A WORD, PLEASE — nickname continuity: Next, Professor Aubrey Vellum, with a word that has been carrying a stolen letter for six hundred years. the verdict: Think about the people you love most, and what you actually call them. Hardly any of them go by the name on their birth certificate. There's a Bear, a Bug, a Sully, a Peanut. Somebody gave each of them a nickname, and it stuck better than the real thing. a word, please: Nickname. A word, please. the crack: Picture an English village around the year thirteen hundred, where it seems like half the men are called John. That's a real problem when you shout across a busy market. So people added a second name: John the baker, John with the red hair, John who never stops talking. They called that extra name an eke-name, because eke was an old English word for an addition, something that makes a thing bigger. It's a cousin of the eke in 'eke out a living.' An eke-name was simply an also-name. Now say it the way they did, quickly, all day long: an eke-name, an eke-name. Can you hear where that N wants to go? By the fourteen hundreds, people were hearing 'a neke-name,' and the N had quietly hopped across the gap. the collision: That little N is a stowaway. It belonged to the word 'an,' it climbed aboard the word next door, and nobody ever gave it back. Later the vowel shortened, and neke-name became the nickname we say today. People love to say a nickname is a name that's been 'nicked,' cut down short, or a fake name to fool Old Nick, the devil. Lovely stories, both of them, and neither is true. The real one is better, because ordinary people mishearing each other built this word, and it worked so well that nobody fixed it. The meaning travelled too. It began as a practical label for telling one John from another. Now it's how a grandmother tells you that you're hers. A tool for sorting strangers became proof that you aren't a stranger at all. the glimmer: We don't just inherit our words. We remake them out loud, together, and the ones that last are the ones we kept saying to each other. the exit: That's the word. Give someone an eke-name today, and let them keep the N.