nown and prominent family here wishing to return to Medford, decided to come by the Woburn stage, as it passed her home, and was just entering it when Mr. Blanchard, perceiving her intention, stepped up, put his arms about her, lifted her bodily into his coach, saying politely, This is your stage, Miss——.
One lady remembers, when a pupil at A. K. Hathaway's private school, of riding alone in the stage from Pleasant street, Medford, to Harrison avenue, Boston.
A procession in honor of Zachary Taylor, President of the United States, who had recently died, was passing in the city, and she particularly recalls the kindness of the driver to the little miss during the frequent stops and changes he was obliged to make.
A lively episode is related as taking place at the Medford House one Sunday night. Mr. Blanchard and Mr. Hemphill, the latter then owning a route, were trying vigorously to get passengers.
The fare was twenty-five cents, and Mr. Hemphill offered to take passengers for t