Your comments and questions:

---

Q: Ian asks: "What was the origin of the phrase ‘bite the bullet’?"  

A: It started with battlefield surgery before the inventi0on of anaesthetics. In those dark days the one skill a surgeon needed was to be very fast--for instance, to amputate the damaged leg before the patient died from shock. Unanaesthetised patients were given spirits to drink and then told to bite on something hard--such as a bullet. Hence 'bite the bullet' is a call to be stoical about something.

Q: John writes: ' what is the misanthropic principle, and how does it relate to the anthropic principle, which I understand concerns fine tuning, or the appearance of, in our universe? 

A: The 'anthropic principle' says that the observable properties of the universe, and particularly certain of the fundamental constants, seem to be designed to support intelligent life. In other words, we are here because this universe was designed to support us. However, the misanthropic principle is totally different. This is the view that the impact the human race has had on the environment of planet earth is entirely destructive and negative. 

Q: Bruce writes: 'With the gender folk today demanding no male titles for women – batter for a female cricketer -- it started me thinking about academic grades. I have a bachelor’s degree and a master’s degree – both names being masculine.  Should they be changed to "Spinster" and "Mistress"?'

A: It just points up the stupidity of being mistaken about what counts as 'gendered' language and what doesn't!

Q: Roger writes: 'As a long-time reader of your column and an ex-teacher of some 37 years duration can I say one of the reasons handwriting is now so poor these days is because (in my opinion!) kids are not taught how to hold a pen. When I went to school in 1946 and in the years after here in New Zealand we were taught to hold the pen or pencil between the thumb and index finger and resting on the hand between the two. The pen rested on the second finger and the arm on the desk rested on the large muscle under the forearm. This gave –in my opinion a good degree of control over the pen.'

A: All perfectly correct! These days I see youngsters holding pens in their fists not their fingers! 

Q: Stuart wants to know the correct pronunciation of 'divisive'?

A: The only correct pronunciation is duh-VIGH-siv. The alternative, duh-VIZ-iv, is always wrong.

Q: Malcom wants to know about the origin of the expression "It's like the curate's egg -- good in parts". 

A: It comes from a very old cartoon from Punch (early 20th century) in which a curate is having breakfast with his bishop, who asks 'How is your egg?' and since the curate has been stuck with an egg that has gone off, but doesn't want to offend his bishop, he replies, 'It's good in parts, my lord.' Of course, a rotten egg is rotten all the way through, so the phrase "curate's egg" really means 'bad all the way through' (although it has mistakenly been used to mean 'all right in bits' which it doesn't really mean). 

Q: Nathan writes: ' we often refer to something not working properly as being on the blink. Where did this term come from?'

A: 'On the blink' is American slang recorded from 1901. It originally referred to something that was in verge of break down completely. It was 'on the blink' in the sense that (metaphorically) its eyes were slowly closing. 

Q: Andrew writes to ask why Europe was once referred to as 'the Continent'? And is it true that Australians once called England 'home' even though they had been born here?

A: Europe was called the 'Continent from around 1600. It was done to emphasise Britain's advantage as an island nation with no shared land borders. I am told that this usage no longer exists. And, yes, Australians of an earlier generation did refer to Britain as 'home' (my own grandmother did) because until the Australian Citizenship; Act of 1948 the legal status of Australians was 'British subject.' Banjo Paterson, for example, always thought of himself as British.

Q: A Christmas question -- Frances wants to know why Christmas crackers are called 'bon bons' in Australia?

A: Christmas crackers were invented (under that name) by an English pastry cook named Tom Smith in 1846. He developed the idea from the practice of giving sweets in twists of coloured paper. And those sweets were (originally) called 'bon-bons.'  That name came directly from the French word for 'good' -- so a 'bon-bon' was something that was 'good-good' or in nursery language a 'goody.' So, it appears that 'Christmas cracker' and 'bon-bon' were interchangeable labels for these treats from the beginning.

Q: Sue wants to know the origin of the expression 'it gets my goat'.

