---
title: "Down and Out in Paris and London"
author: "George Orwell"
languages: [en]
shelf: "Literature"
section: 32 of 38
url: https://scriptura.si/works/orwell-down-and-out-fp20180314/32/
cite: "George Orwell, Down and Out in Paris and London, section 32. Scriptura (scriptura.si), https://scriptura.si/works/orwell-down-and-out-fp20180314/32/"
---

# Down and Out in Paris and London

*George Orwell*

> * A Distributed Proofreaders Canada eBook *

> This eBook is made available at no cost and with very few
restrictions. These restrictions apply only if (1) you make
a change in the eBook (other than alteration for different
display devices), or (2) you are making commercial use of
the eBook. If either of these conditions applies, please
contact an FP administrator before proceeding.

> This work is in the Canadian public domain, but may be under
copyright in some countries. If you live outside Canada, check your
country's copyright laws. IF THE BOOK IS UNDER COPYRIGHT
IN YOUR COUNTRY, DO NOT DOWNLOAD OR REDISTRIBUTE THIS FILE.

> Title: Down and Out in Paris and London
Date of first publication: 1933
Author: George Orwell (1903-1950)
Date first posted: Mar. 14, 2018
Date last updated: Mar. 14, 2018
Faded Page eBook #20180314

> This eBook was produced by: Delphine Lettau, Howard Ross
& the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net

> GEORGE ORWELL

> _Down and Out_
    _in Paris and London_

> O scathful harm, condicion of poverte!
       CHAUCER

> PENGUIN BOOKS

> First published by Victor Gollancz 1933

> Copyright 1933 by Eric Blair

> [The end of _Down and Out in Paris and London_ by George Orwell]

## 32. Chapter XXXII

Source: https://scriptura.si/works/orwell-down-and-out-fp20180314/32/ · cite a paragraph as https://scriptura.si/works/orwell-down-and-out-fp20180314/32/#p-N

[¶0] I want to put in some notes, as short as possible, on London slang and
swearing. These (omitting the ones that everyone knows) are some of the
cant words now used in London:

[¶1] A gagger—a beggar or street performer of any kind. A moocher—one who
begs outright, without pretence of doing a trade. A nobber—one who
collects pennies for a beggar. A chanter—a street singer. A
clodhopper—a street dancer. A mugfaker—a street photographer. A
glimmer—one who watches vacant motor-cars. A gee (or jee—it is
pronounced jee)—the accomplice of a cheapjack, who stimulates trade by
pretending to buy something. A split—a detective. A flattie—a
policeman. A didecai—a gypsy. A toby—a tramp.

[¶2] A drop—money given to a beggar. Funkum—lavender or other perfume sold
in envelopes. A boozer—a public-house. A slang—a hawker's licence. A
kip—a place to sleep in, or a night's lodging. Smoke—London. A judy—a
woman. The spike—the casual ward. The lump—the casual ward. A
tosheroon—a half-crown. A deaner—a shilling. A hog—a shilling. A
sprowsie—a sixpence. Clods—coppers. A drum—a billy can.
Shackles—soup. A chat—a louse. Hard-up—tobacco made from
cigarette-ends. A stick or cane—a burglar's jemmy. A peter—a safe. A
bly—a burglar's oxy-acetylene blowlamp.

[¶3] To bawl—to suck or swallow. To knock off—to steal. To skipper—to
sleep in the open.

[¶4] About half of these words are in the larger dictionaries. It is
interesting to guess at the derivation of some of them, though one or
two—for instance, 'funkum' and 'tosheroon'—are beyond guessing.
'Deaner' presumably comes from 'denier'. 'Glimmer' (with the verb 'to
glim') may have something to do with the old word 'glim', meaning a
light, or another old word 'glim', meaning a glimpse; but it is an
instance of the formation of new words, for in its present sense it can
hardly be older than motor-cars. 'Gee' is a curious word; conceivably it
has arisen out of 'gee', meaning horse, in the sense of stalking horse.
The derivation of 'screever' is mysterious. It must come ultimately from
_scribo_, but there has been no similar word in English for the past
hundred and fifty years; nor can it have come directly from French, for
pavement artists are unknown in France. 'Judy' and 'bawl' are East End
words, not found west of Tower Bridge. 'Smoke' is a word used only by
tramps. 'Kip' is Danish. Till quite recently the word 'doss' was used in
this sense, but it is now quite obsolete.

