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Quita had suggested airily, at the outset; and a faint look of horror convulsed Mrs Mayhew's bird-like face. Her husband saw it, and came promptly to her aid. "No forks, no champagne!" he retorted, laughing; and Quita picked up her fork straightway. "Hobson's choice!" she said, in a tone of mock resignation. "It would be sheer brutality to deprive six men of champagne!"
I tiptoed a hundred feet along the wall and peered around a turret up to a room above, where Hobson's head could easily be seen in a patch of light. The ghost, at that moment, was walking just below, and the effect on the old man, appalling though it was, was ludicrous as well.
Hitherto they had been compelled to trudge all the way out to Hobson's mill-pond, and back, which was a long enough journey to keep many from ever thinking of indulging in what is, perhaps, the most cherished winter sport among youthful Americans.
Only for our taking that walk we wouldn't have been near Hobson's mill-pond at just the minute little Brutus was struggling in the water, and so been able to pull him out. That in turn took us to his home; and his mother had to dip in by wanting us to see how her precious pickaninny played with his toys back in the old cabin. It's wonderful, that's all I can say."
The young women behind the counter watched him with interest as he wandered about, carefully examining each table and sitting down tentatively at several. At last he chose the most central, as being the furthest removed from Hobson's choice; sat down, took the Infant out of its bag, and, screwing in its pointed foot, leaned it up against another chair at the table.
It was not the first time that they had handled an unwilling witness. McMurdo went to Hobson's Patch as agreed. The police seemed to take particular interest in him that morning, and Captain Marvin he who had claimed the old acquaintance with him at Chicago actually addressed him as he waited at the station. McMurdo turned away and refused to speak with him.
We've turned our back on the old quarry now, and are headed for the road again, two miles above Hobson's mill-pond. I only hope we find it better going on this end of the abandoned trail. This jumping is hard on the springs of the car, and also on our bones." "For one," said Julius, "I hope never to set eyes on the place again."
As we entered the porte-couchere, my friend Michael passed me, and as he took off his hat in salutation, gave me one rapid glance of his knowing eye that completely satisfied me that Hobson's pride in my friend's carriage had by that time received quite sufficient provocation to throw him into an apoplexy. "By-the-by," said I, "let us see your carriage.
Besides, they had a splendid lake over at Belleville, which would be considerable of an attraction to the young people of Scranton, whom fortune had not treated so kindly, since they had formerly been compelled to trudge several miles to Hobson's mill-pond when they wished to skate, swim, or fish; though now, of course, they had the newly flooded area in the baseball park for diversion.
Act well thy part; in that the honour lies." "Yes, yes," said Mrs. Dodd, "only first choose your part; and let your choice be reasonable." "Mine was Hobson's, and he never chooses wrong. Come, come," said he, and appealed calmly to their reason, by which means he made no impression at all. Then he happened to say, "Besides, I must do something.
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