A: It means to annoy or irritate someone and is recorded in America from around 1900. Although we can't be certain, it seems that it most likely comes from a time when it was common to put an animal (usually a goat) in the stall with a highly strung racehorse to keep the horse calm. In order to the noble the horse, a race fixer would steal the goat from the horse's stall. Supporting this theory is the earliest form of the expression, which was 'to get my nanny goat.' 

Q: Andrew wants to know where 'lickety-split' comes from.

A: Lickety-split is recorded from 1818 meaning 'very fast' or 'at full speed.' At about that time 'Lickety' started to be used to form adverbs -- always with the sense of 'rapidly.' As well as 'lickerty-spit' it was used in other formations (most of which have since died out) such as  lickety cut, lickety-smash, and lickety-wallop. It seems to have arisen from nothing more remarkable than the assumption that the action of licking is one that is usually rapid.  'Split' seems to have been added from the notion that the verb 'to split' meant the same thing as 'to cut' and this was seen as a rapid action. So, put two words together that both mean a rapid action, and it implies a VERY rapid action!

Q: Paul asks: 'Did Al Gore coin the expression "an inconvenient truth' or was it around before his time? And is there such a thing as a "convenient truth'? 

A:  "An Inconvenient Truth" appears to be a coinage by Al Gore for the title of his 2006 documentary.  Since then, "An Inconvenient Truth" has taken on a life of its own as a catch-all phrase for something obvious the people don't want to confront.  Unfortunately for Al Gore many of the claims he made in that movie have turned out to be works of complete fiction, and not the truth at all.  The catastrophic rises in ocean levels that he so confidently predicted have not happened. It appears that facts trump inconvenience all the time! And no, there is no common expression along the lines of a 'convenient truth.' 

Q: Jeremy writes: ' could you explain where the term "dark horse" came from?'

A: The word 'light' means (among other things) 'revelation' or 'knowledge.' When someone understands something, we say, 'the light went on' or 'he's seen the light.'  'Dark' means the opposite -- 'hidden' or 'concealed' as in 'he was keeping his plans dark' or 'we are being kept in the dark about this.' It was this meaning that was borrowed by horse racing. From 1821 it was used to describe a competitor about which nothing was known. A horse whose potential was unknown was called a 'dark horse.' Then ten years later in 1831 Benjamin Disraeli used the expression 'dark hose' in his novel The Young Duke and made the expression widely known and popular. By 1833 'dark horse' was being used metaphorically in US politics to mean a person not named as a candidate before a convention, who unexpectedly received the nomination.

Q: Barry writes to ask about the word 'populism' -- shouldn't it (he asks) mean exactly the same as 'democracy'?

A: Yes, Barry -- and in fact that this exactly what it does mean. Some are using 'populism' as a sneer word, without making it clear why they despise it.  If a leader (or a policy) is popular (that is, has the support of the majority of the populace, or 'demos') then it is populist, and that is how democracy is meant to work.  It seems to me that the sneering use of 'populism' as a complaint happens only when a person or a policy they disapprove of is endorsed democratically. The only honest use of 'populist' is as a synonym for 'democracy'. Either use it that way, or don't use it at all!

Q: Kristine asks about the expression 'doli incapax' being used in Victoria in debates about the age of legal responsivity.

A:  It is Latin (literally 'incapable of trickery') and is legal Latin to say a person is incapable of criminal deception (or activity). Commonly used of children or the mentally incapacitated. 

Q: Joe asks for the origin of 'humble pie' -- does it come from eating deer? Or from the notion of being humble?

A: Both of those played a role. Originally it was 'umble pie' -- a pie made from the 'umbles' of inner organs, the offal, of the deer. While nobility ate roast venison, their servants had 'umble pie.' This goes back to the 1600s. By the mid 1800s the expression became 'humble pie' (perhaps as a play on words, or perhaps the original meaning of 'umbles' had been forgotten). And so, from the 1830s onwards 'eating humble pie' was being very submissive. 

Q: Jack wants to know what we men when we say 'I'm stoked' -- and where it comes from?

