Bits and Pieces (Essay‪)‬

America these days is a land of vast sizes and quantities, from Big Macs to Hummers. No one seems to write much anymore about misers and their language of cheese-paring smallness. Imagine my delight, therefore, upon hearing a woman the other day declare, "Just a tittle and a jot." She happened to be a copy editor, talking about how much work she had left on a manuscript, so it seemed singularly appropriate. Tittle is a small printing mark (a dot, for instance) to indicate punctuation or stress. Jot is from iota, the ninth letter of the Greek alphabet, represented by i, a tiny letter indeed. Yet "a tittle and a jot" emphasizes a small portion at the same time it ups the ante: a little over and above a tittle, please. In fact, small amounts often come in pairs, from bits and pieces (as in picking up the bits and pieces of your life after breaking up with your boyfriend) to dribs and drabs (after pouring forth copiously for seven days, the oil gusher finally subsided to dribs and drabs). Drib is a back formation from dribble, cousin to the small amounts driblet and drip, whereas drab, like a muddy ooze, probably derives from dregs, which may be why drab also once meant 'prostitute,' deemed the dregs of society. Another minor duo, "a lick and a promise," borrowed from the way a cat washes itself and evocative of a half-hearted swipe with a washcloth, is the Tom Sawyer response to a request to take a bath.