parapluie
Language: English
Part of speech: noun
Forms: form: parapluies
Etymology: From French parapluie.
Senses: examples: text: It has poured all this Day withᵒᵘᵗ a moment’s interruption or even Abatement, but with yᵉ help of Pattins & Parapluies we got to yᵉ Well.
ref: 1781 September 30, Hester Newdigate, “1781⁠”, in [Anne Emily,] Lady Newdigate-Newdegate, The Cheverels of Cheverel Manor […], London; New York, N.Y.; Bombay: Longmans, Green, and Co. […], published 1898, page 35:
text: St. Vincent Ferrier, who is ſaying maſs at Vannes, ſearches for his gloves and his parapluie in Rome, without his abſence being obſerved.
ref: 1801 March 1, “For the Monthly Magazine. Account of the Department of Finisterre in France, extracted from Cambray’s Voyage dans le Finisterre, ou Etat de ce Departement, en 1794 et 1795.”, in The Monthly Magazine; or, British Register. […], volume XI, part I. for 1801, number 70 / number 2 of volume II, London: […] Richard Phillips, […], page 135, column 1:
text: Over this inscription, the parapluie or umbrella, usually held over the head of the Sovereign Pontiff in his processions, and below, the keys of Saint Peter, saltier.
ref: 1818, J[ohn] C. Laskey, “No. XLVIII. Visite du Pape Pie VII.”, in A Description of the Series of Medals Struck at the National Medal Mint by Order of Napoleon Bonaparte, Commemorating the Most Remarkable Battles and Events During His Dynasty, London: […] H. R. Young, […], page 87:
text: I say sheltered, because, though that range of cypress trees through which it runs is deprived of all its lower branches, the topmost that are left form a canopy, excluding, by their luxuriance, wind, sun, and rain. / Besides these natural parasols and parapluies, he has erected others in the shape of elegant recesses, which are built of cedar and mahogany, and fitted up with benches, tables, and chairs, as we remember to have remarked and admired, some years ago, in the grounds at Claremont, in Surrey.
ref: 1819, [Adelaide] O’Keeffe, “Letter XIV. The Rev. Henry Clonmore to his Wife.”, in Dudley. […], volume I, London: […] Strahan and Spottiswoode, […]; for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, […], pages 194–195:
text: At the corners of the streets it shot a curved torrent from the projecting spouts, flooding the channels, and drenching, with a sudden drum-like sound, the passing umbrellas, whose varied tints of pink, blue, and orange, like the draggled finery of feathers and flounces beneath them, only made the scene more glaringly desolate. Then came the rush and splatter of cabriolets, scattering terror and defilement. The well-mounted English dandy shews his sense by hoisting his parapluie; the French dragoon curls his mustachio at such effeminacy, and braves the liquid bullets in the genuine spirit of Marengo; the old French count picks his elastic steps with the placid and dignified philosophy of the ancien régime; while the Parisian dames, of all ranks, ages, and degrees, trip along, with one leg undraped, exactly in proportion to the shapeliness of its configuration.
ref: 1827 September, P., “Travelling Sketches: No. 1. Travelling in General: Bordeaux Diligence in particular.”, in The Monthly Magazine or British Register of Literature, Sciences, and the Belles-Lettres, volume IV, number 21, London: […] Geo[rge] B[yrom] Whittaker, […], page 242:
text: So saying, he clutched more firmly his old weapon, the green umbrella, and gave it a flourish, as if deciding upon sticking to it; when suddenly he heard a low grumbling sound from the hedge, like the maundering of a cantankerous bull. He immediately halted, and spread open his parapluie, which is popularly supposed to be the best object in the world for scaring off cattle; but instead of a bull, an ungainly human animal came scrambling over a stile, and in a moment stood before Twigg like a lion in his path, and scowling upon him from under a pair of black shaggy eyebrows.