A: It starts with the name of a job -- the 'stoker' (a Dutch word originally) the man who feeds the furnace. Once borrowed into English we formed the verb 'to stoke' as a back formation from this noun. The figurative use of 'stoked' (meaning 'enthusiastic' or 'excited') comes from the notion that the person who says 'I'm stoked' is imagining themself as the furnace, not as the stoker -- as the one who is full of fuel and hot to trot. This seems to come from late in the 20th century. Earlier, being 'stoked' was used to mean 'well fed' -- but that now seems to have faded out of use. 

Q: Pamela wants to know about two expressions 'hat trick' and 'cook up a storm.'

A: (1) 'Hat trick' -- The term first appeared in 1858 H. H. Stevenson taking three wickets with three consecutive deliveries. Fans held a collection for Stephenson and presented him with a hat bought with the proceeds. The hat they gave him was a Fez. Of course, it should have been a bowler!  (2) 'Cook up a storm' is using the verb 'to cool' to mean 'to cause to happen / to stir up.' 'Cook up a storm' is American. It was used from 1924 to mean a literal storm, and from 1959 as a figurative expression for anything that stirs up great activity. 

Q: Harry asks for the origin of the word 'scam' (in an age, his says, of a flood of online 'scams')

A: It's American in origin and relatively recently -- from around 1963. It seems to have begun as American carnival slang. The suggestion is that it is derived from a much older word 'scamp'--which for us is a soft word we might apply to a child, but which was once a much stronger condemnation. In the 1700s a 'scamp' could be huckster or a highwayman. In turn 'scamp' comes from an Italian source word meaning 'to flee' (our word 'scamper' comes from the same source). And the criminals it names would certainly flee in haste after committing their crime in order to avoid being caught. Today's internet scammers don't need to flee -- they hide behind their online anonymity. 

Q: Albert asks where 'fuddy duddy' comes from?

A:  It first appears around 1904, with very little clue as to where it comes from. Internal repetition has certainly helped its popularity, as it has with dilly-dally, helter-skelter, tittle-tattle, willy-nilly, and dozens of others. Michaael Quinion suggests that there is one hint to where it originated: a glossary of the Cumberland dialect published in 1899 contains an entry for duddy fuddiel, a ragged fellow. Fuddiel seems to be a dialect form of fellow, while duddy is a Scots term meaning “ragged”.  What seems to have happened is that duddy fuddiel became inverted and changed into fuddy-duddy. How this happened, or why the sense shifted from somebody ragged to somebody old-fashioned, is quite unclear.  But it might be simpler than that. It's possible that 'fuddy' is a contraction of 'fussy' and 'faddy' and 'duddy' is close to 'daddy'. Perhaps. No one is certain.

Q: John writes: ' I often wonder why in spoken English we often use the "a" sound instead of an "e" sound in pronouncing certain words like "Clerk", "Derby", "Jervis" etc rather than the US pronunciation?'

A:  In English spelling does not control pronunciation. For instance, the letter combination 'ea' has multiple possible pronunciations in English.  There is no controlling connection between 'ough' words and their pronunciations. In English we just have to learn the pronunciations. The correct English pronunciation of 'clerk' is clark, 'derby' is pronounced 'darby', 'Jervis' is 'Jarvis' and so on. The name 'Mainwaring' is pronounced 'Mannering'. I could go on and on. Never try to deduce pronunciation from spelling -- it doesn't work in English. People who mispronounce the words you mention are just ignorant. They have never heard the words spoken correctly, so they say them as they are spelled, and, in that way, are led astray.

Q: Richard writes to ask about the expression 'beg the question.' 

A: This is regularly misused. Sometimes people say this when what they meant is 'it raises the question' and at other times they seem to mean 'it avoids, or doges, the question.' Both of those uses are false. Used correctly 'begging the question' is the name of a logical fallacy, of taking for granted or assuming the thing that you are setting out to prove -- in other words, a circular argument. Philosophers call this logical fallacy petitio principii. Because it is so widely misunderstood and misused my advice is never use it. Never say 'that begs the question. Rather say 'that raises the question' if that's what you mean or 'it dodges the question' if that's your meaning. 

