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Updated: May 28, 2025
"I brought you these, Nina. Have you read all of them?" Nina finished a mouthful of nectarine and picked up the books one by one. No, she had not read any of them. So he went on to explain: he knew the cowboy story was a corker, and another, of Arizona, described an Indian fight in the Bad Lands that was capital.
He had a sharp instinctive belief that he could put his arm around her, but he rebuked himself and with excessive politeness he saw her to the car, drove her home. All the way back to his office he raged: "Glad I had some sense for once.... Curse it, I wish I'd tried. She's a darling! A corker! A reg'lar charmer!
"Gracious, surely you didn't go as far as that," Mrs. Allen cried, casting a jealous look at her sleeping infant and sweeping it on to her grinning spouse. "Didn't I, though!" Wrinkle spat, gleefully. "Alf has often said I couldn't fool him, an' we'll see we'll see this pop." "It certainly is a corker," Allen declared "that is, if he swallows it."
So you see, in a way, I'm to blame, and I didn't think you'd mind defending Kasheed, because he's a corker and if they electrocute him Eset will starve to death." "I see," said. Mr. Tutt thoughtfully. "You think that by rights if anybody was going to get killed it ought to have been you?" Willie nodded. "Yes, sir," he assented.
She actually took your side said oh, never mind tried to make me think of her just as if she was any old Mamie the stenog tried to prune out personal feeling." "By Jove," he ruminated, "that girl's a corker!" He raised forgiving eyes from his contemplation of the rug. "Well, old man, blow me to a Scotch and soda, and I'll be going.
She is in Judge Bannister's box and we board with her at King's Crest. And say, she's a corker!" George, surveying Becky with increasing interest, decided that she was a bit above her surroundings. She sat as it were with Publicans. George may not have used the Scriptural phrase, but he had the feeling. He was Pharisaic ally thankful that he was not as that conglomerate group in the Bannister box.
"Gee, he's a corker, all right!" came from the boy at one point, and then, from the President: "That's right, he is a corker. Now you see his head here" and then both were off again. The private secretary came in at this point and whispered in the President's ear. "I know, I know. I'll see him later. Say that I am very busy now." And the face beamed with smiles. "Now, Mr.
It happened some fifty years ago that there turned up, first upon the plains and afterward in New York and Washington, a lineal descendant of the oldest of the Virginia Lamptons he had somehow gotten hold of or had fabricated a bundle of documents who was what a certain famous American would have called a "corker."
"And the president?" "He looked grave. Then he turned his head away. Then he sort of looked at me as if he'd been a a corker himself in the old boy days. He gave me a mild lecture on controlling my temper. I told him he'd better have me tied up or put Mace somewhere so I couldn't find him, or I was afraid I'd break loose again." "That was pretty strong, wasn't it, Bob?"
"What's this?" exclaimed Bobby, picking him up with as substantial an air of paternity as though he were forty. "What's this? Goneter cry afore a stranger?" He held the child up to Donaldson. "The kid," he announced laconically. "What yuh think of him?" "Corker," answered Donaldson. "Let me hold him." "Sure. Get a chair for the gent, Sis."
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