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Updated: May 15, 2025
He therefore had no science, that is, no knowledge outside his profession but only what is called learning, though tommyrot would be a fitter name for it. He had only the most meager acquaintance with that great fundamental of a sound and sane education, embryology. He knew nothing of what science had already done to destroy all the still current notions about the mystery of life and birth.
"Now, General, will you let me do a little of this talking?" asked Barclay, impatiently. "As I was saying, Jeanette and Neal are sensible, and money isn't going to make fools of them. When the time comes and I'm gone, they'll take the divine responsibility " "The divine tommyrot!" cried the general; "the divine fiddlesticks! Why should they?
Won the oratorical contest. Manager of the football team next season. President of the Dramatic Club. Why?" He did not wait for Jeff to guess the reason. "Because our set runs things and I go after the honors." "But a college ought to be a democracy," Jeff protested. "Tommyrot!
He doesn't b'long to any church, and hardly ever goes, and he says r'ligion is all tommyrot." "Oh, you mean infidel," suggested the pastor, trying hard not to laugh again. "Maybe. His name is really Hartman.
And if you're going to get the Goodwin you'll get it, and there isn't any use stewing over it," replied West severely. "As for me, I'm glad I'm not a grind and don't have to bother my head about such tommyrot. Just sit on the lid of this pesky thing, Joel, will you? I'm afraid that last coat was almost too much for it."
Half an hour later Jeff met his cousin near the chapel and was taken to task. "What's this I hear about your insulting Thomas?" "You have it wrong. He insulted me," Jeff corrected with a smile. "Tommyrot! Why couldn't you treat him right?" "Didn't like to throw him through the window on account of littering up the lawn with broken glass."
"That is just what Percy says," stammered the older woman hastily. "He believes in Braden. He says it's all tommyrot about Marraville paying him to put him out of his misery. My dear, I don't believe there is a more loyal creature on earth than Percy Wintermill. He—" Percy was announced at that instant.
That black hair and dead-white skin and those deep blue eyes of hers are going to make a sensation right off the bat. You'd better look to your laurels, my dear sister." "Tommyrot!" retorted Angie, inelegantly. "She's as awkward as a calf, and hasn't a word to say for herself, though if she'll only continue to keep still, I'm sure we shall all be thankful.
He's entirely flat except his head, which is becomingly round with yellow glass eyes. I carried Dinky inside my tunic always and felt safer with him there. He hangs at the head of my bed now and I feel better with him there. I realize perfectly that all this sounds like tommyrot, and that superstition may be a relic of barbarism and ignorance. Never mind!
"No," said Austen, and added with an illuminating smile, "Mr. Crewe doesn't need any help." "I'm glad you're not," exclaimed the downright Hastings, with palpable relief in his voice that an idol had not been shattered. "I think Humphrey's a fakir, and all this sort of thing tommyrot. He wouldn't get my vote by giving me lemonade and cake and letting me look at his cows.
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