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Updated: May 5, 2025
I know the hole he went in at, but I can't tell where he's going to come out " "If he ever comes out," Betty broke in bitterly. "Oh, he'll come out somewhere!" the President laughed. "It's a habit of his. I've watched him for months sometimes I can't hear from him for a week but he always bobs up again and comes out with a whoop, too " "But we've no news!" she interrupted.
He flourished his heels in the air, turned at right angles and made off towards the river at a gallop. Cecil, busy with his cigarette, saw Norah sit up suddenly and tighten her hand on the bridle. Simultaneously Bobs was off like a shot tearing over the paddock a little wide of the fugitive. The race was a short one.
She kicked Bobs again, and the pony tried to rear, caught between the sudden blow and that compelling hand on his rein. The man pulled him down savagely, jerking at his bit and flinging threats at him and at Norah. "Y' might as well stop playin' the fool," he told her. "I want that pony, an' I'm goin' to have it." TO HAVE BOBS! She tried to speak, but the words died before she could utter them.
If we may trust Kipling they had, sometimes at least, a feeling of strong personal affection and admiration for certain commanders. "He's little, but he's wise, And he does not advertise, Do you, Bobs?" Very likely the cavalry men still have this kind of feeling for their generals. The men of the brigade I visited certainly ought to have loved their general. He did a great deal for them.
It is the blood that made the Duke of Wellington, Lord "Bobs," Robert Fulton, James Oliver, James J. Hill, Cyrus Hall McCormick and Thomas A. Edison. It makes fighters, inventors and creators stubborn men who never know when they are licked. They can live on nothing and follow an idea to its lair.
For a moment they faced each other, and then Cecil quailed under the younger boy's look. His eyes fell. Jim jumped off. "Go on." "Where?" "Back to Bobs, of course. Hurry up!" "I can't go back there," Cecil said, angrily. "I'm limping, and " "Do you think your limp matters an atom just now?" Jim said, through his teeth. "Hurry up." He followed Cecil, not trusting himself to speak.
The gray broncho showed her appreciation of the attention by nipping viciously at the flank of his horse. By Weldon's left side, Kruger Bobs halted and pointed an accusing forefinger at his knee. "Dutchmans hurt Boss," he said anxiously. "Where?" "Dere." In spite of his effort for sternness, the voice of Kruger Bobs quavered with anxiety.
The bay pony lay where he had fallen, his head flung outwards; helplessness in every line of the frame that had been a model of strength and beauty an hour ago. As Jim looked Bobs beat his head three times against the ground, and then lay still. The boy flung round, sick with horror. "Why, you vile little wretch you've killed him!"
Two curtseys two cheeses are made two hands are held out. Mr. He lays his hat to his heart. He says, "It is my duty, madam, to pay my respects to my uncle and cousins, and to thank your ladyship for such hospitality as you have been enabled to show to my brother." "It was not much, nephew, but it was our best. Ods bobs!" cries the hearty Sir Miles, "it was our best!"
The scenes which are presented to view on every hand in passing down New York Harbor and Bay are very magnificent and imposing. Ships, steamers, long ferry boats, tugs, sloops, sail boats, and every other species of water craft, from the little skiff that bobs up and down over the waves made by the steamboat swell to the man-of-war riding proudly at anchor in the stream, are seen on every hand.
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