poh

"Poh, poh! it's a mere trifle, I repeat," Tibbits rejoined.

Lady Anſw[erall]. Colonel, ſome Ladies of your Acquaintance have promis'd to breakfast with you, and I am to wait on them; what will you give us? / Col[onel Atwit]. Why, faith, Madam, Batchelors Fare; Bread and Cheeſe, and Kiſſes. / Lady Anſw. Poh! what have you Batchelors to do with your Money, but to treat the Ladies? you have nothing to keep but your own Four Quarters.

Poh it's disgusting, Mr. Caudle.

Oh, poh! they might have been counted some how or other, unless indeed they were so numerous as to require all our people to stand sentinel round them.