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Updated: May 1, 2025
"Good; here is an image: 'tis my patron saint." "Heaven forbid! That were profanation." "Pshaw! 'twill rub off, will't not?" "Ay, but it goes against me to take such liberty with a saint," objected the sorcerer. "Fiddlestick!" said the divine. "To be sure by putting it on his holiness will show your reverence it is no Satanic art." "Mayhap 'twas for that I did propose it." said the cure subtly.
"Fiddlestick, woman, with your haunted Tower!" said the magistrate, who was apt soon to lose his patience; "I suspect that you and your one-armed companion there, who looks as scared as if he had a real goblin at his heels, have been leaving some door or window open by which these ghosts, as you call them, have found an entrance, and if they have not got out by the same way they came in they must still be somewhere about the building, and you must be held responsible for any mischief they may commit you hear me, sirrah!"
'Content and fiddlestick! said the Squire, in a rage. 'Brother Mountmeadow, said the Doctor, in a low tone, to his colleague, 'I have private duties to perform to this family. Pardon me if, with all deference to your sounder judgment and greater experience, I myself accept the prisoner's offer.
"For five-and-thirty years," she said, and with great justice, "I never have seen the individual who has dared in my own house to question my authority. I have nourished a viper in my bosom." "A viper a fiddlestick!" said Miss Sharp to the old lady, who was almost fainting with astonishment. "You took me because I was useful. There is no question of gratitude between us.
The usher shouted "Silence!" with tremendous energy, and before the sound had died away James was addressing the Court in a clear and vigorous voice, conscious that he was a thorough master of his case, and the words to state it in would not fail him. Fiddlestick, Q.C., had saved him!
William Oke looked puzzled for a moment, and glanced at his wife, who continued to lie listless on her sofa. "There is a press full of clothes belonging to the family," he answered dubiously, apparently overwhelmed by the desire to please his guests; "but but I don't know whether it's quite respectful to dress up in the clothes of dead people." "Oh, fiddlestick!" cried the cousin.
It looks as if the fairies were planting little shining baby poplar trees and watering them with liquid light." "Liquid fiddlestick!" said George. He had been to school, so he knew that these were only the Aurora Borealis, or Northern Lights. And he said so. "But what is the Rory Bory what's-its-name?" asked Jane. "Who lights it, and what's it there for?"
For Fiddlestick, Q.C., who, it will be remembered, was one of the leaders for the defendants, had been watching his unfortunate antagonist, till, realising how sorry was his plight, a sense of pity filled his learned breast.
"You remember!" repeated the Angel. "Yes; you remember the day when you and Tom hung me on the Christmas tree. You were a sweet little girl then, with blue eyes and yellow curls. You believed the Christmas story and loved Santa Claus. Then you were simple and affectionate and generous and happy." "Fiddlestick!" Miss Terry tried to say. But the word would not come.
"There was a young gentleman, not like a prisoner either, only I fancied under some restraint; and I brought him a better stoup of wine than I brought the rest. Poor gentleman! he seemed downhearted, or like one crossed in love." "Crossed in a fiddlestick!" said the bluff old landlord: "your woman's head is ever running on love." "Then it does not run on you, I am sure," retorted Robin.
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