Earie

I could not sit down and write twenty pages describing the appalling, heart-breaking grief of Araminta Susan St. Clair, for the eternal absence of her Fitz-James Eustace Simmons, who has departed this morning not to return till evening; nor twenty tearful stanzas on the death of / “My darling little dearie, / With curling little earie, / With little eye so cheery, / And with limbs ne’er a-weary, / A trotting after me!” / [‘]vich vas a tog!’ as [Joseph] Jefferson said in Rip Van Winkle. No! such things are far beyond my talent. I wil leave novel-writing to women and ministers of the gospel.

Source: wiktionary

Her cunning little earie / Can almost seem to hear ye / Thinking, when she’s near ye,- / Out at Enn-goni-a!

Source: wiktionary

Eh bien, cornegidouille, écoute-moi bien, ſinon ces meſſieurs te couperont les oneilles. Mais, vas-tu m’écouter enfin ? […] Eh ! ſire Cotice, votre oneille, comment va-t-elle ?

Source: wiktionary

We Australians are pretty easy to recognise by our turn of phrase – especially the way that we shorten words and then shove a vowel or two on the end. Fire officer becomes “firie”, tradesperson becomes “tradie”, and a tin of beer gets called a “tinnie”. So lend me your “earies”, and I’ll tell you the story of how “self-portrait photograph” became “selfie”. Yep, we Australians brought this new word into the English language – and I had a small part in this process.

Source: wiktionary