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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



CORRESPONDENCE. 



INFIRMITIES OF SPEECH. 

 To the Editor of the Popnlar Science Monthly : 



THE article in the August number of the 

 Monthly upon "Infirmities of Speech " 

 was a stimulant to much curious reflection. 

 A true student of character will see, among 

 the men and women he meets in the parlor, 

 idiosyncrasies of speech and manner that 

 are common to quite a large class of people. 

 Dr. Trousseau's patient was but one of many. 

 The wife of a physician of this city, former- 

 ly an inspector of the Board of Health, cre- 

 ated much merriment among acquaintances 

 by the singularity of her answers to the 

 simplest questions. Nearly every expres- 

 sion was a comparative one. To a stran- 

 ger her conversation appeared of the qual- 

 ity of humorous extravagance. Upon one 

 occasion she was asked the condition of a 

 friend who had been a long time sick. 

 "-Oh, she's about like the lid of a stove," 

 was the reply. This excited laughter, but 

 was unsatisfactory. " Was she feverish ? " 

 " No." " Was she in a chill ? " " No, she 

 was just like the lid of a stove, don't you 

 understand '? " Her husband explained the 

 expression by saying that the sick friend 

 was exceedingly nervous, and that his wife, 

 in making the comparison, alluded to the 

 dancing of a tea-kettle on a hot stove. From 

 early girlhood she had employed this ex- 

 pression, to the exclusion of the correct one. 

 In their reminiscences, Charles and Mary 

 Cowden Clarke mention a similarity in the 

 speech of George Dyer. With a question, 

 answer, or other observation, he would be- 

 gin intelligently ; after a few words, fill in 

 the space of several others with a series of 

 abd's, as if choking, and, in concluding, 

 would invariably use " Well, sir, but, how- 

 ever." A gentleman of rich culture and 

 high professional eminence has used " and 

 consequently" since he was a boy, when- 

 ever he exhausted breath in his rapid 

 speech, was unable to grasp the correct 

 word, or was interrupted. He was, and 

 still is, unconscious of this peculiarity. He 

 will so designate a man, a woman, a piece 



of furniture, or any object whose proper 

 name is for the time hidden. This habit, 

 as the untutored would denominate it, is so 

 apparent that a stranger would detect it in 

 five minutes. 



The ability to always use the best words 

 to give force to an idea is possessed by so 

 few, that the promiscuous gathering of 

 words, if not too idiotic, is charitably 

 passed over without remark. 



A young lady, whose company is much 

 solicited for the graces of her mind, under- 

 goes a most piteous embarrassment from 

 the effects of this infirmity. In the early 

 part of the evening her choice of words will 

 be faultless ; and she will render a criticism 

 or narrative with an enviable flow. But, 

 later, she becomes nervous, hesitates, stud- 

 ies her words, trips, and then stumbles on 

 to the climax with nouns, adjectives, ad- 

 verbs, and verbs that darken, instead of 

 illumine, the " point." It is but a few 

 evenings ago that, in speaking of the influ- 

 ence of Hans Christian Andersen's tales, 

 she said : " Now, how few writers are capa- 

 ble of so eSectively consolidating the con- 

 tradictory impulses that arise in a child's 

 mind ! No, I mean so effectively con 

 con well, mix up will oil." And, when 

 conciliate was mentioned, she said that was 

 the word she desired. If she ventured 

 upon a further observation the infirmity 

 increased, so far as to leave her sentence a 

 hopeless wreck. 



Many will say this is a habit, and only 

 becomes an infirmity by being allowed too 

 free scope. Still, the best-educated people 

 are subject to it. 



To carelessness is attributed another 

 peculiarity, not of speech, but of action. 

 The physician before alluded to was unable 

 to page his manuscript of stenographic re- 

 ports of lectures before the College of Phy- 

 sicians and Surgeons. The figure 8 was 

 always uppermost in his mind, and all but 

 the first page would have that numeral in 

 the upper left-hand corner. When arrang- 

 ing the pages for eyelets or tape, he was 



