“A rough backwoodsman came forward and took the little maiden in his arms and kissed her, and then touched his hat to the judge on the wood horse and led the happy child away.
“And then a polished gentleman threw himself into a passion, and used objectionable language that might have subjected him to fine and imprisonment, had the law been administered to him in its severity. But the good judge only said:
“‘If you are not satisfied, there’s the orphans’ court—though, I have no doubt, that also would leave the child in the custody of her present guardian.’
“And with this the judge got off his ‘bench,’ took up his saw and resumed his work.
“And half the crowd went off swearing and threatening, and the other half laughing and cheering. That was my first experience in habeas corpus. Judge Starr has risen to wealth, power and position since then; children came to him among other good gifts, and his eldest daughter has lately married an English nobleman, who is quite as noble ‘in nature as in rank.’”
“Oh, I like that judge! I am glad he rose in the world!” exclaimed little Elva.
“I would like to see him,” murmured poor Odalite, won for the moment from the contemplation of her own woes.
“My love, for the last three years you have met him many, many times,” said her father.
“Met him!—here, in Washington? But I don’t remember any Judge Starr.”
“That was a fictitious name. I could not use his real name in telling such a story—though I don’t know why, either. But, my dear, he is now one of the judges of the Supreme Court of the United States. You cannot fail to identify him.”