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Updated: May 20, 2025
Tobin was holding her cloud over her face, the wind was sharp on that bit of open road, but she gave an encouraging sound, between a groan and a chirp. "'T wouldn't be like nothin' to me not to see you drivin' by," she said, after a minute. "I shouldn't know the days o' the week.
As we squeezed through the gates a nigger man sticks his lighted segar against Tobin's ear, and there is trouble. Tobin hammers his neck, and the women squeal, and by presence of mind I drag the little man out of the way before the police comes. Tobin is always in an ugly mood when enjoying himself. On the boat going back, when the man calls "Who wants the good-looking waiter?"
Tobin walked with her husband from the shore the evening she took him off the "Eb and Flo," she maintained a rigid silence. The captain was well accustomed to this mood, and it always affected him more than the scolding. He knew then that his wife's anger was more than ordinary, and it was necessary for him to use all the diplomacy at his command.
Some time in the fall of 1857, not long after the Mountain Meadows massacre, it was decided by the authorities at Salt Lake City that Lieut. Tobin must be killed. Tobin had left a train in Salt Lake, joined the Church there, and afterwards married a daughter of Brother Charles C. Rich, one of the twelve apostles.
I wouldn't have spoken if I had known, but she needn't have let on they was hers an' make everything unpleasant. 'I guess them beans taste just as well as other folks', says she, and she wouldn't never speak to me afterward." "Do' know's I blame her," ventured Mr. Briley. "Women folks is dreadful pudjicky about their cookin'. I've always heard you was one o' the best o' cooks, Mis' Tobin.
As for himself, Conductor Tobin said he must bid the boy good-by, as he lived a short distance out on the road, and must hurry to catch the train that would take him home. He would be back, ready to start out again with the through freight, that evening, and hoped Rod would come and tell him what luck he had in obtaining a position.
"I hope none on 'em'll git round our way, I'm sure," said Fanny Tobin. "I don't want to see none on 'em in their crape bunnits comin' after me." "I ain't goin' to let nobody touch a hair o' your head," and Mr. Briley moved a little nearer, and tucked in the buffaloes again. "I feel considerable warm to what I did," observed the widow by way of reward. "There, I used to have my fears," Mr.
"'Twill be convenient in the way of greeting when he backs up to dump off the good luck." "His name," says the palmist, thoughtful looking, "is not spelled out by the lines, but they indicate 'tis a long one, and the letter 'o' should be in it. There's no more to tell. Good-evening. Don't block up the door." "'Tis wonderful how she knows," says Tobin as we walk to the pier.
Wing's father and mother were both Chinese, but Wing had been born and had lived all his nine years in the town of Tobin, which is in California, on the overland road, far enough up the Sierra climb for the east-bound trains to have always two engines when they pass its depot.
Ye must be mighty glad to see me. Why did ye go by on your up trip without stopping?" "I was in a great hurry, Martha, an' had to git the wind when it served. We was hung up a long time down river." "But ye never did such a thing before. Was there any special reason why ye didn't call just for a few minutes?" Mrs. Tobin was a buxom, matronly-looking woman, with a usually bright, pleasant face.
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