. F.W. Cornish, trans.  Loeb Classical Library 6. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 2017, lines 3–5, 32.

“Danny’s Music All On Strike.” The Sun (New York), 18 November 1906, 16. Library of Congress, Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers.

Green’s Dictionary of Slang, 2021, s.v. wop, n.1.

Horace. “Satire 1.1.” Horace: Satires, Epistles, the Art of Poetry, revised edition. H.R. Fairclough, trans. Loeb Classical Library 194. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1929, lines 103–04, 12.

“Keats’s Fate Made Him Sad” (12 March 1909). Sunday News (Charleston, South Carolina), 14 March 1909. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Lewis, Charlton T. and Charles Short. A Latin Dictionary, Oxford: Oxford UP, 1879, s.v. vappa.

McCardell, Roy L. “The Chorus Girl.” Evening World’s Daily Magazine (New York), 13 April 1907, 8. Library of Congress, Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers.

“Mr. Granaday Seeks Revenge” (syndicated). Washington Post, 14 March 1909, M3. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. wop, n.2. and adj.

“Tout Had an Easy Mark” (syndicated). Cincinnati Enquirer (Ohio), 25 April 1908, 13. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

“Will Race Shrubb.” Gazette (Montreal), 17 December 1908, 2. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

Wilson, Douglas G. “‘Wop’ in 1908?ADS-L, 29 April 2010.

Zimmer, Ben. “‘Wop’ Doesn’t Mean What Andrew Cuomo Thinks It Means.” The Atlantic, 23 April 2018.

Image credit: Brockman, James, composer. “Wop, Wop, Wop!” (song). New York: M. Witmark and Sons, 1908. Library of Congress: Historic Sheet Music Collection, 1800–1922. Public domain image.

wog / golliwog

Cover image of Florence K. and Bertha Upton’s 1895 children’s book The Adventures of Two Dutch Dolls and a “Golliwog.” Image of two white, female dolls holding hands with a grotesquely caricatured black, male doll, all curtsying and bowing toward the reader. The Golliwog is depicted in typical blackface minstrel attire: blue jacket with tails and red bowtie and trousers.

Cover image of Florence K. and Bertha Upton’s 1895 children’s book The Adventures of Two Dutch Dolls and a “Golliwog.” Image of two white, female dolls holding hands with a grotesquely caricatured black, male doll, all curtsying and bowing toward the reader. The Golliwog is depicted in typical blackface minstrel attire: blue jacket with tails and red bowtie and trousers.

30 August 2021

Wog is a racist slur, chiefly found in British speech. The word is used as a disparaging term for anyone who isn’t English, especially a person with darker skin or Asian facial features. It’s a clipping of golliwog, the name for a type of black-faced doll popular at the turn of the twentieth century. Golliwog, in turn, is a variation on pollywog.

Golliwog was coined by Florence Kate Upton and first appeared in print in the 1895 children’s book The Adventures of Two Dutch Dolls and a “Golliwogg,” which she wrote in collaboration with her mother, Bertha Upton. Bertha wrote the text and Florence supplied the illustrations. Her depiction of the golliwog was very much in the style of a blackface minstrel performer, dark skin with an afro hair style and wearing a blue jacket with tails and red trousers and bowtie. This passage introduces the golliwog:

“Just one leap more!” cries Sarah Jane,
“This fills my wildest dream!”
          E’en as she spoke,
          Peg’ Deutchland broke
Into a piercing scream.

Then all look round, as well they may
To see a horrid sight!
          The blackest gnome
          Stands there alone,
They scatter in their fright.

With kindly smile he nearer draws;
Begs them to feel no fear.
          “What is your name?”
          Cries Sarah Jane;
“The ‘Golliwogg’ my dear.”

The book was wildly successful on both sides of the Atlantic, and the Uptons would go on to publish a series of books featuring the character of the golliwogg. The books also inspired a lucrative market in golliwogg dolls.

There are many early references to the books and golliwogg dolls at the turn of the twentieth century, but it wasn’t long before golliwog, dropping the second terminal <g>, began to be used as a term for a foreigner, especially a dark-skinned one. There is this reference which appears in a short story published in the Augusta Chronicle of 30 September 1901. Exactly what golliwog refers to here is lost to us today, but it’s certainly not complimentary:

“Mrs. Jack Daring wears a woollen petticoat under her golf skirt,” interrupted Mrs. Max, “although under her waist she wears a paper waistcoat, which she says is warmer than a golf cape, but that is because she likes to show her figure; though Polly Stangner says Mrs. Jack creaks like a golliwog when she swings a club.”

