Wrestling With Big Words

English gardeners are almost more daring than the cooks in handling I long words. This comes, no doubt, of i their dangerous familiarity with Latin names of plants, says the London Globe. Not long ago in a malaprop competition there appeared the following excellent specimen, racy of kitchengarden soil: "111 proflígate a dozen or two more plants, and then I'll libel them." A eombination coachmangardener is reported to have invariably alluded to an indispensable portion of carriage harness as the "lobeliabacd." Indeed, from motives of delicacy or politeness, strange liberties are taken with the tqueen's English, as, for example, when my lady admired a piece of pilot cloth at the local tailor's, and was told that it was sometimes "inquired for by ladies for peamantles." Anything out of the common in nomenelaUirc runs the risk of being burlesqued by unskilled tongues. The nurse who called her charges Miss "Burial" and Miss "Jones'' must have made their mother wisli she had never christened them l?eryl and Joan. As Betsy and Jane they would have come off all right. Ilorses, too, with fine names get strangely miscalled in the stable. One pair known by their master as Itustem and Sohrab degenerated first into "Rusty and Soreback," and feil ultimately into the commonplace as "the little horse and the docthor." There is generally somebody - a lady as a rule - in each district on whom its finest malaprops are fathereil, sometimes quite unfairly. It Is she who ia reported to have made that speech about the glories of her father's house, up to the door of wMch there ran a "revenue of pepular trees;" she who asked her daughter to play that little "malady" she had learned at the "cemetery." and she ayain who pronounced Mr. lirown as "proud as Luther."