Apologies
The site remains incomplete. I will add to it as time allows. I did want to apologize if in any way my views cause offence to anyone living or dead. In that I know I make a number of claims which may not be held by everybody. However, my researches would indicate that these questions warrant voice.
I also want to take the opportunity to apologize to Louise Lind. She kindly sent me a copy of her book, 'William Blackstone: Sage of the Wilderness", some years ago and asked for any thoughts. I never got back to her. Not even with a thank you. All I can say in my defense was that I had moved address three times in a short space of time and it was some time before the book reached me. That and timing wasn't too good for me. Therefore please accept my apologies.
I should also apologize for, what at times, is blatant plagiarism.
Chris Atkinson (1959-)
FOREIGNERS
THINK WE’RE
FUNNY!
Don’t
be impatient with our foreign visitors if they get into difficulties
with the Queen’s English. Here is an old verse, author unknown, which should
help us to realise what they are up against.
Let’s begin with box; the plural is boxes,
But
the plural of ox is oxen, not oxes,
One
fowl a goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of mouse Is never meese.
You
may find a lone mouse or a whole nest of mice,
But
the plural of house Is houses, not hice.
If
the plural of man Is always men,
Why
shouldn’t the plural of pan be pen?
If
I speak of a foot and you show me two feet
If
I give you a boot, would the pair be called beet?
If
one is a tooth and the whole set are teeth,
Why
shouldn’t the plural of booth be called beeth?
If
the singular’s this and the plural these,
Should
the plural of kiss ever be keese?
We
speak of a brother and also of brethren,
But
though we say mother, we never say methren.
Now
the masculine pronouns are he, his, and him.
But
Imagine the feminine, she, shis and shim !
*
"Many, many years ago, when
I was twenty-three,
I was married to a widow who was pretty as could be,
This widow had a grown up daughter who had hair of red,
My father fell in love with her, and soon they too were wed.
{chorus}
Oh, I'm my own grandpa.
I'm my own grandpa.
It sounds funny I know, but it really is so,
I'm my own grandpa.
This made my dad my son-in-law
and really changed my life,
Now my daughter was my mother, cause she was my father's wife.
To complicate the matter, even though it brought me joy,
I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy.
My little baby then became a
brother-in-law to Dad,
And so became my uncle, though it made me rather sad.
For if he was my uncle, then that also made him brother,
Of the grown-up daughter, who, of course, was my stepmother.
Father's wife then had a son who
kept him on the run,
And he became my grandchild, for he was my daughter's son.
My wife is now my mother's mother, and it makes me blue,
Because, although she is my wife, she's my grandmother, too.
Now if my wife is my
grandmother, then I'm her grandchild,
And every time I think of it, it nearly drives me wild,
Cause now I have become the strangest case you ever saw
As husband of my grandmother, I'm my own grandpa!
