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Updated: May 15, 2025
"This daring tomfoolery! If he'd come back to old Rosecrans with his story about a few pieces of artillery posted on a ridge, Rosy would want to know why the d l he didn't find out what was behind them." "He showed great experience a few weeks ago," continued the Sergeant, "when the Western fellows let off one of their ground blasts.
Father was in Bridgenorth, and Giles with him, and the other men were not at hand, and we had to put up with their tomfoolery, which soon drove mother and Lucy from the room: but if you had been there we could have contrived to fling them out between us." "I would have done my best," I said. "How is the water?" he asked.
Give 'em a touch of the various a little travel and a little rest, a little tomfoolery along with the tragedies of keeping house, a little petting after the blowing-up, a little upsetting and a little jostling around and everybody in the game will have chips added to their stack by the play." Therefore a woman loved him.
What oriental tomfoolery is bamboozling you? The truth!” he cried, staring at him with eyes, half of triumph, half of impatience, “the truth! Jove help the boy!—the truth! can truth pour me out a cup of melilotus? can truth crown me with flowers? can it sing to me? can it bring Glyceris to me? drop gold into my girdle? or cool my brows when fever visits me?
Is there no other ancestral tomfoolery, no other of Superstition's patent Aylwinian soul-salves for the philosophical Nature-worshipper and apostle of rationalism to fly to? Her name was Winifred. 'Yis; don't I say 'er name wur Winifred? said the woman, who thought I was addressing her. 'You're jist like a poll-parrit with your "Winifred, Winifred, Winifred."
"Here I've traipsed out here for nothin' this time of night. I call you all a set of numskulls. I don't call the young one very bright, either. Couldn't tell where she lived, nor what her father's name was. Jest said it was papa, and her name was peshious, or some such tomfoolery. I advise you to tag her if she is in the habit of runnin' away.
I want to say men of honour. Are you?" "Come! None of that," said the officer impatiently. "Let us have that friend of yours." "What do you think I am?" asked Almayer, fiercely. "You are drunk, but not so drunk as not to know what you are doing. Enough of this tomfoolery," said the officer sternly, "or I will have you put under arrest in your own house." "Arrest!" laughed Almayer, discordantly.
Now, it certainly is true that a man has a perfect right to dress his hair in this fashion, or in any fashion he pleases; but a more absurd appearance than the blue ribbons gave to his broad, brown, beardless face, it is impossible to imagine. The solemn dignity, too, with which he carried off this tomfoolery was not the least laughable part of it.
All she need have done was to hold on to something while remarking to the hero: "If you'll stop shouting and jumping about for just ten seconds, and give me a chance to observe that I am your maiden aunt from Devonshire, all this tomfoolery can be avoided." That would have ended it. As a matter of fact that did end it five minutes past eleven. It hadn't occurred to her to say it before.
"I don't say whether it is tomfoolery, as you call it, or not; but whatever it is, you began it." "Yes; yes. I see. You punish me for my unpremeditated impertinence in suggesting that you are devoted to Lady Mabel by the premeditated impertinence of pretending to be devoted to me." "Stop a moment. I cannot follow that." Then she laughed. "I will swear that I did not intend to be impertinent."
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