The Competition

Oh Pliny! I said, surprised. You made a joke!

Yes, said Pliny, looking pleased with himself. I could not help myself.

Very funny, I said approvingly. By the way, did you know the Greeks thought Tuesday was unlucky, because the fall of Constantinople was on a Tuesday?

Yes, I did, said Pliny.

Don't you think that's a bit over the top? I asked.

It certainly is, he agreed. The Greeks are like that. The Spanish too. Did you know a Spaniard won't get married or begin a journey on a Tuesday?

Yes, I did know that, I said. We must have googled the same Tuesday.

Probably, said Pliny. Did you find anything different in Brewer's?

Brewer's isn't very good on Tuesday, I said. It just refers to Tiu, or Tiw, or Tyr, as the origin of the name, then suggests you look at Sunday.

Sunday? Is there a connection between Sunday and Tuesday.?

Only that it's a day of the week. I was quite disappointed in Brewer's.

Quite rightly. Its supposed to be 'a browser's delight'.

No Pliny, 'a browser's joy'. That's what it says on the back.

Oh yes, 'a browser's joy'. How could I forget? I used it in a competition recently.

What sort of competition?

It was a competition to win a packet of Fruchocs. You had to describe the taste of Fruchocs in three words. I just happened to be looking at the back of Brewer's Dictionary, where it says, 'A browser's joy!' and I thought, Here are three words! I shall adapt them and enter the competition!

And how did you adapt them, Pliny? And did you win?

My entry was: 'A sucker's joy'. And no, alas, I didn't.

Tiu

I don't like to be critical, said Pliny the Elder, but...

You're going to be, I said. Is it about Tuesday?

Yes, said Pliny. I thought you were going to tell us how it got its name, or some other interesting facts about Tuesday. Not that you thought it looked like a tree.

So did I, I admitted, but I really did think it looked like a tree.

In what way exactly? asked Pliny. TUES looks like branches to you, does it?

Yes, I said, just look at the letters. And imagine if they were printed in a sort of curve.

No, said Pliny. I can't see it.

Look! I said, getting out a piece of paper and a fish topped pencil and drawing the letters TUES as a curve. Then to prove my point, I drew the letters DAY coming down from a point in between the U and the E.

Oh yes, I see ! said Pliny. It does look somewhat arborial. However I still think you ought to have been less subjective. Did you not think to Google it, or look it up in Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase and Fable?

I thought everybody would already know how Tuesday got its name, I said.

They wouldn't, said Pliny. It's the one that hardly anybody knows. Do you know?

I do now, I said, I've just looked it up. And no, I didn't know before, although I thought I did.

What did you think you thought it was? asked Pliny looking interested.

Oh I never got that far, I answered. But anyway, now I know that it's named after Tiu the son of Odin. He had his hand bitten off when chaining up the wolf Fenrir, I added gratuitously.

Hence his name, said Pliny.

& Ampersand

Yes Pliny, but aren't all transformations unlikely? Nevertheless, I know that this is true.

And how, pray, do you know that it is true?

Because, Pliny, I read it , not in Wikipedia but in Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase and Fable.

Perhaps, then, it was a fable.

No, it is a phrase, which was found in the old hornbooks, I said primly. The character was added after the 26 letters of the alphabet, and was called ampersand as a corruption of 'and per se and'. The ampersand itself is an adaptation of 'et', which as you know means 'and' in Latin.

Nonsense, said Pliny. How do you get from 'et' to that squiggle?

You don't have to. You only need to get from the squiggle back to 'et'.

A good point. And what may I ask is a hornbook?

It's a thin board with a handle, as a backing to a sheet of vellum, and covered by a thin piece of transparent horn. Medieval schoolchildren used them for their lessons.

How delightful, said Pliny. Was anything else written in them?

Numbers, the Lords Prayer, and an exorcism.

Basic, and exemplary, said Pliny.