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Updated: June 15, 2025
Pinchot, all the people of the country all the while looking on, and said, "Ballinger is the kind of man our people prefer, and Pinchot is not," that the people broke out so amazingly, so incredibly, and decided by such an enormous majority that a man who could pick out men for them like this would not do as things are just now anyway for a President of the United States.
No doubt he was no longer in a position to pay any. They would have to live, keep up Ballinger House, dress, pay taxes, subscribe to charities, maintain their position in society, pay the doctor and the dentist...a hundred and one other incidentals...out of four thousand dollars a year. Well, it couldn't be done. They would have to change their mode of living.
Ballinger as an executive officer. These charges were made to the President; the President had the facts before him and could get at them at any time, and he alone had power to act if the charges were true. However, he permitted and requested Congress to investigate Mr. Ballinger.
It makes me believe in Fate and I am a good Churchwoman." "It's a sad world," commented Mrs. Ballinger with a sigh. "I confess I don't understand it. When I think of Sally " Mrs. Montgomery, a good kind woman, whose purse was always open to her less fortunate friends, shook her head. "I do not like such a sequel. I agree with Alexina and Charlotte.
Ballinger between her teeth. This possibility seemed too preposterous to be admitted. "She would hardly dare," said Miss Van Vluyck, "confess the imposture to Osric Dane." "I'm not so sure: I thought I saw her make a sign as she left. If she hadn't made a sign, why should Osric Dane have rushed out after her?"
Wharton occasionally leaves the restraint of her ordinary manner to wear the keener colors of the satirist. Xingu, for instance, with its famous opening sentence "Mrs. Ballinger is one of the ladies who pursue Culture in bands, as though it were dangerous to meet alone" has the flash and glitter, and the agreeable artificiality, of polite comedy. Undine Spragg and the many futile women whom Mrs.
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said Hondo Bill to the mail- carrier in solemn tones, "to be packing around such a lot of old, trashy paper as this. What d'you mean by it, anyhow? Where do you Dutchers keep your money at?" The Ballinger mail sack opened like a cocoon under Hondo's knife. It contained but a handful of mail.
"She told my maid, and if we didn't listen to our maids' gossip how much would we really know about what goes on in this town?" Mrs. McLane, Mrs. Ballinger, Guadalupe Hathaway and Sally Abbott were sitting in Mrs. Abbott's large and hideous front parlor after luncheon, and she had tormented them throughout the meal with a promise of "something that would make their hair stand on end."
Ballinger and her husband, the table linen had been woven for her in Ireland, the cut glass blown for her in England; the fragile china came from Sevres, and the massive silver had travelled from England to Virginia in the reign of Elizabeth. The room may have been ugly, nay, ponderous, but it had an air!
The mail-carrier jumped out and took the bridles from the mules, for he always fed them oats at Ballinger's. While the mules were eating from their feed bags old man Ballinger brought out the mail sack and threw it into the wagon. Fritz Bergmann was a man of three sentiments or to be more accurate four, the pair of mules deserving to be reckoned individually.
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