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Updated: June 27, 2025
Once active members of real Society; no woman could go back to "society," any more than a roughrider could return to a hobbyhorse. New development in dress, wise, comfortable, beautiful, may be confidently expected, as woman becomes more human. No fully human creature could hold up its head under the absurdities our women wear to-day and have worn for dreary centuries.
Wherefore, if ye really preach from conscience, and mean not to make a political hobbyhorse of your religion convince the world thereof, by proclaiming your doctrine to our enemies, FOR THEY LIKEWISE BEAR ARMS. Give us proof of your sincerity by publishing it at St.
Rouse these people for one thing; preach discontent, a noble discontent." "It will only make them unhappy." "No, it won't; not if you show them the way out. If it does, it's better to be unhappy striving for higher things, like a man, than to be content in a wallow like swine." "But what is the way out?" This was sufficient to set Radbourn upon his hobbyhorse.
In Abel's arms was something globed, like a little world; in Simeon's, the tall, gray-gowned Saint Nicholas taken from the Exchange window, the lettered sign absent, but the little flag still in his hand; and Ebenezer was carrying the hobbyhorse.
The roof sloped sharply, and the trunks and boxes had been pressed back to the rim of the place. Ebenezer put his hands out, groping. They touched an edge of something that swayed. He laid hold of it and drew it out and set down on the faint rug of light a small wooden hobbyhorse.
Gradually he let himself face what it was that he was wanting to do. And when he faced that, he left the hobbyhorse where it was under the wall and went into the street. He took his place among the externals of the Winter night, himself unconscious of them. The night, with all its content, a thing of explicable fellowships, lay waiting patiently for those of its children who knew its face.
They have all been liberally educated. They all lie under the restraints of the same sacred profession. They are all young. They are all in love. Not one of them has any hobbyhorse, to use the phrase of Sterne. Not one has a ruling passion, such as we read of in Pope. Who would not have expected them to be insipid likenesses of each other? No such thing.
Something else stirred in his memory, the name by which Malcolm had used to call his hobbyhorse, some ringing name ... but he had forgotten. He thrust the thing back where it had been and went on with his search for the account books.
Fell and cut it twentytwo years ago. I was sixteen. ZOE: I see, says the blind man. Tell us news. STEPHEN: See? Moves to one great goal. I am twentytwo. Sixteen years ago he was twentytwo too. Sixteen years ago I twentytwo tumbled. Twentytwo years ago he sixteen fell off his hobbyhorse. Must see a dentist. Money? They giggle. FLORRY: What?
'You see, observed Darya Mihailovna, 'African Semenitch has got on his hobbyhorse, now he will not be off it to-night. 'My hobby! But women have three at least, which they are never off, except, perhaps, when they're asleep. 'What three hobbies are those? 'Reproof, reproach, recrimination.
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