Etymological Archaeology

Some words end up as road-kill in busy ever-changing human vocabularies. Others are merely injured and limp along in altered shape for a while until they too pass away, rarely to be seen again. A few are preserved like stuffed animals in a museum for the occasional browser to pause and stare at with an unbelieving shake of the head.

Here are a few museum pieces, inexpertly glued together to form a little tale.

A wurp from the castle, a bellibone who was acersecomic took adlubescence in beeking on cold nights, so she croodled to the hearth where she would glop porridge. She was usually quite a gundygut and ate until she quetched. Sometimes she would pingle when she dreamed of the killbuck whose lovedrury she caressed. As a dilling she had few friends and was agruwed at the faldoodle of the hoddypeaks in the village. She didn't like to squiddle or spuddle. Sadly she was widdershins because the man she loved was a porknell and a magsman. How sad !

Translation: A stone's throw from the castle, a lovely maiden whose hair had never been cut took pleasure in basking before the fire on cold nights, so she crept close to the hearth where she would greedily swallow porridge. She was usually quite a glutton and ate until she moaned and twitched in pain. Sometimes she would eat with little appetite when she dreamed of the fierce looking fellow whose keepsake she caressed. As a child born when her parents were old, she had few friends and was horrified at the nonsense of the simpletons in the village. She didn't like to waste time with idle talk nor make trifles appear important. Sadly, she was unlucky because the man she loved was as fat as a pig and a swindler. How sad !


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