And this curious adventure came to be when Fox was ferryman, and nobody
had better cause to remember it than old Jimmy Fox himself, for to him the
tale belongs in a manner of speaking, though you may be sure he wasn't the
man who used to tell it.
Jimmy Fox not only ran the ferry, but he was master of the 'Passage House'
inn, a public that stood just up top of the steps on the Dittisham
landing, and as this was the spot where passengers crossed, and there
weren't no beer at Greenway, they naturally took their last drink at the
'Passage House' before setting forth, and their first drink there on
landing. So it rose to be a prosperous inn enough. Mrs. Fox was the ruling
spirit there, because her husband spent most of his daytime working the
ferry boat; but Polly Fox--most people called her 'the Vixen' behind her
back--had two to help her in the shape of Christie Morrison, a niece of
her husband's, and Alice Chick, the barmaid--a good sort of girl enough.
Fox and his wife were a childless couple, and gave out they'd adopted
orphan Christie, and claimed a good deal of praise for so doing; but it
weren't a very one-sided bargain, after all, for she worked like a pony,
and proved more than worth her keep. In fact, there was little in her days
but work, and for a young pretty maiden not turned nineteen, there's no
doubt the toil and trouble of 'Passage House' and the money-grubbing
passion of her uncle and aunt were a depressing state of life.
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