What is "ballston"

Usage examples of "ballston".

They’d wound up with the announcement that they’d figured out what’d happened in Ballston Spa three years ago and were on their way to confirm their suspicions.

Before long the conductor on our train was announcing our approach to Ballston Spa, and when we arrived at the town’s outskirts I found that my mood of the day before had returned, and maybe even gotten worse.

Still, nobody ever thought to rename the town, even though, by 1897, there wasn’t much about Ballston that brought the word “spa” to mind.

That’s one of the reasons I came back to Ballston —it’s actually possible to do an oc­casional bit of good here without having to worry about the magnates and the bosses.

After all, most people who knew the woman in her early Ballston days didn’t think she was a wicked person, really—just entirely too determined to do and have things her own way.

Picton called out to a big man who was standing at it, reading a copy of the town paper, the Ballston Weekly Journal .

But Libby left Ballston within a matter of weeks, to take the job with the Vanderbilts in New York.

So when I found myself on the edge of Ballston Spa again, a peculiar mixture of relief and disappointment at being back in “civilization” came into me.

Be­fore long I was back out among the farms and the woods again, moving south and west through country that was even less inhabited than those stretches what lay to the east of Ballston Spa.

Wright eventually reached a point where she could pretty well name her fee from old Daniel: over time she’d squeezed enough money out of her tightfisted boss to be able to buy a decent house of her own in town, something that no other job in Ballston Spa what was available to a woman would’ve put her in a position to do.

Wright had more than once seen Parker and Libby locked in steamy em­brace in the woods beyond the Hatch house, and Libby’s sudden relapse into moody agitation in the summer of 1893 had occurred, coincidentally, right after Parker’d told his superiors that his spiritual talents were being wasted in Ballston Spa, and he’d been dispatched to do good works in that modern-day Babylon, New York City.

Finally, we left the house and strolled down in the warm darkness to Ballston Spa’s electric trolley station, where we boarded a small, open car in high spirits—never suspecting for a moment that our host intended this little trip as something more than just recreation.

The thing moved at a good clip through the four or five miles of countryside what separated Ballston Spa from Saratoga’s main street, Broadway, and the breeze that hit us in our seats at the front of the car was refreshing and even exciting, given where we were going.

Yes, if I’m right, you can expect to see some of these same faces sitting in the galleries of the Ballston court house in the weeks to come.

Picton and the detective sergeants to go to bed, at which point the rest of us would leave the house separately, to meet up around the corner on Ballston Avenue.