United States or Syria ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Don't make a lark of me, hang it, Poyntz," said Foker, turning red, and with tears almost in his eyes, "you know what I mean: it's those what's-his-names in Homer, you know. I never said I was a good scholar." "And nobody ever said it of you, my boy," Mr.
Then the remarkable theologian drew a heavy sigh of gladness, and passed into torpor again. Tom Lennard, in a stage whisper which was calculated to soothe a sick man much as the firing of cannon might, said "Well, of all the what's-his-names, that beats every book that ever was."
Misteh what's-his-names he says something to de docteh, an' den dey goes afteh de cobwebs, suah 'nough. 'Tain' bleedin' no mo', missy. He's mostes' neah doin' we'y fine. Co'se, he cain' walk fo' sev'l days wiv dem laigs o' his'n, but " "Then, in heaven's name, how are we to get to Edelweiss?" "He c'n ride, cain't he? Wha's to hindeh him?" "Quite right. He shall ride inside the coach.
"To what degraded depths have you sunken! I find you here hob-a-nobbing with thingummybobs and what's-his-names." "Here, I say, hold on!" interrupted the Archæopteryx. "If you mean us, you know, we are " "Thingummybobs and what's-his-names," repeated the Court Glover, waving his hand contemptuously.
"Don't make a lark of me, hang it, Poyntz," said Foker, turning red, and with tears almost in his eyes, "you know what I mean: it's those what's-his-names in Homer, you know. I never said I was a good scholar." "And nobody ever said it of you, my boy," Mr.
You know that, my dear, perfectly well. He was very respectful, exceedingly respectful, when he declared, as you were a witness to; still at the same time, if I am to be persecuted in this way, if vegetable what's-his-names and all kinds of garden-stuff are to strew my path out of doors, and gentlemen are to come choking up our chimneys at home, I really don't know upon my word I do NOT know what is to become of me.
There were the same unfinished sentences, ending in a ps ps ps uttered between the teeth. "What's-his-names" and "What-d'ye-call-'ems" at every turn, a sort of lazy, bored, aristocratic stammer, in which one divined profound contempt for the vulgar art of speech.
We all resort to "what's-his-names," and "thing-o'-my-jigs," on occasion, in our efforts to discover within us the name in question. And there are good physiological reasons for this.
"I feel," she said, eyes closed, "as if I had been in a pagan temple where they worship oracles and what's-his-names. What time is it? I haven't an idea. Dear, dear, I want to get home and feel as if my feet were on land and water again. I want some strong sleep and a good sound cup of coffee, and then I shall know what's actually what." To St.
Word Of The Day