from The Century Dictionary.
- Confusedly; in a bustle.
- noun Fluttering haste; swift disorderly movement.
- Rushing headlong; disorderly.
from the GNU version of the Collaborative International Dictionary of English.
- adverb obsolete Confusedly; in a bustle.
from Wiktionary, Creative Commons Attribution/Share-Alike License.
- noun archaic To
hurry; act hurriedly
Sorry, no etymologies found.
Then we were all bustle in the house, which made me keep out of the way, for I walk slow and hate a bustle; but the house was all hurry-skurry, preparing for my new master.
Castle Rackrent 2006
Templemore, we commenced our hurry-skurry just as inclination led — now across the fields — direct over stone walls and running brooks — mere pastime for the cob! — sometimes along the road to Thurles and Holy Cross, even to distant
There had been something grotesquely indecent about the haste of every one concerned: the chaplain, gabbling like a parrot, out of regard for the safety of his own lungs; the hurry-skurry of the diggers, whose thoughts were no doubt running on the size of their gratuities; the openly expressed satisfaction of the few mourners, when they were free to hurry off again, as in hurry they had arrived.
Maurice Guest 2003
Huguenot (hu'ge-not), a French Protestant of the sixteenth century. hurry-skurry (hur'ri-skur'ri), confused bustle. husbandman (huz'band-man), a tiller of the soil, a farmer.
Elson Grammar School Literature v4 William H. Elson
Then all was hurry-skurry in the hospitals; everybody was willing to help, but the effectual organization was not yet ready.
Then it was all hurry-skurry with Betty and her, to get their dark deeds done before their victim's return.
We struggled through long lines of heavy-laden country carts, and swarms of clattering _droskies_, all striving to force their way along with that hurry-skurry that adds to confusion and lessens speed; and we came at last to a long pontoon bridge, over which we crossed the Oka, and beyond which rises the hill-range or ravine, on the top and at the foot of which is built the straggling town of Nijni-Novgorod.
But if you would have a sense of being terribly alone, come from long residence in some quiet country-home on the border of a quiet country-village, into the hurry-skurry of a strange city, just after nightfall.
I don't want any kind of old rubbish of brick and stone to be bundled into walls and partitions, and then plastered over "hurry-skurry."
There was no hurry-skurry to disturb the even tenor of the way but there was not a moment lost, and, while every movement was rapid, there were no false starts made.
My Friends at Brook Farm John Van Der Zee Sears