LEND ME YOUR EAR: NO ONE SETS OR LAYS DOWN IN OUR SANCUM SANCTORUM

Requests for explanations of "sit/set" and "lay/lie" never cease. These two pairs of verbs required separate treatment in 1983, and since then we have learned so much more, we could probably write a whole book of distinctions. But no such plans are on our agenda because we have more urgent topics to occupy our thoughts. Cheers!

Most of the confusions over both couples arise from their having unidentical twin siblings. We begin with a single sibling, "sit."

The principal parts of "sit" are "sit, sat, sitting." In general, "sit" is an intransitive verb: it takes no object. Today we sit, yesterday we sat, and we have often sat too long at our desk. We could still be sitting when the cows come home, but we are not permitted to sit anything down. Not even a milk pail. Have pails for milking udderly vanished?

Suppose we have something else that needs a place to sit: the bouquet of flowers we have just acquired in lieu of a pail. The laws of language insist that we "set" the flowers somewhere. The dinner table is the logical place. We may sit at the table, but we may not sit the table or sit our bouquet anywhere.

The principal parts of "set" are "set, set, setting." "Set" is a transitive verb, meaning it calls for an object, or so say the rule books. So we set the table and we set the flowers on it. But no one is permitted to "set a spell" because the expression is unacceptable to our peers, and an absolute felony in our sanctuary unless we are joking.

Even more confusing is that a hen may properly sit or set on her eggs, and is called a sitting hen or a setting hen. The only solution to inconsistencies such as this is to memorize the exceptions while learning the textbook distinctions.

Now for a similar rundown on "lay/lie/." Like "sit/set", "lay" and "lie" are unidentical twins. The principal parts of "lay" are "lay, laid, laying." In this division, "lay" is a transitive verb requiring an object; "lie" is intransitive, and is not permitted an object. Today we lay only one place at the table, yesterday we had a guest and laid two.

In times past, we have laid more than two places for guests, but these days we do well to lay only one. In fact, we sometimes find it impossible to remain sitting at the table because the news we are trying to watch deprives us of appetite. If broadcasters spare us grisly views of starvation the world over, they warn us that a bomb has been discovered inside a frozen chicken.

Having thus far escaped being bombed clear to Halifax, we resume our discussion with the observation that "lay" turns up as the past tense of "lie" as well as the present tense of "lay," which causes additional grief. Today we lie down to rest, but yesterday we lay down. Most of the time since infancy we "have lain" down for a rest, beginning with our mother's desperate attempt to shut us up. A muzzle might have been more helpful.

The principal parts of "lie," as is obvious by now, are "lie, lay, lain." Grade school buddies may boast of laying each other out on the playground, and they remain grammatical if they say they laid one or the other low. But they won't give a hoot if they don't understand the loser "had lain" on the ground all through recess. Their business is winning, not grammar. And the word "lain" seems to be missing from adult vocabularies as well.

Last week a guidance counselor told his TV audience that he has often "laid" down after a long session with a troubled youth. A long session with a troubled youth could make the best of counselors forget their grammar, but perhaps no teacher ever set him straight on "laid" and "lain." Teachers do well just to get "lay" and "lie" across.

Up to now we have not mentioned the existence of another "lie" -- the one connected with telling a falsehood. "Lie" also serves as a noun. This will jumpstart our explications next time around, when the verbs we have flogged today will also turn into nouns. Stay tuned!

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