san fairy ann

“[…] It seems scrounging for fuel ’ad reached such a pitch in the village […] But our washing ’ad to be done, ’an I thought if I got the whole of this football team scrounging they might find something as everyone else ’ad overlooked.[…]” / “‘Very well,’ says I, ‘San fairy ann. Napoo [i.e., n’y a plus] washing—napoo ball.’[…]”

‘Very well,’ says I, ‘it doesn't matter. No more washing—no more ball.’

1920 March 10, “Won on the Posts. (With the British Army in France.)”, in Punch, or The London Charivari, volume CLVIII, London: […] Bradbury, Agnew & Co., […], →OCLC, page 185, column 1

We stood to attention for a seeming eternity while the Adjutant, a runt-like little Guards captain, proceeded at a snail's pace along the ranks, closely attended by the dreaded R.S.M. Copp. […] His [Copp's] choicest utterance was 'I've had enough of your San-Fairy-Ann [ça ne me fait rien] attitude!' – was this an echo of 1914-18 or of our earlier wars against the French?

1997, Christopher Hurst, “A Taste of Hell”, in The View from King Street: An Essay in Autobiography, London: Thalia Press, →ISBN, book I (The Pre-history of a Publisher), page 123

Occasionally, when he has had too much to drink, he'll give voice to his disappointments, but Sarah only smiles at that and blows him a kiss and says, San Fairy Ann, dear, San Fairy Ann, and he will give up trying to explain.

2002, Melanie McGrath, chapter 1, in Silvertown: An East End Family Memoir, London: Fourth Estate, HarperCollinsPublishers, →ISBN, page 10

[G]oo-on, he says, goo-on, I'll give you 'alf, Morris, he says if she [a racehorse] romps home, romp, did she bloody romp, she ran like the clappers out of hell, dropped dead two hours after in her trailer but san-fairy-ann, what's that to me, and where's my fiver?

2005, Hilary Mantel, Beyond Black, London: Fourth Estate, HarperCollinsPublishers, →ISBN, page 164

‘Ça ne fait rien.’ / ‘San fairy Ann,’ she laughed. ‘Well, I suppose that’s English now, in a way.’ / ‘That’s what some of the soldiers say, san fairy Ann,’ one of the children piped. ‘What does it mean?’ / ‘Eet doesen’t matair.’

[2007, Annie Wilkinson, For King and Country, London: Simon & Schuster, →ISBN, page 232