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Updated: May 21, 2025
A shout, quick and sharp, brought him to his feet, a stiffly outstretched hand pointed to the waters. "What the dooce " demanded Bones indignantly, and looked over the side.... He saw the pitiful thing that rolled slowly in the swift current, and the homely face of Bones hardened.
I'll have to make a dooce of an example of you yes, by Heaven!" Bosambo heard and imperfectly understood. He looked about for a likely tree where an unruly chief might sway with advantage to the community. "You're a bad, bad boy," said Bones, shaking his head; "tell him." "Yes, sah!" said Bosambo. "Tell him he's fined ten dollars."
'So I have too, replied the captain; 'and I've never told my own since the day I tore the title page out of my Bowditch and flung the damned thing into the sea. But I'll tell it to you, boys. John Davis is my name. I'm Davis of the Sea Ranger. 'Dooce you are! said Hush. 'And what was she? a pirate or a slyver?
"What the dooce is all this about hey?" demanded Lieutenant Tibbetts fiercely, and Iberi, doubly uneasy at the sound of an unaccustomed language, stood on one leg in his embarrassment. "Lord, the thief Bosambo " he began, and told the story. "Lord," he concluded humbly, "I say all this though Bosambo is your relation since you have secretly married his sister's cousin."
But the sort of whilk we noo speak, are a waur sort a'thegither; for they come to the inside o' yer hoose, o' yer verra chaumer, an' hing oot their lang lugs to hear what ye carena to be hard save by a dooce frien' or twa ower a het tum'ler. At the same moment the door opened, and a man entered, who was received with unusual welcome. 'Bless my sowl! said the president, rising; 'it's Mr. Lammie!
Thus admonished, Barnabas presently succeeded in arousing the somnolent Slingsby, who, lifting a drowsy head, blinked sleepily, and demanded in an injured tone: "Wha' the dooce it was all about, b'gad?"
The chorister had ceased his song. Through the half-stuffed dormer, light streamed in on the white-washed wall, the cobwebs, rafters, and Polly in the corner, shining demure. "Now where the dooce has that boy got?" muttered the Parson, looking round. Kit pointed. In the darkest corner, under the slope of the roof, stood an apple-barrel.
Excusable! Why, what the dooce do you mean, sir? You're taking the other side now!" "This is not the language of penitence, Bultitude," said poor Mr. Blinkhorn, disheartened and bewildered. "Remember, you have put off the Old Man now!" "I'm not likely to forget that," said Paul; "I only wish I could see my way to putting him on again!" "You want to be your old self again?" gasped Mr. Blinkhorn.
Where the dooce is our American friend? Down, Bowser! Down! Blawst the dog! Ho! ho! Look there, Tompkins! I say! Here's a go!" There was a tramping of feet, a knocking about of loose things in the room, and a chorus of familiar voices in the adjoining passage. It is needless to say that the party of sporting Englishmen had arrived from Reykjavik. "Oh-h-a!
"Throw him out!" "Pitch the fellow downstairs, somebody!" "Jove!" exclaimed the Marquis, rising and buttoning his coat, "if nobody else will, I'll have a try at him myself. Looks a promising cove, as if he might fib well. Come now, my good fellow, you must either get out of here or put 'em up, you know, dooce take me, but you must!"
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