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"Gosh!" he protested, "I hope you aren't going to have much to do with the long-haired bunch.... I've invented a name for them 'the Hobohemians." "Oh no-o! I don't take them seriously at all. I was just glad to go once." "Of course some of them are clever." "Oh yes, aren't they clever!" "But I don't think they last very well." "Oh no, I'm sure they don't last well.
They found a small Italian restaurant, free of local-color hounds and what Carl called "hobohemians," and discovered fritto misto and Chianti and zabaglione a pale-brown custard flavored like honey and served in tall, thin, curving glasses while the fat proprietress, in a red shawl and a large brooch, came to ask them, "Everyt'ing all-aright, eh?"
She was a socialist who was determined to control and glorify business; a pessimist who was, in her gentle reticent way, as scornful of half-churches, half-governments, half-educations, as the cynical Mrs. Lawrence. Finally, she who was not handsome or dissipated or gay, but sallow and lame and Spartan, knew "Bohemia" better than most of the professional Hobohemians.
Phil Benson did believe what he was saying, though he had borrowed all of his sentiments from a magazine story about hobohemians which he had read the night before. He also spoke of reading good books, seeing good plays, and the lack of good influences in this wicked city. He didn't overdo it. He took leave in ten minutes to find good influences in a Kelly pool-parlor on Third Avenue.
Indeed it was a pretty sight to see them playing there on the lawn before the Mitchin mansion, talking about the novels they were going to write and the revolutions they were going to lead. Had Miss Mitchin's ballet of hobohemians been tough newspapermen they wouldn't have been drawing-cards for a tea-room.
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