>Stephen wrote
>
>>jewelry
>
>Well, I've got everything ready for tomorrow, I've prepared and eaten a
>light but delicious meal of cod with fines herbes, rice, runner beans and
>broccoli, I've enjoyed the last of a pleasant Macon Superieur with it, I've
>decanted the port and am currently luxuriating in a glass of same with an
>excellent Stilton, and I ought to be in a mellow and forgiving mood.
>However (and I only say this because umrats will know how highly I regard
>Stephen and all his works), I have to say that I *loathe* this construction.

I believe I was quoting MTV news at the time, m'lud. I really don't
think that Mr Nuncius needs to get quite so jiggy with it.

>It's *jewellery*, shurely? Ironmongery is what ironmongers deal in,
>groceries are what grocers deal in, haberdashery is what haberdashers deal
>in and jewellery is....er....well, you get my drift, I'm sure. And I don't
>care *what* these new-fangled, dictionaries may say. Faddish piffle, that's
>what it is. If the words "hoist", "own" and "petard" didn't spring so
>readily to mind, I'd jolly well appoint myself Jewellery Monitor. But they
>do, so I won't. I shall just mutter grumpily into my LBV '97 (Do Vale Mina,
>since you ask) and say no more about it.

I think that we should quietly bling this episode to a close.

-- 
Stephen

Into my heart an air that kills from yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills, what spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content, I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went and cannot come again.