![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4X46f6o8HAdHrUTny6q6-vRYR7hsCFMx14vb7WZtO4foiBwloxS4l5AXi39KATWIWyedzTXPV7g3tH7fpGZDhPqY_4eLst6uzar4MhfKGDr-2tF2bd6PFbdlg8rMGPflsmIgMTN4eq2M/s400/Downloads3.jpg)
But an inkling is not a baby squid . . . so what is it?
A very small pen? Uhm . . . no.
In its current usage, an inkling is a vague feeling or idea about something . . . that much is generally known . . . . but the origins of the word is something else altogether.
In days of yore . . . in a long long yore ago during the times of the Crusades and the Mongol hordes . . . you didn't have an inkling you had a ninkling.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCkzjC-TDQg4QQXf2MN26kMfA0aTIKDVbqXytXVWqA4-Fg77raAfu0H0GpbTx7TmPRUnx5PZOlIlLUt6nKzA5YnIk8FR6jppbx3K5e-nczLRoj1ev6iXXkERls8xEbRK2GpK_CKkV8FB8/s400/Downloads3.jpg)
A few hundred years later the 'n' was dropped from the word and at that point you would have an inkling instead of a ninkling. And then at some point further on in time an inkling became something you had . . . like a baby squid or a tiny pen . . . instead of something you heard. And you wouldn't have heard it in the first place if you hadn't been eaves dropping . . . which is quite rude, by the way. Just sayin'.
So, there it is.
No comments:
Post a Comment