Q:  Jack writes: 'Why, when discussing factions within the Liberal Party, do the media describe those that logically should be called progressives as "moderates"?'

A: My understanding is that this is their self-chosen label.  While the left of the Labor Party is happy to call themselves the left faction. there seems to be a feeling in the Menzies' Liberal Party that 'left' would be an inappropriate e word, so they soften it by calling themselves 'moderates' instead. They are typically economically, socially and environmentally liberal --with little interest in defending conservatism or cultural traditions.  They have at different times also been known at 'Modern Liberal" or 'small "L" Liberals'. Sometimes the British label of 'wets' (coined by Margaret Thatcher) is applied to them. Thatcher used 'wet' to mean: 'weak, inept, ineffectual, effete.'  I will ask Peta Credlin if she can add anything to this. (When did this faction begin? In the 1990s? Or earlier?)

Q: Callum writes: ' Hi Kel, I've been looking through my father's old WW2 memoirs and says their squadron was moved "lock, stock and barrel'. Where does that come from?'

A: It means 'as a whole, completely.' It's recorded from 1817 and clearly refers to the component parts of a gun. The use of the word 'lock' makes it clear this comes from the period when guns used loose gunpowder -- and the lock was the mechanism by which the gunpowder was exploded. It could be a flintlock, wheel-lock or a matchlock. And for purposes of transportation a gun could be disassembled into its component parts and later reassembled to make it whole or complete again. Hence, the source of this metaphor.

Q: Virginia asks:  What is the origin of the phrase cock-a-hoop? 

A: These days it means being pleased with some success -- and is recorded from the mid-1500s. The original meaning was slightly different; it originally referred to drinking: “to make good cheer with reckless prodigality”.  And the original phrase may have been longer: 'to set the cock on the hoop'. This meant to turn on the tap on a barrel of ale' because cock has the double meaning of both 'rooster' and 'tap.' And a hoop is a loop or circle -- so the notion was turning on the tap (or cock) and doing so again and again (around and around). 

Q:  Jason asks: How did the word 'honeymoon' come about? 

A: There are lots of legends about the origin of this word -- all of them false. For instance, there's the claim that the bride's father was required to supply mead (a honey-based drink) to the couple for the first month of their marriage. There never was any such custom. And all the other legends are equally false. The truth is that the word was coined in the mid 1500s to suggest that the first period of a marriage was the sweetest -- and nothing more. (Mind you, it might also suggest that the sweetness in a marriage wanes like the moon!)

Q: Pamela asks about the expression 'up to putty.'

A: It means not up to the usual or required standard. It's an Australian coinage, first recorded in 1909 (in a newspaper called the Sydney Sportsman). It probably comes from the fact that putty is soft and malleable and will not reliably keep its shape. It's clearly related to other expressions such as 'up to scratch' or 'up to snuff.'

Q: John asks for the history and meaning of the word 'wry'?

A: These days 'wry' means 'Dryly or obliquely humorous; sardonic, ironic.' (Oxford).  In other words, it suggests that you find a difficult situation slightly amusing. That meaning has only been with us since about 1923. The word 'wry' is a shortened (or aphetic) form of the word 'awry' which means 'turned to one side' or 'twisted.' So, perhaps a wry sense of humour is a slightly twisted sense of humour?

Q: Jennifer writes: ' Something I've been thinking about, is the word Quixotic. What's the correct pronunciation? And is there a parallel between Don Quixote and Chris Bowen?'

A:  The correct pronunciation is  kwick-SOT-ik. As for the name of the noble knight at the centre of Cervantes' novel, his name has been (and still is) pronounced in a variety of ways  -- either highly anglicized, or slightly less so. The common pronunciation I hear these days is ' ki-HOH-tee'. Mind you, Dr Johnson (and similarly highly educated people) would once have pronounced his name as 'KWICK-suht' (and some still do).  The French pronounce his name as kee-SHOT. Make of that what you will. I think it means that no one except the Spanish can properly do a Spanish accent! Is Chris Bowen like him? Well, in the sense that Bowen is 'tilting at windmills' (that is, engaging in pointless activity) there is a resemblance (and Bowen certainly has a windmill obsession).

