Glengarry: Scottish fore and aft narrow headress usually adorned with a cockade.
go and call the cows home: Be given the strength to attend easily to any task. Usually added after a big meal.
go spare: Totally lose control.
go ’way (out of that): Dublin. I don’t believe you, or I know you are trying to fool me.
gobshite: Dublin. Literally, dried nasal mucus. Used pejoratively about a person.
gong: Medal.
good skin: Dublin. Decent person.
gossoon: From the Irish garsún, boy.
gub: Mouth. Also, to “dig in” one’s gub is to punch it in.
gulder: To roar in anguish.
gullier: Dublin. The largest marble in a game of marbles.
gumming for: Dublin. Desperately hungry.
gurrier: Dublin. Street urchin, but often used pejoratively about anyone.
guttees: Canvas shoes so called because the rubber soles were made of gutta-percha.
half cut: Quite drunk. (Or someone might be simply “cut,” really drunk.) Paul Dickson in Dickson’s Word Treasury (John Wiley and Sons, New York, 1982) cites 2,660 euphemisms for “drunk.” Many have come from the Emerald Isle.
half-un: Measure of whiskey. (Also served hot, with cloves, lemon juice, sugar, and boiling water added.)
hames: Testicles. Used in the sense, “Taylor made a right hames [balls] of explaining ‘hames.’”
ham-fisted: Very clumsy.
hang about: Ulster. Wait a minute.
hat, the: Foreman, so called because traditionally he wore a bowler hat (derby).
hear him, hear him: The forerunner of “Hear, hear.” A statement of complete agreement.
heel(s) of the hunt: When everything has been concluded.
heel tap: Drink much more slowly than the rest of the company, often to avoid having to pay for a round.
highheejin: Very important person. Often in the subject’s own mind.
hobby horse shite: Literally sawdust. Rubbish.
horse into: Dublin. Drink up rapidly.
hot as the hobs of hell: Hobs are fireplace sidecasings with flat surfaces level with the grate. Those in hell would be hot indeed.
house floors: The first floor in a multistorey house in America would be called the ground floor in Ireland, thus the U.S. second floor is the Irish first floor and so on.
houseman: Medical or surgical intern. In the 1930s and ’60s, used regardless of the sex of the young doctor.
how’s about ye?: Ulster. How are you?
hurler: One playing the game of hurling, a fifteen-a-side ball (sliotar) game played with a curved stick, hurley (camán) and said to be the fastest team game played on dry land. The women’s version is camogie.
Irish Free State: In 1922, after the Irish war of independence twenty-six counties were granted Dominion status within the British Empire and were semiautonomous. This entity was the Irish Free State, later to become the independent Republic of Ireland.
Jack/Culchie: Dublin. The inhabitants of Ireland are divided between those who live in Dublin, “Jacks” or “Jackeens,” sophisticated city dwellers, and those who live outside the city, “Culchies,” rural rubes. Both terms now are usually applied in jest and “Jack” has been superseded by “Dub.”
jacked: Dublin. Exhausted.
jag: Jab. Usually with the needle of a hypodermic syringe.
jammy: Ridiculously lucky.
jam piece: See “piece”. Slice of bread and jam or jam sandwich.
jar: Alcoholic drink.
John Bull top hat: A top hat with a very low crown as depicted in cartoons of the British personified. John Bull is to Great Britain as Uncle Sam is to the USA. Popular headgear for ladies hunting and Winston Churchill before World War I.
joking me: Teasing me.
kipper: A herring which has been split, gutted, rubbed with salt, and cured with smoke, preferably from oak shavings.
kippered: Physically destroyed.
knackered: Very tired. An allusion to a horse so worn out by work that it is destined for the knacker’s yard, where horses are destroyed.
knickers: Women’s underpants.
knickers in a twist: In a highly excited state.
