(Scottish) To fondle or caress.
* 1788', , ''To '''Dawt on Me'', in 2004 , ''The Complete Works of Robert Burns , Part Two,
* c.18thC , in 1976, Thomas Crawford (editor), Love, Labour, and Liberty: the eighteenth-century Scottish lyric ,
- To dawt' on me, and me sae young, / Wi' his fause heart and flatt'ring tongue, / That is the thing you shall never see, / For an auld man shall never ' dawt on me.
* c.1882-1896 , ,
- Let him kiss her, clap her, and dawt her, / And gie her benevolence due, / And that will a thrifty wife mak her, / And sae I'll bid farewell to you.
- He courted her and he brought her hame, / An thought she would prove a thrifty dame. / She could nether spin nor caird, / But sit in her chair and dawt the laird.
Eye dialect or leet spelling of hot.
* 1896, , Break O’ Day , Ayer Publishing (1969), ISBN 0836930630, page 46,
* 2005, Lauren Mechling and Laura Moser, The Rise and Fall of a 10th-Grade Social Climber , Graphia Books, ISBN 0618555196, pages 86–87,
- “[…] Oh, ’t is, eh? Well, I waant to know — kind o’ hawt in here, ain’t it? Phew!” Again the orange silk handkerchief waved clouds of suffocating musk.
* 2006, Robert Eversz, Zero to the Bone: A Nina Zero Novel , Simon and Schuster, ISBN 0743288688, page 24,
- “Mistah,” I drawled, switching on the Texan twang I perfected not in Houston but as a child in New York watching Dallas'' reruns with my dad. “Ah’m tahrubly sawhruh, but won’t ya tell us what on ''er-yuhth'' we’re a-doin’ wrong?” ¶ […] “We were just having a nice cool refray-yush-munt, Officer—isn’t it so ''hawt ?”
High; in later use , eye dialect spelling of haut or haute.
* c''1560, "Proude Wyues Pater noster", in William Carew Hazlitt (ed.), ''Remains of the Early Popular Poetry of England , J.R. Smith (1866),
- A few of the comments were marginally pervy, but most were touchingly supportive messages. Ur soooo Hawt !!!'' One comment read. ''I can’t believe ur not gonna be a ***.
* a''1900, , "High Finance", in ''Mr. Dooley’s Philosophy , R. H. Russell (1902),
- Amen —sayd the other, I pray god it be so, / For ye haue good ynoughe, this I do knowe well, / Of good marchaundise, so mote I the, / As any is here in this countre to sell, / For his degre; but he is a frayde / That he sholde passe his state or loke to hawt , / Than behynde your backes it shulde be sayde, / Yf he fare amyss, that it were all your fawt.
* 2002, , Moving Pictures , HarperCollins, ISBN 0-06-102063-X, page 60,
- […] ‘Well,’ says I, ‘Cassidy,’ I says, ‘ye’ve been up again th’ pa-apers call hawt finance,’ I says. ‘What th’ divvle’s that?’ says he. ‘Well,’ says I, ‘it ain’t burglary, an’ it ain’t obtaining money be false pretinses, an’ it ain’t manslaughter,’ I says. ‘It’s what ye might call a judicious seliction fr’m th’ best features iv thim ar-rts,’ I says. […]
- On it was written, in shaky handwriting: ¶ After thys perfromans, Why Notte Visit / Harga’s Hous of Ribs, / For the Best inne Hawt' Cuisyne ¶ “What's ' hawt cuisyne?” said Victor.
* 1880, , ''Heroines of Fiction , Harper and Brothers (1903),
* 1896, , "When Malindy Sings", in Joan R. Sherman, African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773–1927 , Courier Dover Publications (1997), ISBN 0486296040, pages 64–65,
- She looked up suddenly and took a quick breath, as if to resume, but her eyes fell before his, and she said, in a tone of half-soliloquy: ‘I ’ave so much troub’ wit dad hawt .’ She lifted one little hand feebly to the cardiac region, and sighed softly, with a dying languor.
* 2004, Oliver T. Beard, Bristling with Thorns , Kessinger Publishing, ISBN 1417915277, page 163,
- […] / But fu’ real melojous music, / Dat jes’ strikes yo’ hawt and clings, / Jes’ you stan’ an’ listen wif me, / When Malindy sings.
- “Deah mistus, cry way down in you hawt , but you’ll git inter mistrouble sho’ if dey sees teahs for de po’ Yanks. Dat yo’ will, honey.”
(obsolete) Anything. ()
* c''1500, anonymous, "Robin Hood and the Potter", in Francis James Child, ''English and Scottish Ballads , Sampson Low (1861),
- “Her het ys merey to be,” seyde Roben, / “For a man that had hawt to spende; / Be mey horne we schall awet / Yeff Roben Hode be ner hande.”