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Thinking it now high time to retire with my booty, I asked if anybody would take my place, and made a notion to rise; upon which an old Gascon, who sat opposite to me, and of whom I had won a little money, started up with fury in his looks, crying, "Restez, foutre, restez! il faut donner moi mon ravanchio!"

If the ministry have thought fit to lay you aside, I suppose they have their own reasons for so doing; and you ought to remember, that you still live on the bounty of this nation. At these words, the chevalier in green started up in a great passion, and laying his hand on the hilt of his hanger, exclaimed, "Ah! foutre!"

"Ah! foutre, yes!" continued the taller of the two as he plied his jaws, "it was no laughing matter there! You ought to have seen it, tell him how it was, Coutard." And the little man told his story with many gestures, describing figures on the air with his bread. "I was washing my shirt, you see, while the rest of them were making soup.

At this O'Brien declared that he was a liar, and a cowardly foutre, that he had struck him with the back of his sabre, which he would not have dared do if he had not been a prisoner; adding, that all he requested was satisfaction for the insult offered to him, and appealed to the officers whether, if it were refused, the lieutenant's epaulets ought not to be cut off his shoulders.

With the Renaissance and the widened world of modern thought Africa came no less suddenly with her new-old gift. Shakespeare's "Ancient Pistol" cries: A foutre for the world and worldlings base! I speak of Africa and golden joys! He echoes a legend of gold from the days of Punt and Ophir to those of Ghana, the Gold Coast, and the Rand.

The Englishman on the other hand, grasping his cane cried, "Don't foutre me, sirrah, or by G d I'll knock you down."

He looked at the beds, perceived at once that he had been duped, went to the open window, and then exclaimed, "Sacre Dieu! Ils m'ont eschappes et je ne ne suis plus corporal. Foutre! a la chasse!" He rushed out of the room, and in a few minutes afterwards we heard him open the street door, and go away.

When de king of France ride out in de coach royale wid de supeerb horses, and harness shining so bright all vun like gold, if he run over one soldier, you tink he going stop for dat? No, sacra foutre! he ride on so, all one like if nothing at all been happen. Jaun foutre de soldier! let him prenez garde for himself; by gar the grand Monarque no mind dat.

"Sacre Dieu!" replied the nettled count, starting and gaping as though he would have swallowed a young alligator "de Briteesh fight like de diable! Jaun foutre de Briteesh! when they been known for fight like de diable?

Jaun foutre de soldier! what dey good for but for be kill? dat deir trade. You give-a vun poor dog soldier, two, three, four penny a day, he go fight he get kill. Well den, what dat? By gar he only get what he HIRE for." "But pardon me, Monsieur le count, we can't spare them." "Vat! no spare de soldier! de GRAND MONARQUE no spare de soldier? O mon Dieu!