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Updated: May 21, 2025
"Nineteen to-day, is he!" said my uncle Jervas, viewing me languidly through his quizzing-glass. "How confoundedly the years flit! Nineteen and on me soul, our poor youth looks as if he hadn't a single gentlemanly vice to bless himself with!" "Not one, Jervas, my boy," quoth my uncle George, shaking his comely head at me. "Not one, begad, and that's the dooce of it!
"Trenchard he calls himself hereabouts the damnable villain who lives here at Raydon Manor." "A duel!" quoth Anthony, smiling grimly. "If you fight, Perry, I fight; b' God, I'll find somebody to accommodate me one way or another a duel, oh, most excellent! Ha, dooce take me, but you're right, Perry, I never thought o' this.
"Ah, Beverley here's the dooce of a go!" he exclaimed, "that fool of a fellow of mine has actually sent me out to ride in a 'Trone d'Amour' cravat, and I've only just discovered it! The rascal knows I always take the field in an 'Osbaldistone' or 'Waterfall. Now how the dooce can I be expected to ride in a thing like this! Most distressing, by Jove it is!"
Peter, recovering his normal self, said, "You've been awfully good to me, Lord Evelyn. I've behaved very badly to you, I believe. Thanks most awfully for everything. But don't pity me now, because I've all I want." "Happy, are you?" Lord Evelyn looked up at him again, searchingly. "Quite happy." Peter's smile was reassuring. "The dooce you are!" Lord Evelyn murmured.
It is about your characters that I've called to-night. In the language of the schools, what the dooce have you been up to in Mr. Prout's house? It isn't anything to laugh over. He says that you so lowered the tone of the house he had to pack you back to your studies. Is that true?" "Every word of it, Padre." "Don't be flippant, Turkey. Listen to me.
"Posting will cost a dooce of a lot of money," grumbled Rawdon. "We might take Southdown's carriage, which ought to be present at the funeral, as he is a relation of the family: but, no I intend that we shall go by the coach. They'll like it better. It seems more humble " "Rawdy goes, of course?" the Colonel asked. "No such thing; why pay an extra place?
'You cannot. I will tell you soon, and I have much to tell you, said Wilderspin, looking uneasily round at my mother, who did not seem inclined to leave us. 'I will tell you all about her when when you are sufficiently calm. 'Tell me now, I said. 'Gad! this is a strange affair, don't you know? It would puzzle Cyril Aylwin himself, said Sleaford. 'What the dooce does it all mean?
Bosambo formed his royal procession, but there was no occasion for it, for Bones was in no processional mood. "What the dooce do you mean, sir?" demanded a glaring and threatening Bones, his helmet over his neck, his arms akimbo. "What do you mean, sir, by saying I'm married to your infernal aunt?" "Sah," said Bosambo, virtuous and innocent, "I no savvy you I no compreney, sah!
"It seems to me that this diabolical invention has got out of order somehow; I can't make it work any more!" "Perhaps," suggested Dick, who had shown throughout the most unsympathetic cheerfulness, "perhaps it's one of those talismans that only give you one wish, and you've had it, you know?" "Then it's all over!" groaned Paul. "What the dooce am I to do? What shall I do?
"Mr Lorton, I will report you, sir!" was all he said to me directly; but, as he shuffled off to his desk, with the attendance book recording my misdeeds under his arm and his face purple with passion, we all could hear him muttering pretty loudly to himself. "Smudge! Smudge!" he was repeating; "I'll Smudge him, the impudent rascal! I wonder what the dooce he meant by it!
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