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Updated: June 8, 2025
Then he invited me to go to his home and break bread with him. I vainly tried to decline. The old man would accept no excuse. "Thy father would not refuse my hospitality." That settled the matter, and I accompanied my entertainer to his domicile. I was glad that I did so, as it gave me the opportunity to see and greet Coffin's wife, who was a charming elderly Quaker lady.
Ellery wanted to marry Jezebel's sister, and I knew he really wanted to, I'd I do believe I'd help him get her. And Grace Van Horne is a good girl. Go ahead." "Of course," put in Parker, profiting by a hint of Mrs. Coffin's, "of course Daniels will fight tooth and nail against us. He'll be for discharging Ellery at once. And he really runs the parish committee." "He does, hey?
And so it eventuated that what was once mortal of Charles Carleton Coffin rests in Mount Auburn. The memorial in stone will be a boulder transported from more northern regions ages ago and left by ice on land which belonged to Mrs. Coffin's grandfather.
"I don't see that it's any business of yours what my father pays for his house!" said I, my flush of pleasure changing to one of annoyance. I glanced round for Captain Coffin's support, but he had walked indoors, no doubt in despair of Mr. Goodfellow's loquacity. "No?" queried Mr. Goodfellow. "No, I dare say not; but you just wait till you fall in love.
"Coffin? Danny Coffin?" he repeated, in a voice that, as it lost its wondering quaver, grew tense and wicked and wheedling. Captain Coffin's face twitched, and it seemed to me that his eyes, though rigid, expanded a little. But they stared into the stranger's face without seeing him.
William Molineux cracked jokes with Colonel Dalrymple. Richard Dana and Nathaniel Coffin were friendly neighbors. Mr. Dana could look out from his front windows near Frog Lane, and see the spacious grounds of his neighbor Coffin's "Fields," as the boys who played ball called it.
"I don' know," said he, "why we hadn't just as well turn here and go up Artichoke road, and git baited at Coffin's, 'stid er stoppin' to see 'em on the way home. I'm feelin' sharp as a meat-axe ag'in." "I don' know whether the rest of ye are hungry or not," said plump little Mrs. Kobbe; "but I'm gittin as long-waisted as a knittin'-needle." The language of vivid hyperbole being exhausted, Mrs.
Harrison, in those respects, showed little more taste than Mr. Cleveland for the society and interests of this particular band of followers, whose relations with the White House were sometimes comic, but never intimate. In February, 1893, Senator Cameron took his family to South Carolina, where he had bought an old plantation at Coffin's Point on St.
This little book had indeed come to many as a revelation of the promised land. The contagion reached even to Mrs. Coffin's brothers, one of whom, with a nephew of Carleton, became a pioneer farmer in the Red River Valley in Dakota.
She had great confidence in Miss Coffin's judgment, but she was far from certain that "Marguerite" would suit.
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