The False Refinements in Our Style, by Jonathan Swift
"Monosyllables . . . are the disgrace of our language"
By Richard Nordquist
The False Refinements in Our Style
"I cou'dn't get the things you sent for all about town.--I tho't to ha' come down myself, and then I'd ha' bro't 'um; but I ha'nt don't, and I believe I can't do't, that's pozz--Tom begins to gi'mself airs, because he's going with the plenipo's.--'Tis said the French king will bamboozle us agen, which causes many speculations. The Jacks, and others of that kidney, are very uppish and alert upon't, as you may see by their phizz's.--Will Hazard has got the hipps, having lost to the tune of five hundr'd pound, tho' he understands play very well, nobody better. He has promis't me upon rep, to leave off play; but you know 'tis a weakness he's too apt to give into, tho' he has as much wit as any man, nobody more. He has lain incog ever since.--The mobb's very quiet with us now.--I believe you tho't I banter'd you in my lost like a country put.--I shan't leave town this month, &c."