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Any item that your father forgot would leave Corbin unpleasantly close to seeming a thief. Of late, your father's demands have been heavy." "Yes, yes, I know about all that." A sudden change of mood brought a twinkle to the financier's eyes. "My father has been under very heavy expenses of late, Carl.
Then there was Corbin, the little white pony that belonged to all of the children together, and was saddled and bridled every fair day, and tied to the horse-rack, that the little girls might ride him whenever they chose; and 'twas no unusual sight to see two of them on him at once, cantering down the big road or through the grove.
"I wrote her," continued Corbin, "that her son was dead, but that he and me had some interests together in a claim, and that I was very glad to know where to send her what would be his share every month. I thought it no use to tell her I killed him, may be she might refuse to take it. I sent her a hundred dollars every month since.
Among his protégés was Abel R. Corbin, who had been known at Washington as the clerk of a House committee, a correspondent, and a lobbyist, and who had afterward removed to New York, where he had added to his means by successful speculation.
Corbin returned; "but I have had an offer for it, which, if you see fit to accept, will settle the matter very shortly." "Tell me about it," said the lady, eagerly. Mr. Corbin made a statement from a memorandum which he drew from his pocket, upon the conclusion of which Mrs.
said she could write the poetry and history part some other day; so she closed the book, and gave it to Mammy to put away for her, and she and Dumps went out for a ride on Corbin. THERE, was no more faithful slave in all the Southland than old Uncle Snake-bit Bob. He had been bitten by a rattlesnake when he was a baby, and the limb had to be amputated, and its place was supplied with a wooden peg.
Graves' remark had led her to suppose that he was there by his appointment. Mr. Corbin bowed to the young man, and remarked: "I was about to explain to Mrs. Montague that some proofs regarding the identity of Miss Montague have recently come into my possession." "Do you mean to assert that you have proofs that will establish the theory which you advanced to me during your last call here?" Mrs.
Do you suppose," she questioned, with some anxiety, "that the enmity between my uncle and my father was so bitter that that Uncle Walter was in any way responsible for his my father's death?" "Poor child! have you had that terrible fear to contend against with all your other troubles?" asked Mr. Corbin, in a tone of compassion.
Because he is a son of the South; because as a son of the South, as the representative, and a distant connection, I believe, of my old political friend, Major Corbin, of Nashville, he wishes here and everywhere, at this momentous crisis, to sink everything in the one all-pervading, all-absorbing, one and indivisible UNITY of the South in its resistance to the Northern Usurper!
We were working on the road, and I with my hoe was working beside an old Quaker farmer, David Corbin, who used to be a school teacher. A large flat stone was turned over, and beneath it in some orderly arrangement were some smaller stones. "Here are some antiquities," said Mr. Corbin, and my vocabulary received another addition. A new word or a new thing was very apt to make its mark upon my mind.
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