Lambeg drum: Ulster. Massive bass drum carried on shoulder straps by Orangemen, and beaten with two sticks (sometimes until the drummer’s wrists bleed).
let the hare sit: Leave the matter alone.
lift: A ride, or when used as a verb, to arrest.
liltie/y: Irish whirling dervish.
linnet: A small passerine bird of the finch family. Much prized for its song of fast trills and twitters and popular as a caged pet.
list (surgical): Operating slate. The names of patients and the procedures they will be having, put down in the order in which they will be performed.
lord/lady muck from clabber hill: Someone with a grossly inflated opinion of their own importance with a tendency to putting on airs and graces.
lorry: Truck.
lose the bap: A bap is a small round loaf and is used as a synonym for “head.” To lose it is to become violently angry.
lough: Pronounced “lockh,” as if clearing one’s throat. A sea inlet or large inland lake.
lug (thick as a bull’s): Dublin. Ear. (Very “thick,” stupid.)
lummox: Big, stupid creature.
lurcher: Crossbred collie/greyhound. Frequently used by poachers.
marbles in the mouth: Speak with a very upper-class accent.
marmalise: Dublin. Cause great physical damage and pain.
masher: Woman chaser (archaic).
measurements: All measurements in ’30s Ireland were imperial. Of those mentioned here one stone = fourteen pounds, 20 fluid ounces =one pint, one ounce = 437.5 grains. It can be seen that 1/150th of a grain was a very tiny dose and required extreme accuracy in measuring.
medals: The system of medals in the British Army was with one exception divided along class lines. Officers of the rank of major or equivalent or above might win the DSO, distinguished service order. Whereas any officer might win the MC, military cross; enlisted men, noncommissioned officers, and privates would receive the MM, military medal for deeds of equal bravery. The highest award for valour, akin to the congressional medal of honour, the VC, Victoria cross, was available to all ranks.
midder: Colloquial term for midwifery, the art and science of dealing with pregnancy and childbirth, now superseded medically by the term “obstetrics.”
mind: Remember.
more power to your wheel: Words of encouragement akin to “The very best of luck.”
mot/tt: Dublin. Girlfriend. Wife. Girl. Made famous in an eighteenth-century street song composed by blind Zozimus, “The Twangman’s [toffee maker’s] Mott.”
mountain dew: Illegally distilled spirits.
much use as a lighthouse in a peat bog: Useless.
not work to warm himself: Dublin. Bone idle.
och: Emotive multipurpose exclamation that can express anything from frustration, “Och, blether,” to admiration, “Och, isn’t the babby a wee dote?”
off your face: Dublin. Drunk.
on the lash: Dublin. A serious drinking session.
on the pour: Of Guinness. Unlike other beers, a good pint of Guinness requires skill in its preparation. Drawing one from the barrels or pump can take several minutes. One in the process of being prepared is said to be “on the pour.”
operating theatre: Operating room.
OTC: Officers Training Corps. ROTC in America.
oul hand: Ulster. Old friend. “How’s about you, Captain Hook, oul hand?”
oul ones: Old ones, usually grandparents or spouse.
Paddywhackery: Exaggerated pseudo-Irishness.
pay your shout: Buy your round of drinks.
Peeler: Policeman. Named for the founder of the first organised police force in Great Britain, Sir Robert Peel, 1788–1846. These officers were known as “Bobbies” in England and “Peelers” in I
reland.
people’s bank: Dublin. Pawnbroker.
piece: Slice of bread or sandwich, usually qualified by its condiment. See “jam piece.”
Pioneer: Member of a temperance organisation who will have taken “the pledge” at thirteen to abstain from alcohol.
pissed as a newt: Very drunk.
pladdy/ie: Ulster. Low wrack-covered reef usually only exposed at low tide.
planking it: Dublin. Extremely worried.
play gooseberry: Be an unwanted third at a lovers’ tryst.
ploughed: Of an exam. Failed.
po-faced: Literally having a face like a bedroom chamber pot (po). Miserable looking.
poilu: French. Literally “hairy.” Term of affection for First World War private soldiers. British, Tommy. American, Doughboy.
poitín: Pronounced “potcheen.” Moonshine. Illegally distilled spirits, usually from barley. Could be as strong as 180 proof (about 100 percent alcohol by volume).
pork fillet: Pork tenderloin.
porter: A dark beer. It was brewed by Guinness until 1974 when it was replaced by its stronger relation, stout, which rather than being brewed from dark malts uses roasted malted barley called “patent malt.”
poulticed: Pregnant, often out of wedlock.
power or powerful: Very strong or a lot. “That’s a powerful smell of stout in there” or “Them pills? They done our Sally a power of good.”
public school: Fee-paying private school.
purler: Heavy fall.
put in his box: Taken down a peg or two. Humbled by being humiliated.
put the heart sideways into: Dublin. Terrify.
quality: Upper classes.
quare: Queer. Used to mean very, strange, or exceptional. “He’s quare and stupid,” or “She’s gone quare in the head.”
quare soft hand under a duck: To be skilled or gentle.
rag order: Dublin. Clothes in disarray.
