A Word In Your Shell-Like. Nigel Rees
tells of a whole series of ‘Skylark’ vessels run by a certain Jake Bolson at that seaside resort from 1914 to 1947. There is, however, a much earlier source. A researcher at the Brighton Fishing Museum disclosed that a boat owner/skipper of those parts called Captain Fred Collins had owned many ‘Skylarks’ in his career. As he died in 1912, Collins was clearly ahead of the Bournemouth boats. Indeed, the Brighton Gazette had mentioned a ‘new pleasure yacht, “The Skylark”’ arriving from the builders in May 1852. The Gazette’s earliest citation of the actual phrase ‘Any more for the Skylark’ occurs in the edition of 17 November 1928 (in an article concerning Joseph Pierce, who took over from Collins). This does not explain how the phrase caught on beyond Brighton (perhaps through a song or stage-show sketch?) The edition of 8 May 1948 placed it among other pleasure boat cries: ‘Brighton’s fishermen…will take their boats down to the sea and the summer season chorus of “Any more for the Skylark,” “Half-way to China,” “Motor boat going” and “Lovely ride out” will start again.’ A variation, all aboard the Skylark!, was apparently popularized by Noah and Nelly, an animated British TV children’s programme of the mid-1970s.
(is there/have you) any more, Mrs Moore? Elaborations of ‘any more?’, from the British music-hall song ‘Don’t Have Any More, Mrs Moore!’ – written by Castling & Walsh (early 1900s) and performed by Lily Morris.
anyone for tennis? This perkily expressed inquiry from a character entering through French windows and carrying a tennis racquet has become established as typical of the ‘teacup’ theatre of the 1920s and 30s (as also in the forms who’s for tennis? and tennis, anyone?). A clear example of it being used has proved elusive, however, although there are many near misses. The opening lines of Part II of Strindberg’s Dance of Death (1901) are (in translation): ‘Why don’t you come and play tennis?’ A very near miss occurs in the first act of Shaw’s Misalliance (1910) in which a character asks: ‘Anybody on for a game of tennis?’ Teddie in Somerset Maugham’s The Circle (1921) always seems on the verge of saying it, but only manages, ‘I say, what about this tennis?’ Myra in Noël Coward’s Hay Fever (1925) says, ‘What a pity it’s raining, we might have had some tennis.’ Perhaps it is just another of those phrases that was never actually said in the form popularly remembered. Unfortunately, a terrible wild-goose chase was launched by Jonah Ruddy and Jonathan Hill in their book Bogey: The Man, The Actor, The Legend (1965). Describing Humphrey Bogart’s early career as a stage actor (circa 1921) they said: ‘In those early Broadway days he didn’t play menace parts. “I always made my entrance carrying a tennis racquet, baseball bat, or golf club. I was the athletic type, with hair slicked back and wrapped in a blazer. The only line I didn’t say was, ‘Give me the ball, coach, I’ll take it through.’ Yes, sir, I was Joe College or Joe Country Club all the time.” It was hard to imagine him as the originator of that famous theatrical line – “Tennis anyone?” – but he was.’ It is clear from this extract that the authors were merely adding their own gloss to what Bogart had said. Bartlett (1968) joined in and said it was his ‘sole line in his first play’. But Bogart (who died in 1957) had already denied ever saying it (quoted in Goodman, Bogey: The Good-Bad Boy and in an ABC TV documentary of 1974 using old film of him doing so). Alistair Cooke in Six Men (1977) is more cautious: ‘It is said he appeared in an ascot and blue blazer and tossed off the invitation Tennis, anyone?’ – and adds that Bogart probably did not coin the phrase. In British show business, it has been suggested that Leon Quatermaine, a leading man of the 1920s and 30s, was the first man to say it. In the form ‘Anyone for tennis?’ the phrase was used by J. B. Priestley as the title of a 1968 television play, and in 1981 it was converted into Anyone for Denis? by John Wells as the title of a farce guying Margaret Thatcher’s husband.