ref: 1834, Thomas Hood, chapter II, in Tylney Hall. […], volume II, London: A. H. Baily and Co., […], page 49:
text: Their use has much increased of late years, and materially benefited our silk market: and we doubt whether a Frenchman carries his parapluie with greater regularity than an Englishman does his umbrella.
ref: 1835, “Umbrellas”, in The Weekly Visitor, for 1835, London: Religious Tract Society; sold by John Davis, […], page 391, column 2:
text: Up went umbrellas and parasols; out came cloaks and Mackintoshes. An air of triumph seemed to pervade the company as they remarked that there were no means of shelter left for me. I let them enjoy their triumph for a while, and then I quietly unscrewed the top of my walking-stick umbrella. My walking-stick umbrella, did I say? Alas! I had brought my bamboo telescope instead. / Young Ariel Hicks, a young gentleman of fifteen years of age, and as many stones weight, now offered me a share of his parapluie; but, as Hicks was only four feet two inches in height, and I stood five feet ten in my shoes (or rather, in Miss Arabella’s), I was soon tired of doing penance in the form of a letter S, and boldly declared my utter contempt for all kinds of showers, and thunder-showers in particular.
ref: 1838 July, [William Makepeace] Thackeray; Albert [Richard] Smith; Gilbert [Abbott] a Beckett; the Brothers Mayhew [i.e., Henry Mayhew, Horace Mayhew], “That Mister Nubibus”, in The Comic Almanack: An Ephemeris in Jest and Earnest, Containing Merry Tales, Humorous Poetry, Quips, and Oddities, first series (1835–1843), London: Chatto and Windus, […], published [1878?], →OCLC, pages 142–143:
text: “Good morning, gentlemen; a fine broiling afternoon this,” chimed in Jonathan. / “To be sure it is, Master Jonathan; where did you spring from? To be sure it is; how can it help being a broiling day; don’t you see my umbrella is covered with new silk?” demanded the doctor, pointing to his parapluie, which maintained its usual position behind this light of science.
ref: 1841, [William Johnson Neale], “How Jonathan’s Protegee, Chawbacon, Contributed to the Entertainment of His Patron and Friend”, in Paul Periwinkle: or, The Pressgang. […], London: […] Thomas Tegg, […], page 48:
text: Roger’s late persecution by his old loves, and the use he made of his parapluie in keeping them off has suggested to Sydney a new name for that article—a parafemme.
ref: 1843 January 19–20, Thomas Moore, “1843⁠”, in Wilfred S. Dowden, Barbara G. Bartholomew, Joy L. Linsley, editors, The Journal of Thomas Moore, volume 6 (1843–1847), Newark, Del.: University of Delaware Press; London; Toronto, Ont.: Associated University Presses, published 1991, →ISBN, page 2314:
text: Meantime, the war of winds was quite as fierce as the war of waters—and while I could hardly maintain my seat, I could not help repeating the words of Lear:— / “Blow winds and crack your cheeks, rage, blow! / Ye cataracts and hurricanos spout, / Till ye have drenched the steeples—drown’d the cocks!” / Umbrellas, parasols, and parapluies were soon inverted, destroyed, or lost, and had it not been for a spare cap and cape, of Macintosh manufacture—which I supplied to my invalid fellow-passenger, I think her doom would have been sealed!
ref: 1844, James Johnson, “A Glengariff Shower”, in A Tour in Ireland; with Meditations and Reflections, London: S[amuel] Highley, […], page 127:
text: Tim raised himself up in the bed, / And quickly hoisted o’er his head / His parapluie, or umbrella: / Kate sees the act, but can’t surmise / What it can mean, but with surprise / Asks, What can ail thee, fellow?
