LEND ME YOUR EAR: DO MICE POTATOES RIDE IN `LIMICEINES'?

Do mice potatoes ride in `limiceines'?

At last, a group of educators are conceding that memory work is a significant tool for learning. Professors at Illinois University, Champaign, are researching the effects of drugs and alcohol on memory. This news gives us yet another reason to write a column on the value of memorization in learning to spell.

Moreover, a book by a writer who confesses to have been a poor speller all his life has been awaiting our attention for weeks. "The Ter'ible Speller," by William Proctor, contains a list of 228 words the author considers the toughest words to spell. Other word buffs could probably add as many more, but Proctor adds surprising tips gleaned from personal experience, and for these his book deserves recognition.

The author suggests that we pronounce every troublesome word before trying to spell it. Excellent advice if we know the correct pronunciation to begin with, and are cognizant of regional distinctions. Most adults know the difference between the pronunciation of "envelop," the item used for enclosing a letter, and "envelop," the verb meaning to enclose or surround. But what about sounds that remain hidden?

Proctor calls these sounds "silent assassins." Dictionaries differ on many, and I sometimes wish I had fewer books to consult. The plural of "echo," for instance, may be "echos" or "echoes," depending on the dictionary used. The plurals of "tomato" and "potato" require the silent "e": "tomatoes"/"potatoes." The word "hero" retains the "e" in the plural if it refers to famous persons: "heroes." But if we are hungry enough to want two sandwiches, the plural of "hero" is "heros" -- though we may need the help of a guest or a psychiatrist unless the sandwiches are mini-heros.

Most of us learned about mnenomic devices in grade school, and observed that the "m" at the beginning of "mnenomic" was silent. Soon after, we discovered more words beginning with letters we didn't pronounce -- "knowledge," "gnat," and "pneumonia" among others. When we encountered "physical," we learned the sound of "f" was spelled "ph." All Greek to us, as the saying goes. At least "ph" for "f" was not originally English. But the letters "z" and "s" in words such as "baptize" and "baptism" still send us back to our dictionaries.

Proctor sets great store by mnenomic devices, but he suggests that picturing a word in the mind is sometimes helpful -- words we see in print regularly. A mental picture of the word "noticeable," for example, reveals to him that the word is composed of two familiar words: "notice" and "able."

Elementary, Proctor. But what about all those other words that confuse us: "constable," "valuable," "edible," "credible," to name a few. Short-sounding vowels are seldom distinguishable by sound, and the number of words in which vowels are not stressed would make another book I don't plan to write. For me, memorization is easier than trying to picture or create a mnenomic device that readers lack the experience to understand.

Proctor writes of his way of remembering how to spell "kindergarten." Bear in mind that every kindergarten must have a teacher, he suggests. "Teacher" begins with a "t," not a "d," as a number of writers who plant gardens may suppose. Proctor's suggestion is of value if the writer can relate to teaching. The author's experience however, may not remind others who are far removed from his field. Memories of fame may cause a jockey to think of food for his horse, inspiring him to write "hayday" for "heyday."

This merely scratches the surface of the problems discussed in "The Ter'ible Speller," and is not intended to belittle the author. William Proctor has a delightful sense of humor, and I cannot believe he was serious in the chapter called "Latin in 20 Minutes." I had four years of Latin in high school, and I still depend on Latin to help me spell words derived from the language. But it took almost an hour for me to comprehend suggestions for mastering what I already knew.

The author's explanation of how to remember the spelling of "limousine" is surely intended to amuse. He advises us to imagine a limousine for a mouse!

In American English, the plural of mouse is mice. But in computerland, mice potatoes are computer nerds. Do mice potatoes ride in "limiceines"?

~Aileen Lorberg is a language columnist for the Southeast Missourian.