anyone we know? Originally, a straightforward request for information when told, say, that someone you know is getting married and you want to know to whom. Then it became a playful catchphrase: ‘She’s going to have a baby’ – ‘Who’s the father – anyone we know?’ The joke use certainly existed in the 1930s. In the film The Gay Divorcee (US 1934), Ginger Rogers states: ‘A man tore my dress off.’ A woman friend asks: ‘Anyone we know?’ ‘The moment from which many of us date the genre was when the curtain rose on a production by Harry Kupfer in the late 1970s – I think of a work by Richard Strauss – to reveal a set dominated by a huge phallus, occasioning, from one male in the stalls to his gentleman friend, the loud whisper: “Anyone we know, duckie?”’ – The Times (17 May 1986).
any one who…can’t be all bad Format phrase suggesting that something about which doubt has been expressed is really rather good. Perhaps the original is what Leo Rosten said about W. C. Fields (and not, as is sometimes reported, what Fields himself said of another): ‘Any man who hates children and dogs can’t be all bad’ (or ‘Anybody who hates dogs and babies can’t be all bad’). This was at a Masquers’ Club dinner (16 February 1939). Subsequently: ‘Anyone with a name like Hitler can’t be all that bad’ – Spike Milligan, The Last Goon Show of All (1972); ‘All the same, Garland and Rooney as Babes In Arms…plus long-lost tracks from Band Wagon and Good News and Brigadoon and It’s Always Fair Weather, can’t be all bad’ – Sheridan Morley in Theatreprint, Vol. 5, No. 95 (May 1995).
any port in a storm Meaning, metaphorically, ‘any roof over your head is better than none’ or ‘you can’t be choosy about shelter in adversity’. The phrase makes an early appearance in John Cleland’s Fanny Hill (1749): ‘I feeling pretty sensibly that it [her lover’s member] was going by the right door, and knocking desperately at the wrong one, I told him of it: “Pooh, says he, my dear, any port in a storm”.’
anything can happen and probably will The standard opening announcement of the BBC radio show Take It From Here (1948–59) was that it was a comedy programme ‘in which anything can happen and probably will.’ The show was based on literate scripts by Frank Muir (1920–98) and Denis Norden (b. 1922) and featured Jimmy Edwards (1920–88), Dick Bentley (1907–95) and June Whitfield (b. 1926) (who succeeded Joy Nichols).
anything for a laugh Casual reason given for doing something a little out of the ordinary, since the 1930s. P. G. Wodehouse, Laughing Gas (1936): ‘“Anything for a laugh” is your motto.’ In the 1980s it was combined with the similar phrases good for a laugh (itself used as the title of a book by Bennett Cerf in 1952) and game for anything to produce the title of the British TV show Game For a Laugh (1981–5). This consisted of various stunts and had elements of Candid Camera as it persuaded members of the public to take part in stunts both in and out of the studio. The title was much repeated by the presenters of the show, as in ‘Let’s see if so-and-so is game for a laugh…’
anything for a quiet life The Jacobean playwright Thomas Heywood used this proverbial phrase in his play Captives, Act 3, Sc. 3 (1624), but Thomas Middleton had actually entitled a play Anything For a Quiet Life (possibly written with John Webster) in about 1620. Swift included the phrase in Polite Conversation (1738) and Dickens incorporated it as a Wellerism in The Pickwick Papers, Chap. 43 (1837): ‘But anythin’ for a quiet life, as the man said wen he took the sitivation at the lighthouse.’
anything goes! Meaning, ‘there are no rules and restrictions here, you can do whatever you like.’ Popularized by the song and musical show with the title written by Cole Porter (1934). Compare the much older this is/it’s Liberty Hall, which was probably coined by Oliver Goldsmith in She Stoops To Conquer, Act 2 (1773): ‘This is Liberty-hall, gentlemen. You may do just as you please.’ W. W. Reade wrote a book with the title Liberty Hall (1860).
anything you say may be taken down and used in evidence against you The police ‘caution’ to a person who may be charged with a crime has had various forms in the UK. The version you might expect from reading fiction would go something like: ‘You are not obliged to say anything unless you wish