That’s a pretty exaggerated statement.
The Mallard Song is sung in All Souls’ College, Oxford, two hundred and one times every century. It is sung once a year at the Bursar’s Dinner in March and the college’s Gaudy in November and also sung in a separate special ceremony once a century. The ceremony was last held in 2001, we are not going to see it in person ever.
Which is OK, it reads like a pretty silly ceremony.
At dinner the other day the question of the difference between lamb and mutton came up. Although I knew, and an ordinary understanding of the term “lamb” would suggest, that lamb is from a younger animal than mutton, lamb is less than one year old, mutton is at least three years old, and in between is hogget, a word I had never heard before (and incidentally, which Firefox spell check doesn’t recognize).
I realize this may not come as news to Brits and other furriners.
Speaking about animals and food, the difference between lamb/mutton and sheep, beef and cows, pork and pig, veal and calf and so on is that the one word with the Old English root (sheep, cow, pig and calf) was used by the aborigine Saxon farmers, that is, the peasants, who raised them for sale but could not afford them, and the French, i.e. Latin root (pork (porc), beef (beouf), mutton (mouton) and veal (veau)), was used by the haughty conquerors (like William), who ate them but would not touch them when still alive. When animals were in the stable or on the farm, they kept their Old English names: pig, cow, sheep and calf. But when they were cooked and brought to the table, an English version of the French word was used (pork, beef, mutton and veal).
It is a bit more complicated than this (think of venisson, chicken, turkey and fish), of course, it always is, but that is the gist of it.
This discussion of the language difference between domestic animals and food is in the opening chapter of Ivanhoe, a conversation between the swineherd and someone I forget now, as it’s been a good thirty years since I read it.
I read Ivanhoe as a child, ages ago, in Spanish. Now I wonder how they translated that part, as Spanish does not make that distinction, or whether the translator simply skipped it. The Editorial Bruguera, a big editor of children & youth literature, was infamous for the wanton abridging of classics of literature. All books ended up being about 200 pages long!
I’ve often noticed that pouring boiling-hot water sounds different from pouring room-temperature water. I wonder if this is why.
Similarly, I always felt that cold (above freezing) wet roads and highways were more slippery than warm ones, but I always assumed it was due to the pavement being a bit harder when it’s cold. I wonder if part of it is just the water itself being more viscous.
It’s a plausible theory. Afterall, the viscosity of engine oil matters: if it’s too low, it can’t keep moving engine parts separated from each other, so the same might be true for water viscosity and hydroplaning. However, room-temperature water viscosity is a closer match for ice-cold water than boiling water is (see plots on this page): compared to room-temperature water, ice water’s viscosity is only 70% higher.
I think a likely bigger factor is the stiffness of tire rubber at low temperatures. On clean and dry roads, I’ve noticed that my traction is lower at freezing temps than it is at summer temps, and I’m pretty sure the different stiffness of the tread compound at different temps is coming into play.
OK accepted. There’s always been smuggling, a bit risky if you were caught though.
As in Farmer Hogget in Babe
I think hogget is a British term.
Water near the point of freezing is gloppy. This is the first time I’ve used that description but I think that if you were to film a warm water balloon bursting versus one that held water near the freezing point, the description I am using would be perfectly clear. The difference is pretty amazing.
I come from (close to) sheep country and used to work in animal health.
Never hear the word. Sorry.
j
You are in the UK, I’m presuming? Well, never heard it in the US. A stumper.
I learned recently that in many (most?) modern semi tractors there is a lever on the steering column that brakes only the trailer brakes, so that if you start to fishtail or jackknife you can brake the trailer independently (and potentially accelerate in the tractor) to straighten everything out. You can also do this with pickup trailer brake controllers, and apparently it’s pretty much the only way to get a wayward trailer back in line…
I looked up “hogget” in the OED. It is indeed British, refers to yearling sheep of either sex; cites are from the 19th century. Common terminology in Australia and New Zealand. I’ve never heard it in the US.
I’ve heard “hogget” a British context as a culinary term. My great-grandmother was a Hogg, which surname is, I believe, related.
When I worked on a farm years ago the pickup truck had a hand-controlled brake for the trailer. I never understood why that was there.
Yeah. This farmer/butcher is based not far from where I grew up and clearly they use the word hogget:
Maybe it’s an old term that is coming back into use. Otherwise, I’m surprised I hadn’t heard it before.
j