Raidió Éireann: Irish State radio network.
rare as hens’ teeth: Very rare indeed.
rashers: Bacon slices from the back of the pig. They have a streaky tail and a lean eye.
ray: A flat cartilagenous fish of the order Batoidei, related to sharks. Prized for fish-and-chips because it is boneless.
rear up: Dublin. Become very annoyed and show it.
RFA: Royal Field Artillery.
rickets, near taking the: Ulster. Nothing to do with the vitamin D deficiency disease, but an expression of having had a great surprise or shock.
right: Very. “She’s a right decent one.”
rook (n): Corvus frugilegus is a black bird like a crow of the family Corvidae.
rook (v): Ulster. To cheat out of money, often all a victim possessed. “That card sharp rooked our Willie.”
rookery: Term for tenement accommodation.
Saint John Ambulance Brigade: A charitable organisation dedicated to teaching and providing first aid. In Ireland it is not closely associated with the Venerable Order of Saint John.
Saint Vincent de Paul: An international Catholic organisation dedicted to fighting poverty and operational in Ireland since the mid-1800s. Their work in the tenements cannot be lauded sufficiently.
scared skinny: Terrified.
scuppered: Put an end to.
scuttered: Drunk.
segotia (me oul’): Dublin. My old friend. Now so overused as to be almost as clichéd as “begorrah” and “bejapers,” but used tongue in cheek as self-parody.
shebeen: Irish sibín. Illegal drinking den.
shite/shit: “Shite” is the noun. “He’s a right shite,” “shit” the verb, “I near shit a brick.”
shout (my, his): Turn to pay for a round of drinks.
Sinn Fein: Irish. Pronounced “Shin Fayn.” Literally “We ourselves.” Irish political movement founded in 1905 by Arthur Griffith to support Irish Nationalism. (A Sinn Feiner is a member of the organisation.)
skew whiff: Ulster. Out of kilter (alignment).
skinful: Drunk.
skirting board: Narrow wooden strips at the base of a wall perpendicular to the floor.
slagging: Hurling of verbal abuse which can either be good-natured banter, such as “It was gas. We had a quare oul slagging match,” or verbal chastisement, “Because I forgot to bring the beer home she really slagged me off.”
Sláinte: Irish. Pronounced “Slawntuh.” Cheers. Here’s mud in your eye. Prosit.
snaffle: A kind of bridle bit, or to steal.
snapper: Dublin. Baby.
sodger man: Soldier.
sorry for your troubles: You have my deepest sympathy.
sound: Terrific. “Your horse won.” “Sound.”
sound man: Trustworthy, reliable, admirable. “The bookie paid up?” “Och, aye. He’s a sound man.”
spavined: Like a sway-backed horse.
squaddy: British Army slang for private soldier whose smallest tactical unit was the squad. In the U.S., the term would be “grunt.”
steamboats: Drunk.
sticking plaster: Medical adhesive tape.
sting: Hurt.
stocious: Drunk.
stone: See “measurements.”
stop the lights: Dublin. Expression of utter disbelief. “You won an Olympic medal? Stop the feckin’ lights.”
stunned as a cow looking over a whitewashed wall: Looking really amazed, and possibly muttering, “Stop the lights.”
subaltern: Officer in the British Army below the rank of major.
surgery: Where a GP saw ambulatory patients. In the U.S., it’s the doctor’s “office.” Specialists worked in “rooms.”
sweet Fanny Adams: Verbalisation of acronym SFA. Nothing.
take the light from your eyes: Overwhelm, often by surprise and usually in a positive way. “See the diamond yer man give our Sally last night? It fair took the light from her eyes.”
tanner: Sixpence. Worth about ten cents.