A year later, this description of the punching power of boxer Robert Fitzsimmons appears in the 7 September 1902 Atlanta Journal. It mentions the Irish boxer Peter Maher, nicknamed the Galway Golliwog. In 1902, the Irish, while ranking above those of African or Asian descent in racist categorization schemes, were not considered to be equal to “whites” in American society:

The Fitzsimmons knockout drops were found most efficacious by these persons, and were used by all the notables of the ring, including “Jack” Dempsey, the pet of the Golden Gate; Peter Maher, the Galway Golliwog, and “Billie” McCarthy, the Soft Snap of the Sand Lots[.] In the face of the Fitzsimmons upper cut these gentlemen all went groggy in short order, and the coming champion ventured east in search of soft marks for his ever ready dukes.

And there is this from a short story in the Albany, New York Times-Union. The use of golliwog is in the sense of the doll, but the descriptor brute indicates how people viewed the character. The story is about a talking baby, who at one point says:

You sit glaring at me for ten minutes like—like that brute of a Golliwog I keep upstairs, and then you begin dozing over the fire for all the world like you’d just had a couple of ounces of food. And you expect me to say nothing.

And for unabashed racism, it is hard to top this use of golliwog to refer to a Polynesian man that appeared in short story published in the Philadelphia Inquirer of 28 February 1909:

One member of the Braddock household was not included in the general staff, being a mere appendage of the Professor himself. This was a dwarfish, mis-shapen Kanaka, a pigmy in height, but a giant in breadth, with short, thick legs, and long powerful arms. He had a large head, and somewhat handsome face, with melancholy black eyes and fine set of white teeth.

Like most Polynesians, his skin was of a pale bronze and elaborately tattooed, even the cheeks and chin being scored with curves of straight lines of mystical import.

“I do not like that Golliwog,” breathed Mrs. Jasher to her host, when the Cockatoo was at the sideboard. “He gives me the creeps.”

“Imagination, my dear lady, pure imagination. Why should we not have a picturesque animal to wait upon us?”

The clipping to wog happens a few years later. The earliest recorded uses are in World War I soldier slang published shortly after the war. There is this from Lionel James’s 1921 The History of King Edward’s Horse in a reference to events of 1917:

The King Edward’s Horse called the Indian Cavalry “The Wogs”—which is the diminutive of “Golliwogs,”—a description that was very apt of these dark apparitions in khaki and tin-hats.

The clipped form wog never caught on in American speech, and golliwog dropped out of American speech as memories of the books and dolls faded. But both continue as racist slurs to this day in British speech to this day.

The disappearance of the Uptons’ character from popular memory made room for speculation as to the origin of wog, and several false acronymic explanations developed to justify the term. The most common are westernized / worthy / wily / wonderful oriental gentleman or working on government service, this last supposedly stenciled on the shirts of Egyptian workers on the Suez Canal. Of course, these explanations are all false, with no evidentiary support.

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Sources:

Elverson, James. “The Green Mummy.” Philadelphia Inquirer, 28 February 1909, 6. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

James, Lionel. The History of King Edward’s Horse. London: Sifton, Praed, 1921, 128. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Jenkins, Wilberforce. “Who’s What and Why in America.” Atlanta Journal, 7 September 1902, Feature Section 2. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

“Our Daily Story: It and I.” Times-Union (Albany, New York), 21 June 1904, 6. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, December 2016, modified March 2020, s.v. wog, n.1.; second edition, 1989, s.v. golliwog, n.

Townsend, Edward W. “Chronicle’s Daily Short Story: Maj. Max’s Ghost.” Augusta Chronicle (Georgia), 30 September 1901, 5. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Upton, Bertha. The Adventures of Two Dutch Dolls and a “Golliwogg.” Florence K. Upton, illus. Boston: De Wolfe, Fiske, and Co., 1895. Project Gutenberg.

Image credit: Florence K. Upton. The Adventures of Two Dutch Dolls and a “Golliwog.” Boston: De Wolfe, Fiske, and Co., 1895. Public domain image.

Toronto

The Toronto skyline viewed from Centre Island in Lake Ontario, featuring the CN Tower and the Rogers Centre (the domed structure), home to baseball’s Toronto Blue Jays.

The Toronto skyline viewed from Centre Island in Lake Ontario, featuring the CN Tower and the Rogers Centre (the domed structure), home to baseball’s Toronto Blue Jays.

27 August 2021

The name of the city in which I used to live is from the Kanienʼkehá꞉ka (Mohawk) word tkaronto / Aterón:to, meaning “trees standing in the water.” The name is a good example of how place names can shift geographically. It is not unusual for a name to start in one place and, over time, move to eventually become associated with a different place entirely. The name Toronto also has a long-standing false etymology attached to it.

