“That would make no difference.[353] But if a man who is both an innkeeper and a livery-stable keeper receives a horse, and does not say he takes it in the latter capacity, he has all the responsibilities of an innkeeper, as well as all his privileges.[354] On the other hand, if an innkeeper receives horses and carriages on livery, the fact that the owner on a subsequent day takes refreshment at the inn will not give the innkeeper an innkeeper’s rights.[355] I was almost forgetting to say that even a livery-stable keeper may have a lien by express agreement;[356] and if he exercises any labor or trouble in the improvement of the animals, he will have a lien for his charges.[357]
“Well, I rather fancy that the ladies will think we have not almost, but altogether, forgotten them, and intend to pass another night here. Let us be off.”
Chapter VIII.
WHAT IS A LIEN?
As we turned to leave the premises to hasten back to our respective wives, leaving our Jehu to bring the carriage and horses, we were accosted by a most dilapidated specimen of the genus “seedy,” who appeared to be a kind of stable-boy or hostler not overstocked with brains. Judging from a cursory glance, his pants had parted in irreconcilable anger from his boots, and had cautiously shrunk well up to the knees—as if apprehensive of a kick from the big toe which was well enough to be outside the remains of the boots; here and there patches of bare skin peeped out through his tattered set-upons, as if pleased to see daylight and have a little fresh air. Yet of such varied hues were they, that the most profound ethnologist would be perplexed to decide whether the man should be classed among the Caucasian, Mongolian, Malay, Indian, or Negro race, or whether he was a hybrid compound of all five. His coat, in colors, would have rivaled Joseph’s, and made the teeth of his naughty brethren water with tenfold jealousy. His hat might have for generations been used in winter to exclude the rains and snows from a broken window, in summer for the breeding place of barn-door fowls. The countenance of this tatterdemalion seemed as empty as his pockets, and his brain as disordered as his long yellow hair; his breath as alcoholic as the store-room of a distillery; his tout ensemble anything but suggestive of the “is he not a man and a brother” sentiment.
In piteous tones this wreck of what, perchance, was once a mother’s darling, a father’s pride, asked:
“Be you a liyur, sur?”
“Yes. What do you want?” I returned.
“Well, sur, I’m a poor man, with not a cint to bliss myself wid; and I come here one day and got a bite of vittals, and bedad, sur, the ould landlord seized me for rint, and said, says he, that he had a lane upon me for those same scraps of cold food; and says he, I must stay here and work for him until I can pay up. Now, kin he do that same, yur honor?”
“No, most certainly not. He has no right to keep you or any other man for such a reason.[358] So you had better be off.”
“Long life to your honor, and may the holy saints—but kin he,” and again the voice sank into a wail, “kin he kape me clothes?”