Q: Robert writes: ' My query is about the use of ‘this’ and ‘next’, specifically in the use of events. When does ’next weekend’ become ’this weekend’? This always seems to create confusion within our family. For example, on Wednesday our daughter asked if we could look after her dog next weekend. This created a flurry of texts as to which weekend she meant. It seems the meaning of next weekend gradually changes as the week progresses, but there is no defined cutoff. Hope you can help with this important topic. '

A: Here's the rule -- 'this Wednesday' and 'next Wednesday' are exact synonyms: they are saying exactly the same thing. 'Next Wednesday' always (and only) means the next Wednesday to arrive (regardless of whether it is two days away or five days away). Next Wednesday NEVER means skipping the next Wednesday and go to the one after that.  It always means the next one that comes. And if you think about it 'this Wednesday' must have exactly the same meaning. 'Next Wednesday' NEVER means the Wednesday of the week after next -- it always means the one you will encounter next. If you want to talk about a Wednesday that is further away you could 'Wednesday of next week' or something of that sort. 

Q:  Jason writes: 'One thing that really gets my goat is when reporters say, "an historic." It really grates on my ears. What's the correct use of "an" before a word that starts with "h"?'

A: This is an excellent point. The rule is that we use "a" before any word that begins with a consonant sound, and "an" before an initial vowel sound. So 'honour' begins with 'h' but spoken aloud it starts with a vowel sound -- so it takes "an" as its indefinite article. But words such as historic, or historian, or hotel definitely start with a consonant sound. Admittedly it is the soft aspirant consonant "h" -- but it is still a consonant, nevertheless. It is correct to say 'a historic' and incorrect to say, 'an historic.' Pam Peters in her definitive style guide discusses this and says there should be a problem as long as you take care to pronounce the 'h' sound carefully.

Q: Scott writes: ' My father used this expression quite often: "That's enough from the peanut gallery!"  Any idea where it originated?'

A:  The 'peanut gallery' was (from 1876) the nickname for the top gallery in a theater (or, later, cinema), usually the cheapest seats and hence the location of the most vocal and rowdy crowd (who might eat peanuts and throw the shells at patrons in lower seats). 

Q: Geoff asks for the origin and meaning of 'dribs and drabs.'

A: This expression is recorded from 1809, and means supply coming in small, irregular amounts -- like irregular drips falling from a leaking tap. 'Drips' is an abbreviation of the word 'dribble' -- and 'drabs' is added as the sort of alliterative repetition that is common in English (e.g. spick and span).

Q: John writes to tell us about a new expression he has heard -- the 'compensation economy.' This (he says) is when government grants go to activists based on their claim of victimhood. He adds: 'The recipients then contribute to the next group's coffers and so the cycle continues.' He wants to know if this is now in any dictionaries.

A: No, this one is so new that the dictionaries are yet to catch up. I have been unable to trace the origin of 'compensation economy' (and John doesn't supply it) but it is clearly not part of the productive economy -- simply a way of labelling what happens to some of our taxpayer dollars.  It's an interesting compound noun, and research continues. (This may come out of an academic background, rather than a political background -- if any reader can supply any further information that would be very welcome.)

Q: Matt says that his father often said: 'What's that got to do with the price of fish?' and wants to know here it comes from and what it means?

A: "What's that got to do with the price of fish?" is a sarcastic expression denoting annoyance at the irrelevance of what has just been said.  Linguist Pascal Tréguer has traced variations of the phrase back to at least 1832. And it sometimes used commodities other than fish -- sometimes it's eggs or cheese or bread. One of the early versions was "What's that got to do with the price of tea in China?" So, just a popular bit of sarcasm, and nothing more.

Q: Veronica writes: 'What are the origins of: "Sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite." I was told that this originated in Elizabethan times. Children were tied in bed so that (a) they did not fall out and (b) to prevent bugs getting under the bed clothes!!'

