Dante’s Inferno: ‘I found myself in a dark wood where the straight way was lost.’ Lillian Hellman had earlier entitled one of her plays Another Part of the Forest (1946) and Beryl Bainbridge, a novel, Another Part of the Wood (1968).
another Sunday and sweet FA This phrase was used as the title of a Granada TV play by Jack Rosenthal (UK 1972) about the struggles of a referee during an (amateur) Sunday-morning football game. But was it a phrase before the play? Compare the (subsequent) diary of a member of the British forces in the Falklands conflict, found on the internet. On Sunday 16 May 1982, he wrote: ‘All I can say about today is another bloody Sunday and sweet FA. We were due to be linked up with the rest of the task force during the night but due to the extreme bad weather all ships have had to slow down.’
answer See IS THE RIGHT.
(the) answer is in the plural and they bounce That is to say, ‘balls!’ – reputedly the response given by the architect Sir Edwin Lutyens to a Royal Commission. However, according to Robert Jackson, The Chief (1959), when Gordon (later Lord) Hewart was in the House of Commons, he was answering questions on behalf of David Lloyd George. For some time, one afternoon, he had given answers in the customary brief parliamentary manner – ‘The answer is in the affirmative’ or ‘The answer is in the negative’. After one such non-committal reply, several members arose to bait Hewart with a series of rapid supplementary questions. He waited until they had all finished and then replied: ‘The answer is in the plural!’
(the) answer’s a lemon! Fobbing-off phrase. ‘My Cumbrian grandmother when asked a question would reply, “The answer’s a lemon”. “Why?” we asked – “Suck it and see,” was her response’ – Janet C. Egan (2000). This exchange brings together two well-known expressions. ‘The answer is a lemon’, being a non-answer to a question or a refusal to do something requested of one, is probably of American origin and seems to have been in use by 1910. A lemon is acidic and sour, and there are several other American phrases in which a lemon suggests that something is unsatisfactory or not working properly. The lemon is also the least valuable object on a fruit machine. ‘Suck it and see’, meaning ‘try out’, presumably derives from what you would say about a sweet – ‘suck it and see whether you like the taste of it’. It was used as a catchphrase by Charlie Naughton of the Crazy Gang, though it is probably of earlier music-hall origin – at least according to W. Buchanan-Taylor, One More Shake (1944). Partridge/Slang dates it from the 1890s. A correspondent, H. E. Johnson, suggested (1999) that it started with a Punch cartoon at the turn of the 19th/20th century, with the caption: First urchin: ‘I don’t know if this here’s a plum or a beetle.’ Second urchin: ‘Suck it and see.’
(to) answer the call of nature A lavatorial euphemism known since 1761 when Laurence Sterne’s Tristram Shandy had that someone ‘hearkened to the call of nature.’ ‘The calls of nature are permitted and Clerical Staff may use the garden below the second gate’ – Tailor & Cutter (1852). ‘Call of nature “sent [Robert] Maxwell overboard”…He would frequently get up in the middle of the night and found it more convenient, as a lot of men do on a boat, to relieve themselves over the side as it was moving’ – headline and text, The Independent (21 October 1995). There is also the variant, ‘(to) answer a certain requirement of nature.’ The call of the great outdoors may also be used in the same way. Originally the phrase ‘great outdoors’ was used simply to describe ‘great open space’ (by 1932).
(the) answer to a maiden’s prayer An eligible bachelor – especially one who is young, good-looking and wealthy. Perhaps a Victorian coinage, now used only ironically or somewhat mockingly and also used in a wider sense to refer to anything one might have been searching for. There is an ancient tradition that maidens prayed to St Agnes (patron saint of virgins) on 20 January, in the hope of being granted a vision of their future husbands. Hence, the poem by John Keats, ‘The Eve of St Agnes’ (1820). ‘The Maiden’s Prayer’ was the translated title given to the piano solo popular in Victorian drawing-rooms, ‘Molitwa dziewicy’ by the Polish composer Thekla Badarzewska (1834–61). ‘Here, you Freshmen, Seniors, et al, is the answer to a maiden’s prayer’ – Mademoiselle Magazine (15 August 1935).
Anthea, give us a twirl See DIDN’T HE DO WELL.
anxiety See AGE OF.
any colour so long as it’s black An expression used to convey that there is, in fact, no choice. This originated with Henry Ford, who is supposed to have said it about the Model T Ford that came out in 1909 and is quoted in his My Life and Work (written with Henry Crowther, 1922). Hill and Nevins in Ford: Expansion and Challenge (1957) have him saying: ‘People can have it any colour – so long as it’s black.’ However, in 1925, the company had to bow to the inevitable and offer a choice of colours. Dr Harry Corbett commented (1996): ‘Initially, the T model was available in several colours but…the early finishing technique was a carryover from the carriage industry and resulted in curing times of up to four weeks. This meant that huge numbers of cars had to be stored during the finishing process. From what I can gather, Ford changed to a faster drying product – which was only available in black – to rid himself of the warehousing difficulties.’
any gum, chum? Remark addressed to American GIs based in Britain during the Second World War. ‘Crowds of small boys gathered outside American clubs to pester them for gifts, or called out as American lorries passed: “Any gum, chum?” which rapidly became a national catchphrase’ – Norman Longmate, How We Lived Then (1971).
any more fer sailing? See BY GUM.
any more for the Skylark? The age-old cry of swarthy fishing-folk inviting seaside visitors to take a trip around the bay but now domesticated into a ‘generalised invitation’, as Partridge/Catch Phrases puts it. But how did it get into the language in the first place? A pamphlet (undated) entitled ‘Any More for the Skylark? The Story of Bournemouth’s Pleasure Boats’ by L. Chalk tells of a whole series of ‘Skylark’ vessels run by a certain Jake Bolson at that seaside resort from 1914 to 1947. There is, however, a much earlier source. A researcher at the Brighton Fishing Museum disclosed that a boat owner/skipper of those parts called Captain Fred Collins had owned many ‘Skylarks’ in his career. As he died in 1912, Collins was clearly ahead of the Bournemouth boats. Indeed, the Brighton Gazette had mentioned a ‘new pleasure yacht, “The Skylark”’ arriving from the builders in May 1852. The Gazette’s earliest citation of the actual phrase ‘Any more for the Skylark’ occurs in the edition of 17 November 1928 (in an article concerning Joseph Pierce, who took over from Collins). This does not explain how the phrase caught on beyond Brighton (perhaps through a song or stage-show sketch?) The edition of 8 May 1948 placed it among other pleasure boat cries: ‘Brighton’s fishermen…will take their boats down to the sea and the summer season chorus of “Any more for the Skylark,” “Half-way to China,” “Motor boat going” and “Lovely ride out” will start again.’ A variation, all aboard the Skylark!, was apparently popularized by Noah and Nelly, an animated British TV children’s programme of the mid-1970s.
(is there/have you) any more, Mrs Moore? Elaborations of ‘any more?’, from the British music-hall song ‘Don’t Have Any More, Mrs Moore!’ – written by Castling & Walsh (early 1900s) and performed by Lily Morris.
anyone for tennis? This perkily expressed inquiry from a character entering through French windows and carrying a tennis racquet has become established as typical of the ‘teacup’ theatre of the 1920s and 30s (as also in the forms who’s for tennis? and tennis, anyone?). A clear example of it being used has proved elusive, however, although there