Toronto was originally a reference to Native-American fishing weirs consisting of pilings (the so-called “trees standing in water”) with nets strung between them, driven into the narrows between Lake Simcoe and Lake Couchiching, a location that is about 85 miles (137 km) north of the present city. Samuel de Champlain described the weirs in 1615 but did not record the Indigenous word. But a 1703 English translation of Louis Armand de Lom d'Arce Lahontan’s New Voyages to North-America refers to what is now called Matchedash Bay, an arm of Georgian Bay, as the Bay of Toronto. And a map accompanying the book shows the location of the fishing weirs and labels it Torontogerõn.

The name gradually drifted south, following a trade route from the interior to the shores of Lake Ontario. What is now the Humber River, which runs somewhat west of what is now the city center, began to be called Rivière Toronto. Eventually, the French built Fort Rouillé, also called Fort Toronto, located on the shore of Lake Ontario in what is now Exhibition Place. The French garrison abandoned and burned the fort in 1759 during the French and Indian War (Seven Years’ War), but the name Toronto stuck to the site. The French fort and the name Toronto for the site are mentioned in the journal of Robert Rogers, an officer in the British army during the French and Indian War (Seven Years’ War) in the entries for the period 30 September to 1 October 1760:

There is a track of about 300 acres of cleared ground, round the place where the French had a fort, that was called Fort Toronto. The soil here is principally clay. The deer are extremely plenty in this country. Some Indians were hunting at the mouth of the river, who run into the woods at our approach, very much frightened. They came in, however, in the morning, and testified their joy at the news of our success against the French. They told us “that we could easily accomplish our journey from thence to Detroit in eight days: that when the French traded at that place, the Indians used to come with their poultry from Michlimakana, down the river Toronto: that the partage [sic] was but twenty miles from that to a river falling into Lake Huron, which had some falls, but none very considerable: they added, that there was a Carrying-place of fifteen miles from some westerly part of Lake Erie, to a river running without any falls, thro’ several Indian towns into Lake St. Clair.

I think Toronto a most convenient place for a factory, and that from thence we may easily settle the north-side of Lake Erie.

We left Toronto the 1st of October, steering  south, right across the west end of Lake Ontario. At dark we arrived at the south-shore, five miles west of Fort Niagara, some of our boats now become exceeding leaky and dangerous.

In 1787 the British bought a thousand square kilometers of land from the Mississauga Indians in what was known as the Toronto Purchase. But in 1793, when the British constructed their first settlement on the site of what is now the city, they called it York, after the Duke of York, Frederick Augustus, who had just won a military victory in Flanders against the French revolutionaries. The name York was an unpopular choice, because many preferred the native name they were familiar with and because it could be confused with New York or any of a number of other Yorks, but it remained official until 1834 when the city was incorporated under the name Toronto. Vestiges of the York name remain, for example the neighborhood I used to live in is known as North York.

There is a story that the name Toronto is from a Native American word meaning “place of meeting,” supposedly a reference to a grouping of native villages on the shores of Lake Ontario. This origin is incorrect. This false etymology was first promulgated by historian Henry Scadding in his 1873 book Toronto of Old, in which he assumed the name comes from the Huron toronton, defined by Gabriel Sagard in his 1636 Dictionnarie de la Langue Huronne as “il y en a beaucoup” (there are many). Scadding mentions the “trees rising out of the water” explanation, but dismisses it as a misinterpretation by Europeans, who upon hearing the word assumed it applied to the tall trees in the area around the native settlements.

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Sources:

Champlain, Samuel De. Voyages of Samuel de Champlain 1604–1618. W.L. Grant, ed. Original Narratives of Early American History. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1907, 288. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Everett-Heath, John. Concise Oxford Dictionary of World Place Names, sixth ed. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2020. Oxfordreference.com.

Lahontan, Louis Armand de Lom d'Arce. New Voyages to North-America, vol. 1 of 2. London: H. Bonwicke, et al., 1703, 182 Gale Primary Sources: Eighteenth Century Collections Online.

Pearce, Margaret Wickens. Coming Home to Indigenous Place Names in Canada (map). Canadian-American Center, University of Maine, 2017.

Rayburn, Alan. Oxford Dictionary of Canadian Place Names. Don Mills, Ontario: Oxford UP Canada, 1999.

Rogers, Robert. Journals. London: J. Millan, 1765, 206–07. Gale Primary Sources: Eighteenth Century Collections Online.

Scadding, Henry. Toronto of Old. Toronto: Adam, Stevenson, 1873, 3,73–75. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Photo credit: Aaron Davis, 2020. Used under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license.