Showing posts with label Scotch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scotch. Show all posts

Tuesday, 22 May 2012

Titled fury



      Talk about a woman scorned; their fury ain’t in it with a Scotch Baronet’s wounded self-esteem.



Flashman and the Tiger, p.240, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Friday, 13 January 2012

Uneasliy adrift



      Ulysses S. Grant never called for help in his life, but just then I seemed to catch a glimpse within the masterful commander and veteran statesman, of the thin-skinned Scotch yokel from Ohio tanyard uneasily adrift in an old so-superior world which he’d have liked to despise but couldn’t help feeling in awe of.


Flashman and the Tiger, p.19, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Wednesday, 13 July 2011

Scotch nemesis



There was one quiet Lancer, though, a black-whiskered Scotch nemesis who said never a word, and played the bull fiddle for his recreation. He caught my eye then, and again fifteen years later when he led the march to Peking, the most terrible killing gentleman you every saw: Hope Grant.


Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.274, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.


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Thursday, 4 June 2009

That funny Scotch word



…she sobbed and clung to me, calling me her ‘jo’ – it was that funny Scotch word, which she hadn’t used for years, since she had grown so grand, that made me believe her – almost.



Flashman at the Charge, p.49, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Friday, 2 February 2007

Genteel boisterous things

The young women are mostly great, genteel boisterous things who are no doubt bedworthy enough if your taste runs that way. (One acquaintance of mine who had a Scotch clergyman's daughter described it as like wrestling with a sergeant of dragoons.)





Flashman, p. 51, Pan edition, 12th printing, 1979.

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