't Kofschip - Silent Letters at End of Root

Silent Letters At End of Root

The rule is expressed in spelling of the verbs, but is actually related to pronunciation. So if the spelled root ends in a silent letter, this letter should be ignored in applying the rule. This includes also the apostrophe ⟨'⟩ occurring in some verb spellings.

For example:

Infinitive Inf. pronunc. Verb root Past simple Past simple pronunc. Past participle Past ptc. pronunc.
timen (to time) /ˈtɑimə(n)/ time ik timede /ˈtɑimdə/ getimed /ɣəˈtɑimt/
racen (to race) /ˈreːsə(n)/ race ik racete /ˈreːstə/ geracet /ɣəˈreːst/
deleten (to delete) /diˈliːtə(n)/ delete ik deletete /diˈliːtə/ gedeletet /ɣədiˈliːt/
sms'en (to send a text message) /ɛsɛmˈɛsə(n)/ sms ik sms'te /ɛsɛmˈɛstə/ ge-sms't /ɣə(ʔ)ɛsɛmˈɛst/
gsm'en (to phone using a mobile phone) /ɣeːɛsˈɛmə(n)/ gsm ik gsm'de /ɣeːɛsˈɛmdə/ ge-gsm'd /ɣəɣeːɛsˈɛmt/
petanquen (to play pétanque) /peːˈtɑŋkə(n)/ petanque ik petanquete /peːˈtɑŋktə/ gepetanquet /ɣəpeːˈtɑŋkt/

Read more about this topic:  't Kofschip

Famous quotes containing the words silent, letters and/or root:

    Discipline must come through liberty.... We do not consider an individual disciplined only when he has been rendered as artificially silent as a mute and as immovable as a paralytic. He is an individual annihilated, not disciplined.
    Maria Montessori (1870–1952)

    If you are one of the hewers of wood and drawers of small weekly paychecks, your letters will have to contain some few items of news or they will be accounted dry stuff.... But if you happen to be of a literary turn of mind, or are, in any way, likely to become famous, you may settle down to an afternoon of letter-writing on nothing more sprightly in the way of news than the shifting of the wind from south to south-east.
    Robert Benchley (1889–1945)

    The bud of the apple is desire, the down-falling gold,
    The catbird’s gobble in the morning half-awake
    These are real only if I make them so. Whistle
    For me, grow green for me and, as you whistle and grow green,
    Intangible arrows quiver and stick in the skin
    And I taste at the root of the tongue the unreal of what is real.
    Wallace Stevens (1879–1955)