Word of the Day

Togated “clad in a toga” comes by way of Latin togātus, of the same meaning, from toga, the one-piece robe-like garment that typifies the people of the Roman Empire. Toga belongs to a family of Latin words spelled variously as tect-, teg-, and tog- that all pertain to covering, such as through clothing or architecture. To see this family of words in action, compare integument, a technical term for the skin; protect, from Latin tegere (stem tect-) “to cover”; and even tile, derived by way of Old English from Latin tēgula “roof-tile.” As we learned from the recent Word of the Day cordiform, according to a rule known as Grimm’s law, Latin t often corresponds to English th, and if you want to find a cognate of togated in English, look no further than thatch “a material for covering roofs.” Togated was first recorded in English in the early 17th century.

Acequia “irrigation ditch” is a borrowing of a Spanish term derived from Arabic as-sāqiyah, an assimilated form of al-sāqiyah “the irrigation ditch.” Al- is the Arabic equivalent of the article the, and a special feature of al- is that it assimilates to match the first consonant of the word that follows under certain circumstances. The l sound is pronounced with the tip of the tongue, and when the word that follows al- begins with a similarly pronounced consonant (such as d, n, or s), the l in al- changes to match. In Arabic words that were adopted by Portuguese or Spanish and then adopted into English, the al- article exists today, albeit in disguise merely as a-, in words such as acequia, adobe, and even tuna (a corruption of Spanish atún). However, the full al- form is still visible in words that did not start with a tip-of-the-tongue consonant, such as albacore, alcohol, alcove, and alfalfa. Acequia was first recorded in English circa 1840.

Jovial “characterized by a hearty, joyous humor” comes from Medieval Latin joviālis “of Jupiter”; the planets were once thought to influence human emotion, and just as Saturn was associated with a low mood (compare saturnine), Jupiter was associated with happiness. While Iuppiter was the Latin form of the name Jupiter when used as the subject of a sentence, its stem was Iovi-, which survives in English today as Jove, an alternative English name for Jupiter the god. Though the god’s name in older Latin was Iovis, in classical Latin, the compound name Iuppiter “father Jove” (based on pater “father”) took the place of Iovis as part of a process called suppletion, as we learned about recently in the etymology of the Word of the Day laisser-aller. Jovial was first recorded in English in the 1580s.

Descry “to see by looking carefully” may look and sound like describe, but the two are not related. While describe comes from Latin scrībere “to write,” descry and the related verb decry both come from Old French crier “to cry,” the source of English cry. From here, there are at least four hypotheses regarding the origin of crier. The traditional story is that crier ultimately comes from the Latin verb quirītāre “to cry out in protest,” a verb said to be related to the noun Quirītēs “citizens of Rome,” though this connection may be folk etymology and therefore based on mere coincidence. Some sources allege that quirītāre is instead a frequentative form of the verb querī “to complain” (the source of quarrel and querulous), while others connect quirītāre to quirrītāre “to grunt (as a boar).” However, Latin may not be involved at all; crier could derive instead from a Frankish source cognate to Dutch krijten “to cry” and German kreischen “to shriek.” Descry was first recorded in English in the late 13th century.

Andiron “one of a pair of metal stands for holding logs in a fireplace” may be a common noun, but its history is anything but typical. Andiron derives by way of Anglo-French from Old French andier, with a change in spelling and pronunciation because of an association with the unrelated English noun iron. Prior to Old French, the history of andiron is unclear; the most frequently appearing hypothesis is a derivation from Gaulish anderos “young animal,” after the use of decorative animal heads on andirons, but this connection remains unproven. If the link is valid, andiron is a distant cognate with the words for “bull” and “heifer” in several modern Celtic languages, such as Breton and Welsh. Andiron was first recorded in English in the late 13th century.