American Language (89 page)

Where an obvious logical or lexical distinction has grown up between an adverb and its primary adjective the unschooled American is very careful to give it its terminal
-ly
. For example, he seldom confuses
hard
and
hardly, scarce
and
scarcely, real
and
really
. These words convey different ideas.
Hard
means unyielding;
hardly
means barely.
Scarce
means present only in small numbers;
scarcely
is substantially synonymous with
hardly. Real
means genuine;
really
is an
assurance of veracity. So, again, with
late
and
lately
. Thus, an American says “I don’t know,
scarcely
,” not “I don’t know,
scarce”;
“He died
lately
,” not “He died
late.
”
¹⁴⁸
But in nearly all such cases syntax is the preservative, not grammar. These adverbs seem to keep their tails largely because they are commonly put before and not after verbs, as in, for example, “I
hardly
(or
scarcely
) know,” and “I
really
mean it.” Many other adverbs that take that position habitually are saved as well, for example,
generally, usually
,
surely, certainly
. But when they follow verbs they often succumb, as in “I’ll do it sure,” and when they appear in front of adjectives they usually succumb, too, as in “It was
sure
hot” and “I will write
real
soon.”
¹⁴⁹
Practically all the adverbs made of verbs in
-y
lose the terminal
-ly
and thus become identical with their adjectives. I have never heard
mightily
used; it is always
mighty
, as in “He hit him
mighty
hard.” So with
filthy, dirty, nasty, lowly, naughty
and their cognates. One hears “He acted
dirty
,” “He spoke
nasty
,” “The child behaved
naughty
,” and so on. Here even Standard English has had to make concessions to euphony.
Cleanlily
is seldom used;
cleanly
nearly always takes its place. And the use of
illy
and
thusly
is confined to the half educated.
¹⁵⁰

Vulgar American, like all the higher forms of American and all save the most precise form of written English, has abandoned the old inflections of
here, there
and
where
, to wit,
hither
and
hence
,
thither
and
thence, whither
and
whence
. These fossil remains of dead cases are fast disappearing from the language. In the case of
hither
(
to here
) even the preposition has been abandoned. One says, not “I came
to here
,” but simply “I came
here
” In the case of
hence
, however,
from here
is still used, and so with
from there
and
from where
. Finally, it goes without saying that the common American tendency to add
s
to such adverbs as
towards
is carried to full length in the vulgar language. One constantly hears, not only
some-wheres
and
forwards
, but even
noways
and
anyways, where’bouts
and
here’bouts
. Here we have but one more example of the movement toward uniformity and simplicity.
Anyways
is obviously fully supported by
sideways
and
always
. As for the dropping of the
a
of
about
in
here’bouts
and
where’bouts
, it is supported by the analogous dropping of the
al
in
almost
, when the word precedes
all, anyone
or
everybody
. One seldom hears “
Almost anyone
can do that”; the common form is “
most anyone.
”
¹⁵¹

In Vulgar American the double negative is so freely used that the simple negative appears to be almost abandoned. Such phrases as “I see nobody,” “I could hardly walk,” “I know nothing about it” are heard so seldom among the masses of the people that they appear to be affectations when encountered; the well-nigh universal forms are “I
don’t
see nobody,” “I
couldn’t
hardly walk,” and “I
don’t
know nothing about it.” Charters lists some very typical examples, among them, “He ain’t
never
coming back
no
more,” “You
don’t
care for nobody but yourself,” “Couldn’t be
no
more happier” and “I
can’t
see nothing.” In Lardner there are innumerable others: “They was
not
no team,” “I have
not
never thought of that,” “I can’t write
no
more,” “
No
chance to get
no
money from
nowhere
,” “We
can’t
have
nothing
to do,” and so on. Some of his specimens show a considerable complexity, for example, “Matthewson was
not
only going as far as the coast,” meaning, as the context shows, that he was going as far as the coast and no farther. Many other curious specimens are in my collectanea, among them: “One swaller
don’t make
no
Summer,” “I
never
seen nothing I would of rather saw,” and “Once a child gets burnt once it
won’t
never stick its hand in
no
fire
no
more,” and so on. The last embodies a triple negative. In “You
don’t
know
nobody
what don’t want
nobody
to do
nothing
for ’em, do you? there is a quadruplet, and in “I
ain’t never
done
no
dirt of
no
kind to
nobody
” reported from the Ozarks by Vance Randolph, there is a quintuplet.

Like most other examples of “bad grammar” encountered in American, the compound negative is of great antiquity and was once quite respectable. The student of Old English encounters it constantly. In that language the negative of the verb was formed by prefixing a particle,
ne
. Thus,
singan
(
to sing
) became
ne singan
(not to sing). In case the verb began with a vowel the
ne
dropped its
e
and was combined with the verb; in case it began with an
h
or a
w
followed by a vowel, the
h
or
w
of the verb and the
e
of
ne
were both dropped, as in
nœfth
(
has not
), from
ne-hcejth
(not has), and
nolde
(
would not
), from
ne-wolde
. Finally, in case the vowel following a
w
was
i
, it changed to
y
, as in
nyste
(
knew not
), from
ne-wiste
. But inasmuch as Old English was a fully inflected language the inflections for the negative did not stop with the verbs; the indefinite article, the indefinite pronoun and even some of the nouns were also inflected, and survivors of those forms appear to this day in such words as
none
and
nothing
. Moreover, when an actual inflection was impossible it was the practice to insert this
ne
before a word, in the sense of our
no
or
not
. Still more, it came to be the practice to reinforce
ne
, before a vowel, with
na
(
not
) or
naht
(
nothing
), which later degenerated to
not
and
not
. As a result, there were fearful and wonderful combinations of negatives, some of them fully matching the best efforts of Lardner’s baseball players. Sweet gives several curious examples.
¹⁵²
“Nan ne
dorste
nan
thing ascian,” translated literally, becomes “
No
one dares
not
ask
nothing.
” “Thæt hus
na ne
feoll” becomes “The house did
not
fall
not.
” As for the Middle English “He
never
nadde
nothing
,” it has too modern and familiar a ring to need translating at all. Chaucer, at the beginning of the period of transition to Modern English, used the double negative with the utmost freedom. In the prologue to “The Knight’s Tale” is this:

