Authors: H.L. Mencken
American Language (85 page)
In the case of certain strong verbs, says Menner, the substitution of the perfect participle for the preterite originated in a confusion between the singular and plural forms of the preterite, which were once distinct. When this distinction began to disappear, the plural preterite, usually with
u
for its vowel, was sometimes substituted for the singular form in
a
, and so the preterite and the perfect participle coalesced, for the latter was usually also in
u
.
94
Menner offers
begun, clumb, rung, sung
and
swum
as examples. Two further considerations may be mentioned. The first is that the perfect form of the verb was also commonly its adjectival form, and so got some support in mere familiarity. The second is that it was usually the authentic preterite in the passive voice, and so got more.
The contrary substitution of the preterite for the perfect participle is old in English, and there was a time indeed when even the best writers were apparently unconscious of its inelegance. An examination of any play of Shakespeare’s will show many such forms
as “I have
wrote
,” “I am
mistook
” and “He has
rode
.” In several cases this confusion has survived. “I have
stood
,” for example, is now perfectly correct English, but before 1550 the proper form was “I have
stonden
” Menner’s inquiries indicate, however, that two of the false perfects now familiar,
saw
and
did
, are relatively recent. He says:
Many writers employ
seen
as preterite from the 40’s to the 60’s, whereas
saw
as past participle is extremely rare. The earliest instance I have run across is in Artemus Ward’s “Scenes Outside the Fair-Grounds”: “We have
saw
a entertainment as we never saw before,” and Josh Billings seems to have been the first humorist to employ
saw
for
seen
, as well as
did
for
done
, extensively. Even as late as “Huckleberry Finn,” where
seen
and
see
largely replace
saw
in the past tense,
saw
does not occur in the participle. The priority of the incorrect preterite over the incorrect participle is likewise plain in the verb
do
, though
done
had not attained so wide a popularity in the first half of the century as
seen
. The remarks of grammarians and commentators on the state of the language corroborate the practise of the humorists as an accurate reflection of the vulgar speech. Bartlett, whose dictionary of Americanisms was published in 1848, and Schele de Vere, whose similar book was published in 1872, record only the use of the participle for the preterite in these verbs.… The oldest commentary on Americanisms, John Witherspoon’s essays, originally printed in … 1781, notes
he had fell, he had rose, he had threw, he had drew
, but not
he had saw
or
he had did
.
95
The substitution of the preterite for the perfect participle seems to me to be increasing of late, and such striking examples as “How old of a cat have you ever
saw?
”
96
are surely not uncommon. But a sense of its uncouthness appears to linger at the back of the proletarian mind, and sometimes it is embellished with an
en
suffix, and so brought into greater harmony with more orthodox forms of the perfect. I find that
boughten
, just discussed, is used much oftener in the perfect than in the simple past tense; for the latter
bought
usually suffices. The quick ear of Lardner detects various other coinages of the same sort, among them
tooken
, as in “little Al might of
tooken sick” Hadden
is also met with, as in “I would of
hadden
” But the majority of preterites remain unchanged. Lardner’s baseball player never writes “I have
written
” or “I have
wroten
,” but always “I have
wrote.
” And in the same way he always writes “I have
did, ate, went, drank, rode, ran, saw, sang, woke
and
stole.
”
In the American vulgate, as Menner notes, the auxiliary
have
is under heavy pressure in all situations, and promises to disappear
from those in which it is still used. I have heard
was
used in place of have, as in “before the Elks
was
come here.”
97
Sometimes it is confused ignorantly with a distinct
of
, as in “she would
of
drove” and “I would
of
gave.”
98
More often it is shaded to a sort of particle attached to the verb as an inflection, as in “He
woulda
tole you,” “Who
coulda
took it?,” “He
musta
been there.” In going through this change it drags its surrogate,
of
, along with it, and so one encounters such forms as
kinda, sorta, coupla
and
outa.
99
But that is not all. Having degenerated to
of, have
is now employed as a sort of auxiliary to itself, in the subjunctive, as in “If you had
of
went,” “If it had
of
been hard” and “If I had
of
had.”
100
I have encountered some rather astonishing examples of this doubling of the auxiliary. One appears in “I wouldn’t
hadda
went”; another in “I’d ’a’
hadda
saved more money.” Here, however, the
a
may belong partly to
had
and partly to the verb; such forms as
a-going
are very common in American. But in the other cases, and in such forms as “I
hadda
wanted,” it clearly belongs to
had
. Meanwhile,
to have
, ceasing to be an auxiliary, becomes a general verb indicating compulsion. Here it promises to displace
must
. The American seldom says “I
must
go”; he almost invariably says “I
have
to go”
101
or “I
have got
to go,” in which last case
got
is the auxiliary.
Some typical inflections of the verb for mode and voice are shown in the following paradigm of
to bite:
The subjunctive, which is disappearing from Standard American,
102
is virtually extinct in the vulgar tongue. One never hears “if I
were
you,” but always “if I
was
you.” In the third person the
-s
is not dropped from the verb. One hears, not “if she
go
,” but always “if she
goes.
” “If he
be
the man” is never heard; it is always “if he
is.
” Such a sentence as “Had I wished her, I had had her” would be unintelligible to most Americans; even “I had rather” is forgotten. In the same way the distinction between
will
and
shall
, preserved in Standard English but already breaking down in the most correct American, has been lost entirely.
