“I say, mister, had I better take a short cut over that ere bridge, which is so rotten that I calkerlate it will go down mighty soon with a tremendous whack into the water below, or go away round a couple of miles to the stone bridge?” queried the driver.
“Well,” I replied, “I think you had better go round, for the law saith, if a common carrier—which you decidedly are in every sense of the word—goes by ways that be dangerous, or drive by night, or in other inconvenient times, or if he overcharge a horse, whereby he falleth into water or otherwise, so that the stuff is hurt or impaired, then he shall be charged for his misdemeanor.”[250]
“But why does not the corporation repair the bridge?” I added.
“Oh, they don’t own it; old Squire Squaretoes built it and owns it; but he lets folks cross it if they choose,” replied the man.
“Then it is clear we would have no one to sue if any accident happened through its defective state.”[251]
I trust that my readers (if I have any) will understand that a town is not liable for injuries caused by a bridge being out of repair, if it has become so, suddenly and unexpectedly, by reason of a freshet, and sufficient time has not elapsed to enable the authorities to repair it, or to guard travellers against the danger;[252] but if the chairman of the board of supervisors has had notice of the defect, and no proper precautions are taken to guard against accidents, the town will be held liable for negligence.[253]
Quickly now we drove along the bank of a little babbling, bubbling river, which “like a silver thread with sunsets strung upon it thick like pearls” wound in and out, and round about, doubling the distance we had to travel; but I was quite content and sought not to descend from my high perch, for the breeze was
“‘Sweet as Sabæan odors from the shores
Of Araby the blest;’”
and the woods near by had many verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways, to charm the eye, and I had ever loved to gaze upon
“groups of lovely elm-trees bending
Languidly their leaf-crowned heads,
Like youthful maids, when sleep descending,
Warns them to their silken beds.”