Proofreading is hard and this article from an 1885 Kentucky newspaper makes me feel a little better about the typos I miss.
Painstaking people, who know next to nothing of printing, finding a special delight in searching out typographic errors in newspapers, periodicals and books, the detection of a blunder, in their own estimation, putting a premium on individual intelligence—conferring a privilege of disparaging printers. Men of intelligence who write well but not legibly never tire of pointing out mistakes of printers and the oversights of proofreaders. These self-constituted censors of typography may find food for wholesome reflection in the fact that just about one hundred years ago a number of professors in the Edinburg University undertook the publication of a book which should be a perfect specimen of typographical accuracy. Every conceivable precaution was taken to prevent errors of the types. Six experienced proof readers were employed who devoted hours to the reading of each page. After their careful task was completed, each page was posted in the hall of the University with a notification that £50 would be paid to any person who should succeed in discovering an error. Every page remained thus publicly exposed for for two weeks before being returned to the printing office. The projectors of the work felt confident that the object so diligently striven for had been attained. Great was the discomfiture of the learned men when, on the work being issued, several errors were found, one occurring in the first line of the first page.
Showing posts with label Words. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Words. Show all posts
Friday, March 18, 2016
Monday, October 12, 2015
proantitransubstantiationableness
OREGON CLIPPINGS is getting closer and closer to being published so here are clippings from OREGON CLIPPINGS about words. The last clipping is more about names than words but I needed to include at least one funny clipping.
The longest word in the English language is “proantitransubstantiationableness,” a jointed word of 33 letters. “Transubstantiationableness” is the next longest.
Herr Polack, a well-known engineer and electrician, has discovered, says the Vienna correspondent of the London Chronicle, a means of telegraphing 60,000 words per hour over a single wire.
E.D. Halloway has been telegraph operator at Pasco for 10 years without a vacation, and has sent an average of 100 telegrams a day during that time.
Among all the European languages the English is the richest so far as the number of words is concerned, and it is also the one which has added to its vocabulary the largest number of words within the last half century. The latest English dictionaries contain not less than 260,000 different words. Next in rank comes the German language, with 80,000 words, and then come in succession the Italian, with 35,000, the French with 30,000, and the Spanish with 20,000 words. Among the oriental languages the Arabic is the most copious, its vocabulary being even richer than that of the English language. In the Chinese languages there are 10,000 syllables or roots, out of which it is possible to frame 49,000 words. Another notable language is the old Indian Tamil, which is now spoken in the south of India, and which contains, according to the latest calculation, 67,642 words. In the Turkish language there are 22,530 words. A singular fact is that aborigines, as a rule, have very limited vocabularies. The Kaffirs of South Africa have at their disposal not more than 8,000 words, and the natives of Australia use only 2,000 words.
There is a fashion in language, as there is in dress and in customs. One year “only cads ride bicycles,” and the next year society sanctions the use of the wheel by members of the Four Hundred. Croquet goes out and tennis comes in, to be succeeded in popular favor in its turn by golf. So it is with our written and printed speech. A chance use of a word or the coining of a happy phrase is followed by the adoption and constant iteration of the favorite expression until the monotony of it grows wearisome. Unlike a fashion in dress, the new phrases are not discarded. We get accustomed to them and use them still, and we use also the new forms of speech to express other ideas. No one nowadays speaks of a tendency; it is always a “trend.” Ten years ago “trend” was a fad-word. Now it has quite superseded the use of the older and more accurate word. There were “combines” and “deals” before those words were invented, and there was no difficulty about expressing the ideas without them. We may call this era the Reign of the Intensive Adverb. A plain, simple, unattended verb is becoming unusual. Does any man complain? He is sure to “complain bitterly.” He is also “bitterly disappointed,” although his feeling of disappointment may be momentary. No one in this age fails without failing “utterly.” These adverbs are additions to the old stock of awfullies, fearfullies, totallies, completelies and the like, which came in with the last generation. When all the superlatives are used up, where will the word-makers go to find forms of expression when strong and comprehensive words are required? [Author’s note: The Four Hundred were the social elite of New York City in the late 19th century. Four hundred is supposedly the number of people Mrs. William Backhouse Astor, Jr.'s ballroom could accommodate.]
A couple named Newton Lord and Jennie Helper were married in an eastern Kentucky town some days ago and the editor of the local paper was almost clubbed to death by the indignant groom because he made use of the heading, “Lord–Helper.”
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| This graphic is from Pixabay.com |
Herr Polack, a well-known engineer and electrician, has discovered, says the Vienna correspondent of the London Chronicle, a means of telegraphing 60,000 words per hour over a single wire.
E.D. Halloway has been telegraph operator at Pasco for 10 years without a vacation, and has sent an average of 100 telegrams a day during that time.
Among all the European languages the English is the richest so far as the number of words is concerned, and it is also the one which has added to its vocabulary the largest number of words within the last half century. The latest English dictionaries contain not less than 260,000 different words. Next in rank comes the German language, with 80,000 words, and then come in succession the Italian, with 35,000, the French with 30,000, and the Spanish with 20,000 words. Among the oriental languages the Arabic is the most copious, its vocabulary being even richer than that of the English language. In the Chinese languages there are 10,000 syllables or roots, out of which it is possible to frame 49,000 words. Another notable language is the old Indian Tamil, which is now spoken in the south of India, and which contains, according to the latest calculation, 67,642 words. In the Turkish language there are 22,530 words. A singular fact is that aborigines, as a rule, have very limited vocabularies. The Kaffirs of South Africa have at their disposal not more than 8,000 words, and the natives of Australia use only 2,000 words.
There is a fashion in language, as there is in dress and in customs. One year “only cads ride bicycles,” and the next year society sanctions the use of the wheel by members of the Four Hundred. Croquet goes out and tennis comes in, to be succeeded in popular favor in its turn by golf. So it is with our written and printed speech. A chance use of a word or the coining of a happy phrase is followed by the adoption and constant iteration of the favorite expression until the monotony of it grows wearisome. Unlike a fashion in dress, the new phrases are not discarded. We get accustomed to them and use them still, and we use also the new forms of speech to express other ideas. No one nowadays speaks of a tendency; it is always a “trend.” Ten years ago “trend” was a fad-word. Now it has quite superseded the use of the older and more accurate word. There were “combines” and “deals” before those words were invented, and there was no difficulty about expressing the ideas without them. We may call this era the Reign of the Intensive Adverb. A plain, simple, unattended verb is becoming unusual. Does any man complain? He is sure to “complain bitterly.” He is also “bitterly disappointed,” although his feeling of disappointment may be momentary. No one in this age fails without failing “utterly.” These adverbs are additions to the old stock of awfullies, fearfullies, totallies, completelies and the like, which came in with the last generation. When all the superlatives are used up, where will the word-makers go to find forms of expression when strong and comprehensive words are required? [Author’s note: The Four Hundred were the social elite of New York City in the late 19th century. Four hundred is supposedly the number of people Mrs. William Backhouse Astor, Jr.'s ballroom could accommodate.]
A couple named Newton Lord and Jennie Helper were married in an eastern Kentucky town some days ago and the editor of the local paper was almost clubbed to death by the indignant groom because he made use of the heading, “Lord–Helper.”
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