The Court of Peeves, Crotchets & Irks resumes its autumn assizes with a petition from Louis Mason of Glendale, Ariz. He asks for a declaratory judgment on the viability of the subjunctive mood. Is it still alive in English composition?

The court has felt the pulse of the subjunctive annually for the past 25 years, and listened to its breathing and asked it to stick out its tongue, and every year the diagnosis remains unchanged: The subjunctive lives! It survives in half a dozen useful ways. Speaking of conditions contrary to fact, we say, “If I were in your shoes …” We express hope: “The king wishes he were in Scotland fishing tonight.” The subjunctive mood appears in suggestions and proposals: “The menu committee urges that the pudding be basted with gin.”

In such light winds as “be that as it may” and “as it were,” the subjunctive sails sweetly on the waves of cultivated speech. The court wouldn’t pay you 10 cents for that metaphor, but the subjunctive itself is still entitled to respect. There be miles in the old girl yet.

Z. Adam Kepler of Greenville, S.C., moves for an injunction forbidding the use of “less” when “fewer” is grammatically required. He offers in evidence an advertisement for Mayfield ice cream: Its butter pecan contains “less carbs.” The ice cream may be enjoyed, but with regret the motion must be denied.

The court has attempted many times to fashion a ready- to-wear rule on this persistent matter of “less” and “fewer.” No luck. Just as in the real world, one size will not fit all. This is the oversimplified rule: Use “fewer” for countable things and “less” for uncountable things. That rule works for five minutes on a clear day, but for only 10 seconds if it rains. It works for less booze and fewer drinks, but a sentence runs out of gas if we write that it’s “fewer” than 60 miles from Biloxi to Mobile.

Professor Bryan Garner has a more complicated rule: Use “less” for singular nouns, as in “less tequila,” and “fewer” in plural constructions, as in “fewer” margaritas. His rule works in such applications as “less bickering, fewer divorces.” It can produce an unattractive stuffiness, e.g., in a basket limited to “12 items or fewer.” Here “less” is truly more.

The court suggests that writers consult Garner’s “Modern American Usage” and Webster’s “Dictionary of English Usage.” Then, after absorbing their sound advice, use your ear, use your ear, use your ear! You will wind up with less doubt and fewer worries.

Paul Maloney of Cyberspace petitions the court for an expository opinion on adjectives of accuracy. This would require a good deal of exposition, but for starters: In writing about Enron’s annual report, for example, we begin at a bottom range where net income is merely “approximate” or “expected to be.” We move upwardly to “estimated” income, thence to “projected” income, thence to “closely projected” income. As the Internal Revenue Service turns its gelid eye, we provide “corrected” figures. These are followed by “emended” figures, then by figures that are exact figures or precise figures, at last by figures that are audited figures or may-it-please-the-court figures.

“Accuracy” comes to mind in contexts beyond the actuary’s abacus. As the court often has remarked, words have harmonics, penumbras, roots and shadows. Something that is “accurate” may also be faithful, unerring, valid, literal or simply “right,” but each adjective sets off a different echo. Writers must listen as musicians listen. On that encouraging thought, the court takes a brief recess.

James Kilpatrick is a syndicated columnist.