Ever wondered where we got the name Thrappledouser from? It was very simple really. We took the Scots’ word for throat and wove it with a term for slaking or dousing your thirst. I suppose a straight translation into English would be thirst quencher.
Most people in Scotland use the Scots’ language every day of our lives, often subconsciously. It is a wonderfully descriptive language. Scholars would probably call it very onomatopoetic. In other words, Scots’ words sound like the terms or actions they are describing: think of driech, drookit, stramash, stooshie, etc. Words for wet weather and fighting seem to be popular for some reason!
However, it is our poets who really bring the Scots’ language to life, as this extract from ‘Daft Days’ by Ayrshire poet Hew Ainslie (1792 – 1878). Hew emigrated to America in 1822 and became a partner in a Cincinnati brewery.
The midnight hour is clinking, lads,
An' the douce an' the decent are winking, lads;
Sae I tell ye again,
Be't weel or ill ta'en,
It's time ye were quatting your drinking, lads.
Gae ben, 'an mind your gauntry, Kate,
Gi'es mair o' your beer, an' less bantry, Kate,
For we vow, whaur we sit,
That afore we shall flit,
We'se be better acquaint wi' your pantry, Kate.
The "daft days" are but beginning, Kate.
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