[¶5] London slang and dialect seem to change very rapidly. The old London
accent described by Dickens and Surtees, with v for w and w for v and so
forth, has now vanished utterly. The Cockney accent as we know it seems
to have come up in the 'forties (it is first mentioned in an American
book, Herman Melville's _White Jacket_), and Cockney is already
changing; there are few people now who say 'fice' for 'face', 'nawce'
for 'nice' and so forth as consistently as they did twenty years ago.
The slang changes together with the accent. Twenty-five or thirty years
ago, for instance, the 'rhyming slang' was all the rage in London. In
the 'rhyming slang' everything was named by something rhyming with it—a
'hit or miss' for a kiss, 'plates of meat' for feet, etc. It was so
common that it was even reproduced in novels; now it is almost
extinct.[7] Perhaps all the words I have mentioned above will have
vanished in another twenty years.

[¶6] [7] It survives in certain abbreviations, such as 'Use your twopenny'
for 'Use your head.' 'Twopenny' is arrived at like this: head—loaf of
bread—twopenny loaf—twopenny.

[¶7] -----

[¶8] The swear words also change—or, at any rate, they are subject to
fashions. For example, twenty years ago the London working classes
habitually used the word 'bloody'. Now they have abandoned it utterly,
though novelists still represent them as using it. No born Londoner (it
is different with people of Scotch or Irish origin) now says 'bloody',
unless he is a man of some education. The word has, in fact, moved up in
the social scale and ceased to be a swear word for the purposes of the
working classes. The current London adjective, now tacked onto every
noun, is 'fucking'. No doubt in time 'fucking', like 'bloody', will find
its way into the drawing-room and be replaced by some other word.

[¶9] The whole business of swearing, especially English swearing, is
mysterious. Of its very nature swearing is as irrational as
magic—indeed, it is a species of magic. But there is also a paradox
about it, namely this: Our intention in swearing is to shock and wound,
which we do by mentioning something that should be kept secret—usually
something to do with the sexual functions. But the strange thing is that
when a word is well established as a swear word, it seems to lose its
original meaning; that is, it loses the thing that made it into a swear
word. A word becomes an oath because it means a certain thing, and,
because it has become an oath, it ceases to mean that thing. For
example, 'fuck'. The Londoners do not now use, or very seldom use, this
word in its original meaning; it is on their lips from morning till
night, but it is a mere expletive and means nothing. Similarly with
'bugger', which is rapidly losing its original sense. One can think of
similar instances in French—for example, '_foutre_', which is now a
quite meaningless expletive. The word '_bougre_', also, is still used
occasionally in Paris, but the people who use it, or most of them, have
no idea of what it once meant. The rule seems to be that words accepted
as swear words have some magical character, which sets them apart and
makes them useless for ordinary conversation.

[¶10] Words used as insults seem to be governed by the same paradox as swear
words. A word becomes an insult, one would suppose, because it means
something bad; but in practice its insult-value has little to do with
its actual meaning. For example, the most bitter insult one can offer to
a Londoner is 'bastard'—which, taken for what it means, is hardly an
insult at all. And the worst insult to a woman, either in London or
Paris, is 'cow'; a name which might even be a compliment, for cows are
among the most likeable of animals. Evidently a word is an insult simply
because it is meant as an insult, without reference to its dictionary
meaning; words, especially swear words, being what public opinion
chooses to make them. In this connection it is interesting to see how a
swear word can change character by crossing a frontier. In England you
can print '_Je m'en fous_' without protest from anybody. In France you
have to print it '_Je m'en f_ . . .' Or, as another example, take the
word 'barnshoot'—a corruption of the Hindustani word _bahinchut_.[8] A
vile and unforgiveable insult in India, this word is a piece of gentle
badinage in England. I have even seen it in a school text-book; it was
in one of Aristophanes' plays, and the annotator suggested it as a
rendering of some gibberish spoken by a Persian ambassador. Presumably
the annotator knew what _bahinchut_ meant. But, because it was a foreign
word, it had lost its magical swear-word quality and could be printed.

[¶11] [8] _The French translation has this note (in French)_: A word for which
there is no precise equivalent in French. In Hindustani, _bahin_ means
'sister' and _chut_ 'the sexual organ'. To call someone _bahinchut_ is
to remind him gratuitously that you are on the most intimate terms with
his sister. _Barnshoot_ is the same word corrupted by the English
soldiers who brought it back to England; it has completely lost its
original meaning.

[¶12] -----

[¶13] One other thing is noticeable about swearing in London, and that is that
the men do not usually swear in front of the women. In Paris it is quite
different. A Parisian workman may prefer to suppress an oath in front of
a woman, but he is not at all scrupulous about it, and the women
themselves swear freely. The Londoners are more polite, or more
squeamish, in this matter.

[¶14] These are a few notes that I have set down more or less at random. It is
a pity that someone capable of dealing with the subject does not keep a
year-book of London slang and swearing, registering the changes
accurately. It might throw useful light upon the formation, development
and obsolescence of words.
