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Tobin's Palm

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This title is an audiobook produced by Canarit Audiobooks. Please visit us at www.canaritaudiobooks.com, and contact us production@canaritaudiobooks.com Did you know that O. Henry’s real name, was William Syndey Porter? He had many pseudonyms but is most known as ‘O. Henry’. He wrote over 300 stories, and is known for playfully writing a twist at their end. Most of them are based in New York with characters being an ‘average joe’. A census at the time, stated there were about 4 million individuals living in NYC at the time, and that is how this volume of short stories, received its name. Like the characters in his stories, his life was full of surprising twists and turns, from career jumping in the search for his ultimate passion, accepting his flaws, and following his heart. The name he created for himself, remains his legacy to this day, as his work is so highly regarded, as classic must- reads, as well as an award named after him for outstanding short stories, and numerous media produced inspired by his various stories. We hope you enjoy Canarit Audiobook’s production of Tobin’s Palm , feel free to read along with your listen! Story to follow Produced Canarit Audiobooks Directed Gil Geva Written O. Henry Recorded and Edited Shalev Alon Music Adam Vitovski Soundly, Soundotcom Cover Gev Miron Performed John Delaporta Jake Feree Nicole Raviv Jacob Dalton

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About the author

O. Henry

2,920 books1,887 followers
Such volumes as Cabbages and Kings (1904) and The Four Million (1906) collect short stories, noted for their often surprising endings, of American writer William Sydney Porter, who used the pen name O. Henry.

His biography shows where he found inspiration for his characters. His era produced their voices and his language.

Mother of three-year-old Porter died from tuberculosis. He left school at fifteen years of age and worked for five years in drugstore of his uncle and then for two years at a Texas sheep ranch.

In 1884, he went to Austin, where he worked in a real estate office and a church choir and spent four years as a draftsman in the general land office. His wife and firstborn died, but daughter Margaret survived him.

He failed to establish a small humorous weekly and afterward worked in poorly-run bank. When its accounts balanced not, people blamed and fired him.

In Houston, he worked for a few years until, ordered to stand trial for embezzlement, he fled to New Orleans and thence Honduras.

Two years later, he returned on account of illness of his wife. Apprehended, Porter served a few months more than three years in a penitentiary in Columbus, Ohio. During his incarceration, he composed ten short stories, including A Blackjack Bargainer , The Enchanted Kiss , and The Duplicity of Hargraves .

In 1899, McClure's published Whistling Dick's Christmas Story and Georgia's Ruling .

In Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, he sent manuscripts to New York editors. In the spring of 1902, Ainslee's Magazine offered him a regular income if he moved to New York.

In less than eight years, he became a bestselling author of collections of short stories. Cabbages and Kings came first in 1904 The Four Million, and The Trimmed Lamp and Heart of the West followed in 1907, and The Voice of the City in 1908, Roads of Destiny and Options in 1909, Strictly Business and Whirligigs in 1910 followed.

Posthumously published collections include The Gentle Grafter about the swindler, Jeff Peters; Rolling Stones , Waifs and Strays , and in 1936, unsigned stories, followed.

People rewarded other persons financially more. A Retrieved Reformation about the safe-cracker Jimmy Valentine got $250; six years later, $500 for dramatic rights, which gave over $100,000 royalties for playwright Paul Armstrong. Many stories have been made into films.

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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
Profile Image for Classic reverie.
1,865 reviews
May 6, 2022
O'Henry's "Tobin's Palm" is a short story about one friend trying to distract the other who is very troubled about why his fiance from Ireland has not reach America yet and she be carrying his money from his inherited estate, so a trip to Coney Island is ordered to calm his nerves. This is an enjoyable story!


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TOBIN AND ME, the two of us, went down to Coney one day, for there was four dollars between us, and Tobin had need of distractions. For there was Katie Mahorner, his sweetheart, of County Sligo, lost since she started for America three months before with two hundred dollars, her own savings, and one hundred dollars from the sale of Tobin’s inherited estate, a fine cottage and pig on the Bog Shannaugh. And since the letter that Tobin got saying that she had started to come to him not a bit of news had he heard or seen of Katie Mahorner. Tobin advertised in the papers, but nothing could be found of the colleen.
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So, to Coney me and Tobin went, thinking that a turn at the chutes and the smell of the popcorn might raise the heart in his bosom. But Tobin was a hardheaded man, and the sadness stuck in his skin.
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So I gets him down a side way on a board walk where the attractions were some less violent. At a little six by eight stall Tobin halts, with a more human look in his eye. “’Tis here,” says he, “I will be diverted. I’ll have the palm of me hand investigated by the wonderful palmist of the Nile, and see if what is to be will be.”

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Tobin was a believer in signs and the unnatural in nature. He possessed illegal convictions in his mind along the subjects of black cats, lucky numbers, and the weather predictions in the papers.

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Tobin is worried when Katie doesn't arrive after leaving Ireland. Tobin is not enjoying himself and is even unhappy when the palm reader tells of his troubles ahead but a man with a crooked nose would give him luck. So when he found this man he could not let him go and Danny told the man of his troubles and after a drink together, he brings them home for some coffee and the new girl is Katie. I had thought when the man with the crooked nose brought Tobin to his home that Katie might be his wife but I was glad she was his cook. Why had she not seen Tobin after she arrived? Maybe lost his address or looked to not marry him after all? Or had she lost his money and was too upset to face him?