Will
has displaced
shall
completely, save in the imperative. This preference extends to the inflections of both.
Sha’n’t
is very seldom heard; almost always
won’t
is used instead. As for
should
, it is displaced by
ought to
(degenerated to
oughter
or
oughta
), and in its negative form by
hadn’t oughter
, as in “He
hadn’t oughter
said that,” reported by Charters. Lardner gives various redundant combinations of
should
and
ought
, as in “I don’t feel as if I
should ought
to leave” and “They
should not ought to of
had.” I have encountered the same form, but I don’t think it is as common as the simple
oughta
forms.
103
In the main,
should
is avoided, sometimes at considerable pains. Often its place is taken by the more positive
don’t
. Thus “I
don’t
mind” is used instead of “I
shouldn’t
mind.”
Ain’t
has displaced
is not, am not, isn’t
and
aren’t
, and even
have not
and
haven’t
. One recalls a famous speech in a naval melodrama of a generation ago: “We
ain’t
got no manners, but we can fight like hell.” Such forms as “He
ain’t
here,” “I
ain’t
the man,” “
Ain’t
it the truth?”, “You been there,
ain’t
you?”, “You
ain’t
drank much,” “Them
ain’t
what I want” and “I
ain’t
heerd of it” are common. Charters adds the incomparable “It
ain’t
right to say, ‘He
ain’t
here today.’ ”
In the negative a clear
not
is used only for special emphasis, as in “You will
not
do it.” In almost all other situations it is reduced to
n’t
, and sometimes this
n’t
, in rapid utterance, shrinks to
n
or is dropped altogether. Says Dr. E. C. Hills of the University of California:
Usually before a consonant, and regularly before a dental,
not
becomes merely vocalic
n
, as in “I
didn’
(t) do it,” “We
couldn
’(
t
) stop,” and “He
hasn’
(t) gone.” With
can
, in rapid fluent speech uttered without self-consciousness,
not
before a consonant tends to disappear completely, so that “I
c’n
do it” is affirmative, while the negative form is “I
can
’(
t
) do it.” Some of my friends who are not trained phoneticians insist that they pronounce the
t
in “I
can’
(t) do it,” but when they are off their guard I do not hear the
t
. Moreover, when they say “I
can’
(t) do it,” or even “I
can’
(t) go tonight,” without pronouncing the
t
, my friends regularly understand the expression to be negative. If one pronounces the
can
with emphasis and followed perhaps by a slight pause, “I
can
go tonight” is affirmative. In combination with the
y
of
you, nt
becomes
nch
as in “
Haven’t you
seen it?” “
Didn’t you
do it?” This change, however, does not occur before the initial
y
of a verb, as in “He
didn’
(t) yell,” in which the
t
is usually not pronounced at all.
104
Dr. Hills, of course, is here discussing a colloquial American lying somewhere between the vulgate and the standard speech, but what he says applies to the vulgate. He should have added that when
can
is used in the negative it takes the
a
of its mother,
can’t
(and also of
pan, stand
, etc.), not the shorter
a
of
ran
, etc. Thus there is a phonetic difference between affirmative
can
and negative
can
, though they must be written alike. The
nch
-sound that Dr. Hill mentions has attracted the attention of the begetters of comic-strips. They frequently use
can cha
for
can’t you
. When
to do
is used in the negative, the form is almost invariably
don’t; doesn’t
is seldom heard. Among Southerners this use of the plural for the singular rises almost to the level of cultured speech. When, a few years ago, a fresh effort to police the national speech habits was begun at Columbia University, the editor of the Petersburg, Va.,
Progress-Index
replied as follows:
One of the expressions listed in the indictment of the savants is
he don’t
, a contraction, of course, of
he does not
. Here in Virginia many men of the highest education use the phrase habitually. Their ancestors have used it for many generations, and it might be argued with some reason that when the best blood and the best brains of Virginia use an expression for so long a time it becomes correct, regardless of the protests of the professional grammarians.
105
According to Menner, the widespread use of the present for the preterite is relatively recent. “In almost all the comic writers of the first half of the [Nineteenth] Century,” he says,
gin
and
give
are
in rivalry as the preterites of
to give
, but in “Huckleberry Finn”
give
prevails. He suggests that its rise may be due to the fact that a number of common verbs showing the same vowel,
e.g., hit, quit
and
spit
, are unchanged in the preterite. Certainly it is a fact that such verbs are apparently rather more often put into the new historical present in the vulgate than those of any other class. Examples are
begin, sit
and
win
. But the other verbs seem to be going the same way, and the vulgar preterite of one of them,
sez, i.e., says
, appears to be older than
give
. Charters’s material offers many specimens, among them “We
help
distributed the fruit,” “She
recognize, hug
, and
kiss
him” and “Her father
ask
her if she intended doing what he
ask
”; and Lardner has “If Weaver and them had not of
begin
kicking” and “They would of
knock
down the fence.” I notice that
used
, in
used to be
, is almost always reduced to simple
use
, as in “It
use
to be the rule,” with the
s
very much like that of
hiss
. One seldom, if ever, hears a clear
d
at the end.
106
Here, of course, the elision of the
d
is due primarily to assimilation with the
t
of
to —
an example of one form of decay aiding another.
