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Updated: May 3, 2025
My child, if you were a man, certainly you could propose, but do you think I'd look at a boy, a child! If ever I perpetrate matrimony the participant in my degradation will be a fully developed man not a hobbledehoy who falls in love, as he terms it, on an average about twice a week. Love! Ho!" I moved in the direction of the house. He barred my path.
For instance, one may look upon Racine as a broken-down, hobbledehoy, perfumed individual one may even be unable to read him; and I too may think him the same, as well as, in some respects, a subject for ridicule. Yet about him, Mr. Astley, there is a certain charm, and, above all things, he is a great poet though one might like to deny it.
She was a hobbledehoy sort of girl, having outstripped her years, which were only thirteen, and was considered by some of her companions very plain and by others very fascinating. Mrs.
Many holidays had come and gone since that day, and Dick had grown into a lanky hobbledehoy more than ever conscious of his bad clothes. Not for a moment had Mrs. Jennett relaxed her tender care of him, but the average canings of a public school Dick fell under punishment about three times a month filled him with contempt for her powers.
"Oh, his father's very rich: he has plenty of money; a Canadian millionaire, they say. That makes it all the likelier that some undesirable young woman somewhere may have managed to get hold of him. Just the sort of romantic, impressionable hobbledehoy such women angle for." I drummed my fingers on the table. Presently Hilda spoke again.
"Eleanor has the refinement that a hobbledehoy like Edith needs," Mrs. Houghton explained; "and I think the child will have better food than at Fern Hill. School food is always horrid."
Such observations, however, as I have been enabled to make in this matter have led me to believe that the hobbledehoy is by no means the least valuable species of the human race. When I compare the hobbledehoy of one or two and twenty to some finished Apollo of the same age, I regard the former as unripe fruit, and the latter as fruit that is ripe. Then comes the question as to the two fruits.
"The skilly in there doesn't seem to have weakened you much," he said, shaking himself good-naturedly as they went on. "You've still got a confounded hard hand. But what I can't understand is why you should be so sorry for a hobbledehoy like that. He can take care of himself without us." "Weren't you once sorry too for a little fellow when some one wanted to take his money away from him?"
Many of the attributes of a hobbledehoy had fallen from him, and even Lily Dale might now probably acknowledge that he was no longer a boy. All which might be regarded as good, if only in putting off childish things he had taken up things which were better than childish. On the very first day of his arrival he made his way over to Allington.
I didn't hear it. There was a girl in the case, Mr Bloom began, and he determined to send him to the Isle of Man out of harm's way but when they were both ... What? Mr Dedalus asked. That confirmed bloody hobbledehoy is it? Yes, Mr Bloom said. They were both on the way to the boat and he tried to drown... Drown Barabbas! Mr Dedalus cried. I wish to Christ he did!
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