Wednesday, October 31, 2012

I don't think Satan himself would ask a better parentage

"But Onslow plays well," said another.

"When he's in luck, sir," said the Colonel. "Let him always have the winning horse to ride, and I don't say he 'll lose the saddle; but Maraffi would win on a donkey."

 "Is he a Russian?" asked one.

"No, sir, he 's worse; he 's a Greek. I know everything about him. His mother was a Finlander, and the father a Cephalonian. I don't think Satan himself would ask a better parentage."

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Broomberg, the Finlander

Now, Staysail was always a good laugher, but at this tale he fairly yelled with laughter until everything jingled in the cabin, and the tears ran down his cheeks.

The mate never moved a muscle.

"That awful fore-cabin, sir!" he said. "It's in there, and Broomberg, the Finlander, declares that if you don't land him and his mates at Bergen they'll seize the ship and sail for Aberdeen."

"But why on earth don't you open the fore-cabin?"

"Oh, that's where it is, sir! The key is lost, or else the professor has it."

Gordon Stables: Crusoes of the Frozen North

Friday, October 19, 2012

A roomy, clean, Finnish hut

Vronsky was staying in a roomy, clean, Finnish hut, divided into two by a partition. Petritsky lived with him in camp too. Petritsky was asleep when Vronsky and Yashvin came into the hut.

"Get up, don't go on sleeping," said Yashvin, going behind the partition and giving Petritsky, who was lying with ruffled hair and with his nose in the pillow, a prod on the shoulder.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Sergeant Jon Svartberg, of the first regiment of Finland horse,

And the worthy man gently ascended the little eminence. One half of the huge oak still stood erect, surmounted by rich green foliage—the other moiety had been riven away by the lightning's power—and the whole interior of the tree was exposed to view like an open cupboard. It was melancholy to behold this forest monarch thus rent and overthrown, his verdant crown defaced and trailing in the dust. But this reflection found no place in the minds of either clergyman or student—their attention was engrossed by a variety of objects that lay in a confused heap in the cavity of the oak. Upon near examination these proved to consist of the remains of a human skeleton, which, to judge from the position of the bones, must have stood upright in the tree, its arms extended upwards. A pair of large iron spurs, several nails and brass buckles, a long sword, nearly consumed by rust, pieces of iron and brass belonging to a dragoon's helmet, some coins of the reign of Charles Gustavus, and finally a broad gold finger-ring, were also discovered. Upon the last the initials J. S. were plainly legible; and on the hilt of the sword, as on some of the fragments of metal, were the letters F.R.F.D., standing for First Regiment Finland Dragoons.

CHRISTIAN WINTHER: THE HORSE-DEALER—A TALE OF DENMARK.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Or was it you shot the lord lieutenant of Finland between you?

The professor, returning by way of the files, swept his hand across Stephen's and Mr O'Madden Burke's loose ties.

--Paris, past and present, he said. You look like communards.

--Like fellows who had blown up the Bastile, J. J. O'Molloy said in quiet mockery. Or was it you shot the lord lieutenant of Finland between you? You look as though you had done the deed. General Bobrikoff.

Ulysses (novel) by James Joyce


Frozen Lapland, rude and churlish Finland

 I never addressed myself, in the language of decency and friendship, to a woman, whether civilized or savage, without receiving a decent an...