And a "breech clout" is a type of loincloth historically worn by many North American Indian men, often with leggings. (Getting further and further away from clootie dumplings, but etymology certainly can be an interesting subset of genealogy.) Cheers. Dan MacMeekin Silver Spring, Maryland, USA On 2/23/2011 6:32 AM, TRISH DAY wrote: > In Yorkshire, a cloth is a "clout" - very similar. > > > --- On Wed, 23/2/11, Ailsa Dee <[email protected]> wrote: > > > From: Ailsa Dee <[email protected]> Subject: Re: [WIG LIST] > the use of the word "cloot" To: [email protected] Date: > Wednesday, 23 February, 2011, 3:01 > > > > > > > From: Ailsa Dee [mailto:[email protected]] Sent: Wednesday, 23 > February 2011 12:53 PM To: '[email protected]' Subject: > FW: Words dropped off previous post! the use of the word "cloot" > > > > I read with interest your postings about clootie dumplings. Isn't it > always > > the way that when you hear or see a brand new word, you almost > immediately start to see it turning up in all sorts of places! > > > > I was just rereading some articles I had transcribed a couple of > years ago from the "Otago Witness", a New Zealand newspaper. In 1889 > a man, probably from Scotland, had written the following to the press > about living conditions in the goldmining town, the Nenthorn in the > Otago area of NZ: > > > > The Weather may to the general reader be a subject of little > importance, but when you are living in a "cloot hoose," and a gale > has been blowing for two days without intermission, accompanied by > rain, sleet, and snow, which penetrate the smallest slit or opening, > and come in upon your floors upon which you have to sleep and sit in > the shape of water and sludge, you are forced to the conclusion, > that, after all, the weather has it in its power to make things > exceedingly unpleasant, and suggestive of the question whether life > is worth living. All I can say is that I hope these lines will > > be read under more agreeable circumstances than those under which > they were > > written. Sitting upon a stone cairn without a fire of any kind, with > a wet board upon your knees for a writing desk, and in a tent > flapping continuously like the sails of a vessel, with' an uncertain > but well-grounded feeling of doubt at heart of its safety and that of > all your worldly belongings therein contained, is not very conducive > to the art of literary composition, to say nothing of its > calligraphic execution ; and I am sure I owe the compositor of this > letter an apology for this unusual arrangement of pothooks and > crooks. > > > > If a cloot is a dishcloth - dish cloot - or a large piece of cloth > used for > > a clootie dumpling (Wigs Rootsweb posting March 2010) then the > writer's cloot hoose was probably a tent! > > > > Two months after settlement, in August 1889 when this letter was > written, the Nenthorn had a fairly large population. The majority > were men but there > > were at least six women though one "lady" in a beautiful > slate-coloured > > bombazine gown, was of doubtful gender! I would imagine that most of > the inhabitants would have also been living in cloot hooses at that > time. Within five years of its settlement the Nenthorn was a complete > ghost town. > > > > Regards, > > > > Ailsa > > ----- No virus found in this message. Checked by AVG - www.avg.com > Version: 10.0.1204 / Virus Database: 1435/3461 - Release Date: > 02/22/11 > > >