A: A complete myth from beginning to end. For a start, 'sleep tight' is not recorded, until 1790, long after Elizabethan times. Secondly, it always meant 'be tightly bound to sleep' -- that is, an old-fashioned way of saying 'sleep well.' The second part of the expression (about the bed bugs) is much later still (probably early 20th century) and is just a playful rhyme to amuse small children.   

Q:  Cath writes about the pronunciation of the great French art museum in Paris -- from which the French crown jewels were stolen. She says she's heard so many pronunciations that she is now confused -- what is correct please?

A: The French definitely pronounce it with two syllables as LOOV-RAH. But I believe there is an established English pronunciation which is only one syllable -- LOOV and because we are speaking English, I believe that's the one we should stick to. 

Q:  Callum writes: 'Given we've just marked Remembrance Day I have wondered about the word 'cenotaph.'

A:  'Cenotaph' literally means 'an empty grave' -- that is, a symbolic grave that represents the deaths of many people. It comes from an ancient Greek word -- the first half of 'cenotaph; comes from the Greek word for 'empty' and the second part from the Greek for 'tomb.'

Q: Peter writes: 'Can you please explain the meaning, and origin, of the term “to second guess”. I think it means to “know with hindsight” but today seems to have the literal meaning of having a second guess.'

A: Actually, it is the very opposite of hindsight. To 'second guess' someone is to guess what they will do before they do it. Or as the Oxford puts it: 'To anticipate the action of (a person), to outguess (them).'  And I don't think that meaning has changed over the years. 

Q: John asks: 'What is the origin of the phrase " between a rock and a hard place "?'

A:  It’s believed that the idiom ‘between a rock and a hard place’ originated in the United States. According to The Phrase Finder, the earliest known citation of this expression comes from the year 1921. It seems to have originally meant "bankrupt' and to have changed by about 1930 to mean having no good options -- the only choices available being unattractive. 

Q: Peter writes: ' One word kept popping up in the n was recently: "nepo baby" -- is this a new expression and what is its origin and meaning?'

A: It is fairly new -- appears to have emerged just before 2010. It is short for 'nepotism baby' --meaning the son or daughter of a famous person who follows their famous parent into the same career and is seen to have unfair advantages because of their family name and their parent's fame.   It is usually used pejoratively to indicate a celebrity or politician whose fame and success are unearned or undeserved. And first half of this compound noun 'nepotism' came into English from the Latin word for 'nephew'.  The term originated in the Middle Ages with the assignment of nephews, sons, or other relatives to important positions by Catholic popes and bishops. 

Q: Dough writes: 'I've noticed recently people finishing a comment, usually one that could be controversial or even offensive, with the expression "Just saying". I'm not sure what to make of this.'

A: It seems to be designed to soften a possibly offensive remark. The remark is made and then the phrase is uttered as if to say, "I'm not having a go, I'm saying (by implication) what a lot of people would say).' It seems to have been around for a long time (the Oxford thinks since 1925) but it took off in the modern sense from 1990 when it started to be used by comedians such as Eddie Murphy and Paul Reiser.  It became a common catchphrase from around 2011.

Q:  Catherine asks: 'Where did the expression "Happy as a sand boy" originate? My Irish mother would often say this.'

A:  The sand boys of the expression actually sold sand. Boy here was a common term for a male worker of lower class (as in bellboy, cowboy, and stableboy). There was once a substantial need for sand. It was used to scour pans and tools and was sprinkled on the floors of butchers’ shops and pubs to take up spilled liquids. The long hours and hard work involved in carrying and shovelling sand, plus the poor returns, meant that sandboys didn’t have much cause to look happy in the normal run of things, improving only when they’d had a pint or two. So the sandboys were happy because they were drunk.  

Q: Rohan has two questions: 'Why are the notes taken at a meeting called "minutes"? And why when we sleep do we have"40" winks?'

