Showing posts with label toad-eater. Show all posts
Showing posts with label toad-eater. Show all posts

Tuesday, 14 August 2012

Genteel sponging



. . . I learned that he was in the diplomatic, which didn’t surprise me, for he was a born toad-eater with a great gift of genteel sponging and an aversion to work.


Flashman on the March, p.10, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Monday, 23 April 2012

A notorious wastrel



When you're a queen of unblemished virtue, devoted to Duty and the high moral tone, and your son and Heir to the Throne is a notorious wastrel who counts all time lost when he ain't stuffing, swilling, sponging off rich toad-eaters and rogering anything in skirts, you're apt to be censorious . . .


Flashman and the Tiger, p.213, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Thursday, 18 August 2011

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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Wednesday, 21 April 2010

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.




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