The coolest fish

      If you’ve read Tom Brown you may remember a worthy called Crab Jones, of whom Hughes said that he was the coolest fish in Rugby, and if he were tumbled into the moon this minute he’d pick himself up without taking his hands out of his pockets. Bob Napier always reminded me of Crab, in the Sikh War, the Mutiny, China, and along the frontier: the same sure, unhurried style, the quiet voice, the methodical calm that drove his more excitable subordinates wild. He was also the best engineer in the army, and the most successful commander of troop I ever knew.

Flashman on the March, p.49, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.



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True words

…the only fly in the ointment as I rolled down to Calcutta had been the discovery that during my absence from England some scribbling swine had published his reminiscences of Rugby School, with me as the villain of the piece. A vile volume entitled Tom Brown’s Schooldays, on every page of which the disgusting Flashy was to be found torturing fags, shirking, toadying, lying, whining for mercy, and boozing himself to disgraceful expulsion — every word of it true, and all the worse for that.


Flashman and the Angel of the Lord, p.23, Harper Collins, 1995.



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Well, it worked for Shane Warne

…even Brown pumped me by the hand and slapped me on the shoulder, yelling ‘Bowled, oh well bowled, Flashy!’ (You see the moral: cover ever strumpet in London if you’ve a mind to, it don’t signify so long as you can take wickets).

Flashman's Lady, p.31, Pan edition, 1979.

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No end of a cad

‘Tell the truth,’went on this amazing oaf, ‘when we were youngsters I didn’t care for you above half, Flashman. Well, you treated us fags pretty raw, you know – of course, I guess it was just thoughtlessness, but, well, we thought you no end of a cad, and – and … a coward, too.’ He stirred uncomfortably, and I wondered was he going to fart.

Flashman's Lady, p.16, Pan edition, 1979.

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A word on tweed coats

…he had that manly, open-air reek about him that I can’t stomach, what with his tweed coat (I’ll bet he rubbed his horse down with it) and sporting cap; not my style at all.

Flashman's Lady, p.15, Pan edition, 1979.

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Memories of Tom Brown

…oh, aye, that brought back Master Brown to memory sharp enough. He was the mealy, freckled little villain who tried to steal my sweepstake ticket, damn him – a pious, crawling little toad-eater who prayed like clockwork and was forever sucking up to Arnold and Brooke – ‘yes, sir, please, sir, I’m a bloody Christian, sir’…

Flashman in the Great Game, p.334, Pan edition, 4th printing, 1979.

Tags:
Flashman, Flashman quotes, Tom Brown.