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Updated: June 14, 2025
It would seem so, for when the mother, with great effort, began some conciliatory speech, the young girl smiled with a certain sad patience, and, turning towards Judge Ostrander, said as she softly withdrew: "You have been very kind to allow me to mention a name and discuss a subject you have expressly forbidden.
Hadn't I better find out?" "Has she a child? Is she a mother?" "I haven't heard of any child, but Mrs. Yardley has seven." The judge's hand withdrew from the table and for an instant the room was so quiet that you could hear some far-off clock ticking out the minutes. Then Judge Ostrander rose and in a peremptory tone said: "To-morrow. After you hear from me again. Make no move to-night.
Once satisfied of this, your temperament is such that you would be our advocate whether you wished it or no. Your very silence would be eloquent." "Convince me; I am willing to have you, Judge Ostrander. But how can you do so? A shadow stands between my wishes and the belief you mention. The shadow cast by Oliver as he made his way towards the bridge, with my husband's bludgeon in his hand."
How a long-guarded, long-suppressed suspicion so guarded and so suppressed that I had no intimation of its existence even, found vent at a moment of public indignation, and I heard you, you, Oliver Ostrander, accused to my face of having in some boyish fit of rage struck down the man for whose death another has long since paid the penalty. This you have already been told." "Yes."
Francis Bret Harte was born in Albany, New York, February 25, 1836. His father was a highly educated instructor in Greek, of English-Jewish descent. His mother was an Ostrander, a cultivated and fine character of Dutch descent. His grandmother on his father's side was Catherine Brett. He had an elder brother and two younger sisters.
The first that most of us know about it is when we see the bills up, telling how much excursion rates will be to our town from Ostrander and Mt. Victory, and Wapatomica, and New Berlin, and Foster's, and Caledonia, and Mechanicsburg all the towns around on both the railroads.
But he made no allusion to it, nor was the bow with which he acknowledged her presence and ushered her into the room, other than courteous. Nevertheless, she was the first to speak. "This is very good of you, Judge Ostrander," she remarked, in a voice both cultured and pleasant. "I could hardly have hoped for this honour.
He might be capable of striking a sudden blow most men are under great provocation but to conceal such a fact, to live for years enjoying the respect of all who knew him, with the knowledge festering in his heart of another having suffered for his crime that, THAT would be impossible to Oliver Ostrander." Some words ring in the heart long after their echo has left the ear.
I have no money to give; but I have thought that possibly some good elm-trees growing on my farm might be of use to you, and if you wish them I will put them in the best condition and bring them to you. This offer we gladly accepted; the farmer brought the trees; they were carefully planted; they have now, for over twenty years, given an increasing and ever more beautiful shade to one of the main university avenues; and in the line of them stands a stone on which are engraved the words, ``Ostrander Elms.
She was a busy little mother, and she did not approve of Ostrander. She did not approve of any human being who would not work. "A merry Christmas," he said to her, standing somewhat wistfully above her on the stairs. She smiled at that. "Oh, Mr. Tony, Mr. Tony, they want a man in the shop. It would be a good way to begin the New Year."
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