[1700–10; < L quid nunc what now?]

What a treasure-trove to these venerable quidnuncs, could they have guessed the secret which Hepzibah and Clifford were carrying along with them! —— Nathaniel Hawthorne, The House of the Seven Gables

But beside the farm on which she roamed ran a little footpath. And you know what footpaths bring. Behold, then, striding our way, a sticked and knitted-hatted quidnunc in walking-boots and thick red socks, a rambling-map, sealed against the elements, around his neck, and a sufficiency of lunch kept fresh inside a ball of silver foil kept fresher still inside a plastic box kept fresher yet inside a backpack. Hey ho, let's stop and eat.--It may be lunchtime, or it may be the power of suggestion, for the lunch that the quidnunc carries wrapped like a Russian doll upon his back is a ham sandwich and a pork pie, and your thoughts are bound to turn to ham and pork when you espy 847Y grunting on the other side of the hedgerow. Pig, pig, snap! —— Howard Jacobson; I Pity the Poor Porkers. Damn the Swine that Gave Them that Fever; Independent Argument, 30 September 2000