hobbledehoy.

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.
Which is the better fruit, that which ripens early,--which is,
perhaps, favoured with some little forcing apparatus, or which, at
least, is backed by the warmth of a southern wall; or that fruit of
slower growth, as to which nature works without assistance, on which
the sun operates in its own time,--or perhaps never operates if some
ungenial shade has been allowed to interpose itself? The world, no
doubt, is in favour of the forcing apparatus or of the southern wall.
The fruit comes certainly, and at an assured period. It is spotless,
speckless, and of a certain quality by no means despicable. The owner
has it when he wants it, and it serves its turn. But, nevertheless,
according to my thinking, the fullest flavour of the sun is given to
that other fruit,--is given in the sun's own good time, if so be that
no ungenial shade has interposed itself. I like the smack of the
natural growth, and like it, perhaps, the better because that which
has been obtained has been obtained without favour.

But the hobbledehoy, though he blushes when women address him, and
is uneasy even when he is near them, though he is not master of his
limbs in a ball-room, and is hardly master of his tongue at any
time, is the most eloquent of beings, and especially eloquent among
beautiful women. He enjoys all the triumphs of a Don Juan, without
any of Don Juan's heartlessness, and is able to conquer in all