tea: An infusion made by pouring boiling water over Camellia sinensis, or the main evening meal. “I had a great steak for my tea.”
terrace: Row housing, but not just for the working class. Some of the most expensive accommodations in Dublin are terraces in Merrion Square, akin to the condos on New York’s Park Avenue.
there now: Now or very recently.
thon/thonder: That or there. “Thon eejit shouldn’t be standing over thonder.”
thruppence: Three pennies. Worth about five cents.
tightener: Very satisfying meal.
titles: In earlier times and in a more class-conscious world, titles were important. In lay society male commoners were Mister, females were Mrs. if married or widowed, and Miss if not. Better-class male children were Master. In medicine and nursing, matters were confusing. The title “Doctor” pertained to anyone who had qualified in medicine, even though in Ireland the medical degree was a bachelor’s of medicine. Only medically qualified people and those holding nonmedical doctoral degrees could use this appellation. Specialist internists, in Ireland called “physicians,” retained the “Doctor.” Surgeons, once they had been admitted to a Royal College, reverted to the title “Mister.” The historical reason would take too long to explain. Senior nurses in charge of wards (the old charge nurse, now nursing manager or nursing team leader) was called “Sister.” It dated from the time when nurses were in holy orders, but in most hospitals the sisters, like Kitty O’Hallorhan, were not nuns.
toffee nosed: Stuck up.
true on you: Dublin. You are absolutely right.
try: Touchdown at rugby football. Was worth three points, now five.
uncle: Dublin. Pawnbroker.
up the builder’s: Pregnant. Often out of wedlock.
urchins: Street kids, usually preteen.
walking out: Going steady.
wean: Pronounced “wane.” Child.
wee buns: Ulster. Very easy.
wee man, the: The devil.
wee taste: Ulster. Small amount, and not necessarily of food. “Th
at axle needs a wee taste of oil.”
well mended: Healed properly.
wetting the baby’s head: Taking a drink (or several) to celebrate a birth.
wheen: Ulster. An indeterminate number. “How many miles is it to the nearest star?” “Dunno, but it must be a brave wheen.”
whin: Gorse or furze, a spiny shrub.
whole shebang: Lock, stock, and barrel.
WREN: Acronym derived from the initial letters of the Women’s Royal Navy. Akin to WAAF or WAVE.
ye: You, singular or plural.
yiz: You, singular or plural.
you’re joking me: You are pulling my leg. You’re not serious.
youngwans: Dublin. Young ones, usually unmarried.
your man: Someone either whose name is not known, “Your man over there? Who is he?” or someone known to all, “Your man, Van Morrison.” (Also, “I’m your man” as in “I agree and will go along with whatever you are proposing.”)
youse: You, singular or plural.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Like book four, An Irish Country Girl, this, the sixth book in the Irish Country series, is a departure from what for many readers will be the familiar rural Ballybucklebo and the eccentric population of the village. So why leave and how did A Dublin Student Doctor, a book set in cosmopolitan Dublin in the 1930s, come about?
Just as a constant gnawing in my mind led to the story of Mrs. Maureen “Kinky” Kincaid in Country Girl, so did a subconscious grumbling drive me to ask what forces shaped Doctor Fingal Flahertie O’Reilly. How did his early life turn him into the man he had become by the mid-’60s in Ballybucklebo?
In An Irish Country Doctor the Fingal Flahertie O’Reilly my readers know sprang to life fully formed like Athena from the head of Zeus, his physical character and his personality firm. But what of his past? I had decided that this book would start after Fingal, aged eighteen, left his public boarding school, an institution where his parents would have paid his fees, and follow his undergraduate days from 1931 to ’36, the intervening years in Dublin, his assistantship in Ballybucklebo, and finally his Royal Naval service up to the time of his postwar demobilisation as Surgeon-Commander O’Reilly DSC, and his purchase of the practice in Ballybucklebo in 1946.
But by the point in the story when O’Reilly’s medical studies still had one year to go, it was clear that the account of Fingal’s war years, critical as they were in his life, would have to wait. I hope you will find his doings in ’30s Dublin entertaining. His naval adventures will need a book of their own.
A Dublin Student Doctor Page 43
