"Bowse" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... instance, and our brave Mister Lynch. I have it already written down for Fitz to copy into the logbook. 'During the fighting, James Lynch, second mate, was stabbed by one of the mutineers; but owing to the darkness and confusion his assailant was not recognized.' That's how the log will read when we bowse into port. And—'During the fighting, the sailor, Newman, attempted to escape from custody, and was shot by the captain.' You see, Roy, everything shipshape! A line for each in the log—and two loose ends ...
— The Blood Ship • Norman Springer
... port that he ran away from, and left scarce begun. But he's safe now, and here a' comes"(for the chair was again lowered, and Sir Arthur made fast in it, without much consciousness on his own part)"here a' comesBowse away, my boys! canny wi' hima pedigree of a hundred links is hanging on a tenpenny towthe whole barony of Knockwinnock depends on three plies of hemprespice finem, respice funemlook to your endlook to a rope's end.Welcome, ...
— The Antiquary, Complete • Sir Walter Scott
... who was not at all in the humour of relishing such an impertinent preamble, interrupted him in this place, saying, with a peevish accent, "Pshaw! pshaw! brother, there's no occasion to bowse out so much unnecessary gun; if you can't bring your discourse to bear on the right subject, you had much better clap a stopper on your tongue, and bring yourself up, d'ye see; I was told you had ...
— The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle, Volume I • Tobias Smollett
... mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host's Canary wine? Or are fruits of Paradise Sweeter than those dainty pies Of venison? O generous food! Drest as though bold Robin Hood 10 Would, with his maid Marian, Sup and bowse from horn ...
— Keats: Poems Published in 1820 • John Keats
... shouted the tall gypsy; "it is many a long day since my old Mort slapped a gallant's face for such an affront. But here come our messmates. Good evening, my mumpers; make your bows to this gentleman who has come to bowse with us to-night. 'Gad, we'll show him that old ale's none the worse for keeping company with the moon's darlings. Come, sit down, sit down. Where's the cloth, ye ill-mannered loons, and the knives and platters? Have we no holiday customs for strangers, think ye? Mim, my cove, ...
— The Disowned, Complete • Edward Bulwer-Lytton |
