Wandering on, they came to a stream of limpid water flowing between high grassy banks, and spanned by a little rustic bridge.
"Let's cross over," said Herbert, "that's such a pretty bridge, and it looks lovely on the other side."
"No, no, 'tain't safe, boys, don't you go for to try it," exclaimed
Uncle Joe.
"Pooh! what do you know about it?" returned Herbert, who always had great confidence in his own opinion. "If it won't bear us all at once, it certainly will one at a time. What do you say, Ed?"
"I think Uncle Joe can judge better whether it's safe than little boys like us."
"Don't you believe it: his eyes are getting old and he can't see half so well as you or I."
"I kin see dat some ob de planks is gone, Marse Herbert; an' de ole timbahs looks shaky."
"Shaky! nonsense! they'll not shake under my weight, and I'm going to cross."
"Now, Herbie, don't you do it," said his brother. "You know mamma wouldn't allow it if she was here."
"'Twon't be disobedience though; as she isn't here, and never has forbidden me to go on that bridge," persisted Herbert.