ref: 1858, J[oseph] A[ddison] Turner, “Preparing for a Storm”, in The Discovery of Sir John Franklin, and Other Poems, Mobile; New York, N.Y.: […] S. H. Goetzel & Co.; Athens, Ga.: William N. White, page 64:
text: “When about five miles on our road, the sky got dark, and there came on in a short time heavy rain, which descended on us without mercy; up went umbrellas without loss of time, the little man unfolding one bearing a due proportion to the breadth of his brim. / “Before long, my friend the Baron began to be seriously annoyed by the outpourings on him of the man of malt’s eave-droppings; he expostulated with him upon the propriety of giving his parapluie a forward inclination, but passive resistance was at first doggedly presented to all his remonstrances. / “‘Sir,’ repeated the Baron, ‘you are inundating me with your umbrella.’
ref: 1860, Peter Paradox [pseudonym], chapter II, in The Land of the Kelt: A Tale of Ierne in the Days of the ’98. […], volume II, London: Saunders, Otley, & Co., […], pages 54–55:
text: Louise, the lady’s maid, commenced her attendance on the Monday. She did not appear to relish the walk more than did her mistress, and displayed an enormous crimson parapluie, which she held between her face and the sun.
ref: 1866, Mrs. Henry Wood [i.e., Ellen Wood], “Taking a Portrait”, in St. Martin’s Eve. […], volume II, London: Tinsley Brothers, […], page 135:
text: By some means he got again into his den on the night of a first representation with his big roll of papers, his cloaks, his parapluie, and his opera glass.
ref: 1868 December, “Parisian Eccentrics”, in Dublin University Magazine, a Literary and Political Journal, volume LXXII, number CCCCXXXII, Dublin: George Herbert, […]; London: Hurst & Blackett, page 610, column 2:
text: A Mr. Bell left his umbrella one evening, which somebody claimed and carried off; whereupon the defrauded proprietor brought an action against the doorkeepers, and served the process himself, within the precincts of the House. Lord Chancellor Eldon called the attention of the Lords to this breach of privilege, and the offender was ordered to appear at the bar. Tom Moore seized upon the incident, and indited a rhymed version of Eldon’s speech: […] “What security have you, ye bishops and peers, / If thus you give back Mr. Bell his parapluie, / That he mayn’t with his stick come about all your ears, / And then where would your Protestant periwigs be?
ref: 1872 September 21, “The Umbrella”, in Charles Dickens [Jr.], editor, All the Year Round. […], volume VIII, number 199, London: […] Messrs. Chapman and Hall, […], page 451, column 2:
text: There was a rap on the window from outside. Dürten went to see who was there. Baker Schultsch stood there, with her skirt thrown over her head,—for in those days, even with the richest burgher’s wives, that was the substitute for parasols and parapluies,—“Dürten,” said she, “come, let me in. I came round, for it is raining cats and dogs.[…]”
ref: 1873 February 22, Fritz Reuter, anonymous translator, “His Little Serene Highness. […]”, in Littell’s Living Age, fifth series, volume I / from beginning, volume CXVI, number 1498, Boston, Mass.: Littell and Gay, page 466, column 2:
text: Since the time when Jonas Hanway, in Queen Anne’s reign, walked down Cheapside with his parapluie above him, vast changes have been made in the manufacture of these goods, and no firm can be said to have displayed a greater fertility in this direction than Messrs. Aaron, Sons, & Co.
ref: 1888, “AARON, SONS, & CO., Umbrella Manufacturers, […]”, in Wyman’s Commercial Encyclopædia of Leading Manufacturers of Great Britain, and Their Productions; Being a Guide to Merchant Buyers All Over the World, London: Wyman & Sons, […], page 479:
text: It is still raining & we are going to drive to Scotland Yard to ask for H[ester]’s umbrella. I am rather collapsy a mixture of Aunt Blanche & the concert proved too much for my digestion & I retired all yesterday & still feel rather squeamish: however a drive will get me up & Codge [i.e., Hester] will be glad to recover her parapluie.
