It’s always been fun to play with the language. Rather than being a drudge, English can be fascinating. It is to me.

Let me explain: Several years ago, I served on a committee charged with the hiring of the editor for La Mecha, Highlands’ weekly newspaper. One of the applicants was Eva, an Austrian-born woman who spoke English, Spanish, German and French. She’d been my student in several journalism courses, and naturally, I recommended her. I told the group that Eva was a polyglot.

Well, that drew umbrage from one of the student members, a man just a few years younger than I. He used a line straight from Thumper in the 1942 movie, “Bambi” — “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”

Then he insisted, “Well, that’s your opinion.” I hadn’t used “polyglot” to flaunt it but mainly because I assumed most people had heard and used it before. Remember, a glot sounds like glob or blot or clot, or troglodyte, and poly indicates many of them.

And in what way did I malign Eva? Well, apparently calling her a polyglot was petty and unprofessional of me. I didn’t explain at the time what it means, but in case you’re interested — and even if you’re not — a polyglot is one who knows several languages. And I suppose I could have called her something “worse,” e.g., a polymath, but the sensitive student likely would have stormed out of the room, refusing to listen to any further character assassination. Better to be a polyglot than a polliwog.

•••

We can say almost anything and convey an ironic meaning by our tone of voice. For example, as hard as I try, I cannot say, “You’re so much help” and sound sincere. Somehow that combination of words is always going to appear ironic.

I thought back to that editors interview and wonder whether it was not really what I said but how I said it that set off the other student.

In addition to making words appear to represent something else, I find it interesting to look up words that have changed meanings and those that make us wonder where they came from.

Take the word “curfew,” which generally indicates a time to be back indoors, something every teen opposes. The word, from Middle English, signals the hour in which to extinguish fires. The word, in Old French consisted of “curvir,” to cover, and “feu,” fire.

The word “trivia,” representing details or pieces of information of little importance, is the plural of “trivium,” a place where three roads meet. And when there’s a convergence of three roads, what better activity is there than to exchange trivia at the tri + via?

And what else might be exchanged on those roads? How about “gossip”? We all think of gossip as the exchange of information that tends to disparage others. The word is of Old English origin and was “godsibb,” another word for godfather, godmother or a baptismal sponsor. Then, in Middle English, the word became a fusing of “God” and “sibb,” a relative or close friend with whom one gossips. Later, in the 19^th century, gossip came to mean idle talk.

So, who do we believe are the biggest gossips? Possibly “hussies.” A hussy, we all know, is a word usually following “brazen.” It describes a loose, immoral woman. However, in 1530, in Middle English, the word was “husewif,” meaning housewife. Later, its meaning was broadened to mean “any woman or girl.” More than a hundred years later, improper behavior became associated with “hussy.”

“Silly” now means “having or showing a lack of common sense or judgment.” Only 10 short centuries ago, the word meant blessed or happy and later evolved into pious, innocent, harmless, pitiable and feeble-minded before ending up as foolish or stupid.

What about “toothsome” and “personable”? Some would assume toothsome had something to do with dentition. In a way it does, but the first meaning is “pleasing to the taste, palatable,” as in a toothsome dish. It’s a dish we would want to “sink our teeth into.” A secondary definition refers to pleasing, as fame or power, and farther down the dictionary list, toothsome refers to being voluptuous, sexually alluring.>

And what about “personable”? You defined it as having a pleasant personality, didn’t you? Wrong! The first definition has to do with a pleasing personal appearance; handsome attractive.

The secondary definition does allude to “pleasing personality” and “affable,” “amiable” and “sociable.” Some people, especially college freshmen, refuse to recognize that dictionaries list definitions of words in order of custom and practice. They fail to recognize that the first definition is what dictionary editors consider the most proper and the most common

But we unrepentant language cops … cops? Speaking of which, “cops” is a shortening of “copper,” which comes from the German “kapen.” And “cop” as a verb means to take something without permission. But don’t cops arrest others who take (cop) stuff?

An acquaintance habitually copped things of little or value. After years of the five-finger discount, he began to be bothered by this kleptomania. And to help him get through the pain, he usually took something for it.