Those were good old times, and the stage-coach was a mighty thing
when school children were taught to take off their hats and make
a bow as the United States mail passed the old stage tavern.
Life Lane's coaching days were over long before this story begins,
but the Midnight Cry was still in pretty fair condition, and was driven
ostensibly by Jeremiah Todd, who lived on the "back-nippin'" road from
Bonny Eagle to Limington.
When I say ostensibly driven, I but follow the lead of
the villagers, who declared that, though Jerry held the reins,
Mrs. Todd drove the stage, as she drove everything else.
As a proof of this lady's strong individuality, she was still
generally spoken of as "the Widder Bixby," though she had been
six years wedded to Jeremiah Todd. The Widder Bixby, then,
was strong, self-reliant, valiant, indomitable. Jerry Todd was,
to use his wife's own characterization, so soft you could
stick a cat's tail into him without ruffling the fur.
He was always alluded to as "the Widder Bixby's husband;"
but that was no new or special mortification, for he had been
known successively as Mrs.
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