Would an elderly American put out the light?

To further illuminate the subject--

I'd forgotten about "douse the light." I've certainly heard that one used. Is it well-known?

It appears to have come from nautical slang "douse the glim." I'd run into that phrase before, but just now looked up the origin. "Douse" was sailor slang "To strike or lower in haste; to slacken suddenly; as, douse the topsail." By extension it meant to extinguish. "Glim" was a lantern or candle.

I like this from an 1828 schoolbook.
> On emerging from the bush every man was ordered to douse his glim on pain of being run through, Here the phrase "douse his glim" implies extinguish his torch, a figure familiar to sailors, but obscure to the generality of readers

"Douse his glim" could also mean give him a black eye or even [ut his eye out.

I would douse a fire but not douse a candle - I would never douse the (electric) light. I think douse includes a liquid to put out the flame/fire, not something I would do with candles and certainly not recommended with electricity either.

(Carry on, this is so enlightening. No, seriously though.)

In Texas we would often turn out the lights.

"Dout", mentioned by nutrax above, is from "do out". Comparable to "don" and "doff".

It's an anglicism.

Remember the line from Elvis Costello's song ALISON, "I think someone had better put out the big light..."?

I climbed up the door, and opened the stairs;
I said my pajamas and put on my pray'rs,
I turned off the bed and crawled into the light
And all because you kissed me (kiss) goodnight.

excerpt from 1940s pop song

Edited by: psw

What are you saying is an anglicism, plan b? "Put out the light" is perfectly good American.

If it were a candle, Shakespeare would put it out or quench it.
Othello, at Desdemona's candle-lit bedside:

Put out the light, and then put out the light:
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
I can again thy former light restore,
Should I repent me:--but once put out thy light,
Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature,
I know not where is that Promethean heat
That can thy light relume.

Tony Martin and Fran Warren singing psw's song. I love Fran Warren, but that song was a big step on the downhill slope of post-war popular music, which reached rock bottom with "How Much Is That Doggy in the Window," 1953.

Fran Warren singing A Sunday Kind of Love with Claude Thornhill and his orchestra, so that "I Said My Pajamas" won't be all you know of her.

When we rented tuxedos for my high school prom, one of the colors you get your cummerbund in was "Tony Martin Blue".