In his book ''Stickin': The Case for Loyalty,'' James Carville seemed pleased that he had been called ''Clinton's gunsel'' by the columnist Richard Cohen. ''I'm sure I am one,'' the Clinton loyalist and henchman observed in a footnote. ''I just don't know what it is.''
Filling those voids in vocabulary is the scholarly public service demanded by readers of this column.
American moviegoers first became familiar with the word when spoken by Humphrey Bogart, playing Dashiell Hammett's hard-boiled private detective, Sam Spade, in ''The Maltese Falcon.'' Bogie looked contemptuously at the young bodyguard played by Elisha Cook Jr. and told Sydney Greenstreet, ''Keep that gunsel away from me.''
Most readers of Black Mask magazine in 1929, where the story first appeared, and moviegoers in the 1940's thought that gunsel was a variant of ''gunman.'' It is not; in a 1965 article, the mystery writer Erle Stanley Gardner revealed why Hammett used it.
The editor of Black Mask, Joseph Shaw, was on guard against the use of vulgarisms by his writers. Hammett, eager to slip one by, had a character describe his activity as ''on the gooseberry lay,'' tramp lingo for ''stealing clothes from clotheslines,'' its connotation larcenous but not vulgar.
''Shaw wrote Hammett telling him that he was deleting the 'gooseberry lay' from the story,'' Gardner recalled, ''and that Black Mask would never publish anything like that. But he left the word gunsel because Hammett had used it so casually that Shaw took it for granted that the word pertained to a hired gunman. Actually, gunsel, or gonzel, is a very naughty word with no relation whatever to a bodyguard.''
The term in tramp slang is derived from the Yiddish gendzl, or ''gosling''; the young goose symbolized a homosexual boy. An earlier use was defined in a 1933 American Speech as ''Gonzel, Catamite'' (a corruption of the name of Jupiter's cupbearer, Ganymede).
''All the writers of the hard-boiled school of realism,'' noted Gardner, ''started talking about a gunsel as the equivalent of a gunman. . . . The aftereffects of that joke are still seen in American murder stories.''
And in columns by pundits who mean no such thing. And in books by impervious loyalists.