A: (1) The "minutes" of a meeting are, as we know, "a record or brief summary of events or transactions; the record of the proceedings at a meeting" (Oxford). As far as I can work out, these notes are called minutes because they are brief (the "minimum" record of events). (2) "40 winks" all hinges on the number 40. The "winks" part is clear enough -- closing the eyes for a brief period. But the addition of 40 means "more than just a moment." For a long period 40 was used as a symbolic number for 'quite a lot'. There was a time when we would have used 100 in the same way (but with the mathematical inflation of the age we live in it might 1,000 today!) But back in medieval times 40 meant "an imprecise number, but quite a bit." 

Q: Malcolm asks why in 'deep fake' the word 'deep' is used on the compound noun.

A: 'Deep' is being used here as what is called an 'intensifier'. It is used to mean 'a lot' or 'a great deal' or 'very substantial.' It is used in the same way in other combinations, such as 'deep thinking' or 'deep trouble.'

Q: Samson writes: 'It seems, in the past year or two, we are "backing each other in". In the past, at least in Australia, we used to "back each other up". The only backing in was done in the car. Your thoughts?'

A: I think they are two different metaphors or images: (1) 'backing each other in' comes from gambling and refers to wagering that you and I together will have shorter odds than either of us alone; (2) 'backing each up' comes from combat where two soldiers standing back-to-back can facing a surrounding foe. Despite using different images, both metaphors mean roughly the same thing -- mutual support.

Q: Neil asks what "bated breath" means.

A: 'Bated breath' means 'subdued or restrained breathing under the influence of awe, terror, or other emotion' (Oxford). Here 'bate" is shortened (or aphetic) form of the verb 'to abate' -- which came into English in the 1300s from a French source word meaning 'to cut down.' 

Q: Tony writes the Jeremey Clarkson calls his Cotswold farm 'diddly-swat' as asks where this comes from.

A: Strangely this is American in origin, not British. It's recorded in this form from 1963 as what the Oxford calls "a counting noun" meaning something of little value. The original form, in the 1930s, was 'doodly-squat' where 'doodly' was a vulgar Americanism for what we tell our little toddlers is 'poo.' 

Q: Following the brazen theft of the French crown jewels from the Louvre I've had several requests for the origin of 'heist.'

A: It began life (in the 1930s) as an American slang variation on the word 'hoist.' And 'hoist' is an ancient word (of Germanic origin) and just means 'to lift.' When someone steals the French crown jewels, they 'lift' them and carry them way -- they 'hoist' them -- making their theft a 'heist.'

Q: Beverly asks for the origin of 'rank outsider.'

A: It comes from horse racing, first recorded in 1869, to mean 'an outsider at very long odds.' It comes from the much older verb 'to rank' meaning to put things in order, in a series of lines or rows (which in turn is a military expression of French origin and more than 500 years old).

Q: Mervyn asks where does saying "sure as   eggs" come from?

A: It means something that is certain. The reason it sounds baffling these days is that people have forgotten the whole proverb which began by saying "as sure as eggs is eggs." In other words, a thing is always itself. Eggs are always eggs; they don't suddenly become broccoli or roast beef! It's just pointing to an obvious truth. It's a British idiom from the late 1600s, recorded in a book called Proverbs and Epigrams by John Ray in 1668.

Q: Warren writes: 'my students' question is where does the line “through the wringer come from?'

A: They are baffled because this primitive technology no longer exists. In the days before spin driers washing machines (and before them washing tubs) had a hand wringer attached at the top -- two rollers that could be turned by hand with each piece of clothing going through in turn having the water squeezed out of it.  That 'squeezing' process is what is meant by being put "though the wringer." The idiom "through the wringer" comes from early 20th century America.

Q: David asks, where does the term “keen as mustard” come from? 

A: From the past, is the first thing to notice. It's recorded from the 1650s -- making around 375 years old. It is part of a group of expressions that use the spiciness of mustard as a comparison or compliment. This expression plus the phrase 'as hot as mustard' seem to come from the same period -- which seems to be a time when the English had discovered mustard and used this condiment whenever they ate roast beef. So, it was very much in favour. So, it appears to be nothing more than a complimentary metaphorical comparison.