‘Always rich and dishevelled, it (English) is fast becoming very rich and dishevelled.’ William Empson (Seven Types of Ambiguity p 236). Dishevelled – what a wonderful word! It’s one of those pleasant-sounding English words we all use from time to time, readily understood and unquestioned, which refers to an absence, disruption or diminution of a quality described by a never-, or hardly ever, heard adjective. I mean, have you ever found something hevelled, appointing, traught or even ruptive? And as for combobulated... I was reminded of the richness of our language when reading an interview with the admirable Judith Kerr, who's just died. I've admired her and her books for a long time, thanks yet again to my children for introducing me to someone I wouldn't otherwise have known. Surely one of the most shevelled of people and f luent in three languages, she was comparing French and English, the former distinguished by its precision, the latter by its