By the time of Shakespeare this license was already much restricted, but a good many double negatives are nevertheless to be found in his plays, and he was particularly shaky in the use of
nor
. In “Richard III” one finds “I never was
nor never
will be”; in “Measure for Measure,” “Harp not on that
nor
do
not
banish treason”; and in “Romeo and Juliet,” “I will not budge for
no
man’s pleasure.” Most of these have been expunged by ticklish editors, but the double negative continues to flourish, not only in the vulgar speech but also on higher levels. I turn to the
Congressional Record
and at once find “
without hardly
the batting of an eye.”
¹⁵³
Indeed, even such careful writers of English as T. H. Huxley, Robert Louis Stevenson and Leslie Stephen have occasionally succumbed.
¹⁵⁴
The double negative is perfectly allowable in the Romance languages, and now and then some anarchistic English grammarian boldly defends and even advocates it. A long time ago a writer in the
London Review
¹⁵⁵
argued that its abandonment had worked “great injury to strength of expression.” Obviously, “I
won’t
take
nothing
” is stronger than either “I
will
take
nothing
” or “I
won’t
take
anything
” And equally without doubt there is a picturesque charm, if not really any extra vigor in the vulgar American “He
ain’t
only got
but
one leg,” “I
ain’t
scarcely got practically
nothing
,” “She
never
goes hardly
nowhere
,” “Time is what we
ain’t
got
nothing but
” and “
Ain’t nobody
there,” the last, of course, being understood to mean “There is no one there.” “I
wouldn’t
be surprised if it
didn’t
rain” is almost Standard American. So is the somewhat equivocal form represented by “I have
never
been able to find
but
a single copy.”
¹⁵⁶
In the Southern mountains the double negative flourishes lushly. Here are some specimens submitted to a candid world by Dr. Josiah Combs:
¹⁵⁷

To which may be added the title of a once-popular song: “I ain’t
never
done
nothing
to
nobody no
time.” And the following contribution by Will Rogers: “
Neither don’t
put anybody to work.”
¹⁵⁸
And the inquiry of a storekeeper in Washington county, Virginia, supplied by Mr. Carl Zeisberg, of Glenside, Pa.: “There
wouldn’t
be
nothing
I
couldn’t
show you, you
don’t
think?” Says Mr. Zeisberg: “I think I know the reason for these complex negatives: their genesis lies in an innate consideration for the customer’s wishes, an excessive timidity.”

“Language begins,” says Sayce, “with sentences, not with single words.” In a speech in process of rapid development, unrestrained by critical analysis, the tendency to sacrifice the integrity of words to the needs of the complete sentence is especially marked. One finds it clearly in vulgar American. Already we have examined various assimilation and composition forms:
that’n, use’to, woulda, them’ere
, and so on. Many others are observable.
Off’n
is a good example; it comes from
off of
or
off from
and shows a preposition decaying to the form of a mere inflectional particle. One constantly hears “I bought it
off’n
John.”
Sorta, kinda, coupla, outa
and their like follow in the footsteps of
woulda. Usen’t
follows the analogy of
don’t
and
wouldn’t
, as in “I didn’t
usen’t
to be.”
Would’ve
and
should’ve
are widely used; Lardner commonly heard them as
would of
and
should of
. The neutral
a
-particle also appears in other situations, especially before
way
, as in
that-a way, this-a way
and
atta-boy
. It is found again in
a tall
, a liaison form of
at all
.
¹⁵⁹
It most often represents
of
or
have
, but sometimes it represents
to
, as in
orta
and
gonta
(going to). There are philologians who believe that the appearance of such particles indicates that English, having shed most of its old inflections, is now entering upon a new inflected stage. “Form,” says George O. Curme,
¹⁶⁰
“is now playing a greater role than in early Modern English. The simplification of our English, our most precious heritage, was carried a little too far in older English, and
it was later found necessary to add more forms, and in the present interesting period of development still more are being created.” “The articulatory words of a purely positional language,” adds George Kingsley Zipf,
¹⁶¹
“will tend in time to become agglutinized to the words they modify, and through agglutinization become inflectional affixes.… As they become more firmly agglutinized they become more formally inflections which modify the meaning of the word to which they are appended. The use of the affix is extended to other words to modify their meaning in the same direction. The language thus becomes more and more inflected.” Dr. Zipf calls this “the grand cycle in linguistic development,” and believes that English is now on the up-curve. A study of liaison in spoken American — for example, the use of
farzino
for
as far as I know
, noted by David Humphreys in his glossary so long ago as 1815 — should throw some light upon this process, but that study still lags.
¹⁶²