ref: c. 1900, Anne Thackeray Ritchie, “[1879–1900] To William Ritchie [Saturday. Rain cats dogs &ct]”, in Lillian F. Shankman, edited by Abigail Burnham Bloom and John Maynard, Anne Thackeray Ritchie: Journals and Letters, Columbus, Oh.: Ohio State University Press, published 1994, →ISBN, page 253:
text: His speciality, by the way, was stealing of umbrellas, and when he entered a Latin Quarter café you saw everybody rush for his parapluie.
ref: 1903 September 4, Robert H[arborough] Sherard, “A Waif of the Latin Quarter”, in T[homas] P[ower] O’Connor, editor, T.P.’s Weekly, volume II, page 438, column 2:
text: And, by the way, a French genius at Paris has constructed a device for the man who forgets his parapluie when he stops at a jag palace or any other place of call.
ref: 1905, Dry Goods Guide, volumes 15–16, page 11:
text: As she looked at him the ship rolled just enough to bring the sunlight across his face, when up popped the comical umbrella, instantly turning its small bearer into a toadstool of enormous proportions. Cocking his parapluie at a rakish angle, he smiled up at the girl, a smile so sunny, so winning and trustful that she cried: / “Oh, I must find out who or what that funny little kid is!”
ref: 1912, Gabrielle E[milie] Jackson, “Sailing Toward the Promised Land”, in Peterkin, New York, N.Y.: Duffield and Company, pages 10–11:
text: Eetlaire (Adolf Hitler to you) may be verbally lambasted by most of those fifty million Frenchmen who “can’t be wrong”, but Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain of Great Britain is the man most discussed these days on the broad boulevards of Paris. / And it’s not entirely his pro-French policies, nor his drooping moustache, nor his buck teeth. It’s his parapluie—or umbrella, in plain English.
ref: 1939 March 1, Milton Bronner, “All Europe Rains Comment On Chamberlain’s Umbrella: In France, It’s Principal Topic of Conversation”, in Wisconsin Rapids Daily Tribune: […], twenty-fifth year, number 7868, Wisconsin Rapids, Wis., page nine, column 6:
text: Sogleich in eigener Person / Fort stürmt er auf die Redaktion. / Des Autors Physiognomie / Bedroht er mit dem Paraplü.
ref: 1965, Wilhelm Busch, translated by Max Born, Klecksel the Painter, New York, N.Y.: Frederick Ungar Publishing Company, →LCCN, page 48:
text: On the march, it began to rain, I had an umbrella, but at 5:51 we copped out for our dinner-date, when just in sight of the sidestreet leading to the U. N., solid with motionless people under their parapluies and bumbershoots; that’s the way it shone back to us, international.
ref: 1972, Hortense Calisher, “Seizures of Love and Work”, in Herself, New York, N.Y.: Arbor House, →ISBN, page 274:
text: Did you know that it is always the taller person who should carry the umbrella—regardless of whose umbrella it is, and regardless of sex? This seemingly sensible diktat creates as many problems as it solves. More than a few tall women might not like the idea of a five-foot-ten-inch male pointing out that actually they’re an inch higher off the ground and would they kindly tote that parapluie?
ref: 1999, The New Yorker, volume 75, page 103:
text: “In wet weather, my good wife used her parapluie to stay dry and keep the fire alive; we managed, thank you.”
ref: 2009, Gerd Asche, chapter 1, in M.W. Fifer M.D.: Healer, Prophet, Fool, Victoria, B.C.: Trafford Publishing, →ISBN:
text: Entering my labyrinth, the earliest memories of ‘History’ at my first school are associated with utter and profound boredom – a hateful redbound book with small print and lacking any illustrations. Goodness knows what we did with it: I can remember nothing (though I can still recall some of the French vocabulary, taught with contrasting imagination and with the help of flash-cards illustrating Madame Souris and her parapluie).
ref: 2013, Beverley Southgate, “In Search of Ariadne’s Thread”, in Alun Munslow, editor, Authoring the Past: Writing and Rethinking History, Abingdon, Oxon; New York, N.Y.: Routledge, →ISBN, page 156:
glosses: An umbrella.