spunk

1847, Anne Brontë, Agnes Grey, ch 17. She showed me the letters of another individual, too, the unfortunate Mr. Green, who had not the courage, or, as she expressed it, the “spunk,…

“I reckon I′m as good as a mule,” he declared. “Maria knows what that desert is as well as we do, but she′s got more spunk than either of us. I'm not going to let any mule show mor…

Between spunk-stained sheet and odorous whim Camera eye-flick-shudder within

Curse the blasted, jelly-boned swines[...] the sniveling, dribbling, dithering palsied pulse-less lot that make up England today. They've got white of egg in their veins, and their…