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“Have ye any amendments,” he asks, “to offer to that statement, or are ye one too? I thought by the looks of ye ye might have him in charge.” “None,” says I to him, “except that as one horseshoe resembles another
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so are ye the picture of good luck as predicted by the hand of me friend. If not, then the lines of Danny’s hand may have been crossed, I don’t know.” “There’s two of ye,” says the man with the nose, looking up and down for the sight of a policeman. “I’ve enjoyed your company immense. Good-night.” With that he shoves his segar in his mouth and moves across the street, stepping fast. But Tobin sticks close to one side of him and me at the other.
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“’Tis a strange hallucination,” says the man, turning to me as a more reasonable lunatic. “Hadn’t ye better get him home?” “Listen, man,” says I to him. “Daniel Tobin is as sensible as he ever was. Maybe he is a bit deranged on account of having drink enough to disturb but not enough to settle his wits, but he is no more than following out the legitimate path of his superstitions and predicaments, which I will explain to you.” With that I relates the facts about the palmist lady and how the finger of
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suspicion points to him as an instrument of good fortune. “Now, understand,” I concludes, “my position in this riot. I am the friend of me friend Tobin, according to me interpretations. ’Tis easy to be a friend to the prosperous, for it pays; ’tis not hard to be a friend to the poor, for ye get puffed up by gratitude and have your picture printed standing in front of a tenement with a scuttle of coal and an orphan in each hand. But it strains the art of friendship to be true friend to a born fool. And that’s
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what I’m doing,” says I, “for, in my opinion, there’s no fortune to be read from the palm of me hand that wasn’t printed there with the handle of a pick. And, though ye’ve got the crookedest nose in New York City, I misdoubt that all the fortune-tellers doing business could milk good luck from ye. But the lines of Danny’s hand pointed to ye fair, and I’ll assist him to experiment with ye until he’s convinced ye’re dry.” After that the man turns, sudden, to laughing. He leans against a corner and laughs considerable. Then

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he claps me and Tobin on the backs of us and takes us by an arm apiece. “’Tis my mistake,” says he. “How could I be expecting anything so fine and wonderful to be turning the corner upon me? I came near being found unworthy. Hard by,” says he, “is a café, snug and suitable for the entertainment of idiosyncrasies. Let us go there and have drink while we discuss the unavailability of the categorical.”
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“Ye must know,” says the man of destiny, “that me walk in life is one that is called the literary. I wander abroad be night seeking idiosyncrasies in the masses and truth in the heavens above. When ye came upon me I was in contemplation of the elevated road in conjunction with the chief luminary of night. The rapid transit is poetry and art: the moon but a tedious, dry body, moving by rote. But these are private
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opinions, for, in the business of literature, the conditions are reversed. ’Tis me hope to be writing a book to explain the strange things I have discovered in life.” “Ye will put me in a book,” says Tobin, disgusted; “will ye put me in a book?” “I will not,” says the man, “for the covers will not hold ye. Not yet. The best I can do is to enjoy ye meself, for the time is not ripe for destroying the limitations of print. Ye would look fantastic in type. All alone by meself must I drink this
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cup of joy. But, I thank ye, boys; I am truly grateful.” “The talk of ye,” says Tobin, blowing through his moustache and pounding the table with his fist, “is an eyesore to me patience. There was good luck promised out of the crook of your nose, but ye bear fruit like the bang of a drum.
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“’Tis me humble dwelling,” says he, “and I begin to perceive by the
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signs that me wife has retired to slumber. Therefore I will venture a bit in the way of hospitality. ’Tis me wish that ye enter the basement room, where we dine, and partake of a reasonable refreshment. There will be some fine cold fowl and cheese and a bottle or two of ale. Ye will be welcome to enter and eat, for I am indebted to ye for diversions.” The appetite and conscience of me and Tobin was congenial to the proposition, though ’twas sticking hard in Danny’s superstitions to think that a few drinks and a cold
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lunch should represent the good fortune promised by the palm of his hand. “Step down the steps,” says the man with the crooked nose, “and I will enter by the door above and let ye in. I will ask the new girl we have in the kitchen,” says he, “to make ye a pot of coffee to drink before ye go. ’Tis fine coffee Katie Mahorner makes for a green girl just landed three months. Step in,” says the man, “and I’ll send her down to ye.”
Profile Image for Kyle.
174 reviews4 followers
November 26, 2019
There was a surprise at the end? Maybe 2.5. Though it also might be hard to go from Ursula K. to O. Henry.
538 reviews6 followers
July 12, 2023
Гоповатые нюйрские друзья пошли искать свою судьбу и ирландскую жену суеверного ирландца Тобина. По ходу Тобин вломил негру, но без стычек с людьми обошлось. Очень мило.
Profile Image for Steve Shay.
1 review
January 20, 2024
The ending I don’t understand. Can someone please explain?😊 Was the girl hiding from him with the money? Or do we assume the best, that they each finally found each other?
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Profile Image for Leah Angstman.
Author 18 books151 followers
January 4, 2016
Good dialect, but the story itself is a little trite. There is a nice twist at the end that redeems the story, but overall, it's pretty dry and boring, as far as O. Henry goes. It has his usual twist and an ending that pops, but the guts of the story don't hold up to his usual storytelling. The prose is just fair, although plenty competent, but I find myself not really caring about the protagonists at all.
Profile Image for Bryan Heck.
74 reviews4 followers
May 2, 2013
If I could I would probably give it a 2.5. It was an ok story, but nothing spectacular.
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