Upon a more leisurely Survey of it—­a Survey which, meseemed, it would have been well had Others made with similar Attentiveness—­I found that the Arch thereof looked shaky and insecure; moreover, that a Great and Irregular-shaped Cleft or Crack ran, after the fashion of a Lightning-flash in a Painted Sea-scape, athwart the structure thereof from Keystone to Coping.  As I was regarding this unpleasing Portent, the Genius told me that this Bridge was at first of sound and scientific construction, but that the flight of Years, Wear and Tear, vehement Molecular Vibration, and, above all, Negligent Supervision, had resulted in its present Ruinous Condition.

“But tell me further,” said he, “what thou discoverest on it.”

“I see,” said I, “if my eyes and the dark Mists and Shadows deceive me not, a Figure couched upon the Parapet of the centre Arch thereof.”  As I looked more attentively, I saw that this figure was of a Spectral appearance, and Bony withal; albeit, its contours were to some extent hidden by its clinging cerement-like garments, and the equally clinging and charnel-like shades surrounding it.

[Illustration:  ON THE BRIDGE!]

Only an Attent, and, as it were, complacently Anticipative Visage, of an osseous and ogreish Aspect, gleamed lividly forth therefrom, as the Apparition appeared to Look and Listen through the Mist at one end of the Bridge for the welcome Sight of Disaster, the much desired Sound of Doom.  A shrill and sibilant Metallic Shriek seemed to cleave the Shadows into which the Spectre gazed; a Violent Vibratory Pulsation, as of thudding iron nails threshing upon a resonant steel floor, seemed to heat the Roadway, shake the Bridge, and as it appeared to me to widen the levin-like Cleft or Crack which disfigured the Arch thereof.

Then did I quake inwardly and breathe short.  “What, O Genius,” I cried, “signifieth the Spectre, who thus sitteth On the Bridge, what forebodeth the Aspect of eager Anticipation, and for what doth he so gloatingly and expectantly Wait?”

“This,” responded the Genius, gravely, “is Insatiate Death waiting for Inevitable Accident!”

I gazed with inexpressible melancholy upon the unhappy Scene.  At length said I, “Show me now, I beseech thee, the Secrets that lie hid under those dark Mists which cover the regions to the right which you suggest are the realms of Monopoly and Muddle.”  The Genius making me no Answer, I turned about to address myself to him a Second time, but I found that he had left me.  I then turned again to the Vision, but instead of the Roadway, the arched Bridge and the Attent Anatomy, I saw nothing but my own parlour, and my wife MARY picking up the Bradshaw’s Guide which had fallen from my sleep-relaxed hand.

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