See quotation 1809. Dutch.
1749. At the stoopes (porches) the people spent much of their time, especially on the shady side; and in the evenings they were filled with people of both sexes.—Prof. Kalm’s Visit to Albany: Watson’s ‘Historic Tales of New York,’ p. 18 (1832). [See also pp. 124–5.] (Italics in the original.)
1802. The dead body of a Mr. Thompson was found by a watchman, under a stoop in Murray-Street, New-York, on the morning of the 10th inst. The body had several marks of violence, from which it was supposed he was murdered.—The Balance, Hudson, N.Y., Feb. 16, p. 54/3.
1809. He received the common class of visitors on the stoop before his door, according to the custom of our Dutch ancestors. (Note. Properly spelled stoeb: The porch commonly built in front of Dutch houses, with benches on each side.)—W. Irving, ‘A History of New-York,’ ii. 160 (1812). (Italics in the original.)
1815. He stepped into the stoop before the door, and remarked that I had a fine farm.—Mass. Spy, June 28.
1834. It [a small house] had a high stoop.… He [General Hamilton] was dragged from the stoop and hustled through the street!—Grant Thorburn, ‘Forty Years’ Residence in America,’ p. 39 (Boston).
1837. On the second step of a ‘stoop’ in Broadway sate Quigg.—Knick. Mag., ix. 343 (April).
1850. Many of the maidservants are on the stoops, busy with the broom.—Cornelius Mathews, ‘Moneypenny,’ p. 164 (N.Y.).
1852. Oh, you don’t know what stoop means. It is one of the Dutch words we Gothamites have retained. Well, then, come out on the front piazza.—C. A. Bristed, ‘The Upper Ten Thousand,’ pp. 58–9 (N.Y.). (Italics in the original.)
1853. I mounted the stoop of Mrs. Bayton’s doorway.—Knick. Mag., xlii. 512 (Nov.).
1854. It was built of logs, with a long stoop running along its whole front.—H. H. Riley, ‘Puddleford,’ p. 11 (N.Y.).
1855. My aunt nearly fell down the stoop.—Waverley Mag., n.d.
1868. The Elder wuz snufft out … jest when it begins to be comfortable a settin onto the grocery stoop.—David R. Locke, ‘Ekkoes from Kentucky,’ p. 150.
1908. At the end of the long Dutch “stoop” I found the wands of the snowberry, whose tiny flowers have the odor and color of the trailing arbutus, and whose waxen berries reminded me of the crimson “buckberry” of Southern fields.—Eliza C. Hall, ‘Aunt Jane of Kentucky,’ p. 258.
