oked blank. Some rubbed their horns into one another's sadly, and
some cocked their tails because they felt that they could not be called
upon to work. The light of the afternoon sun came glancing along the
vast pillar, and lit its dying hues--cinnamon, purple, and glabrous red,
and soft gray where the lichens grew.

Every body looked at Mr. Gundry, and he began to cough a little, having
had lately some trouble with his throat. Then in his sturdy manner
he spoke the truth, according to his nature. He set his great square
shoulders against the butt of the tree, and delivered himself:

"Friends and neighbors, and hands of my own, I am taken in here, and I
own to it. It serves me right for disbelieving what my grandson, Firm
Gundry, said. I knew that the tree was a big one, of course, as every
body else does; but till you see a tree laid upon earth you get no grip
of his girth, no more than you do of a man till he lieth a corpse.
At the time of felling I could not come anigh him, by reason of an
accident; and I had some words with this boy about it, which kept me
away ever since that time. Firm, you were right, and I was wrong. It was
a real shame, now I see it, to throw down the 'King of the Mountains.'
But, for all that, being down, we must use him. He shall be sawn into
fifty-foot lengths. And I invite you all to come again, for six or seven
good turns at him."

At the hearing of this, a cheer arose, not only for the Sawyer's manly
truth, but also for his hospitality; because on each of these visits to
the mountain he was the host, and his supplies were good. But before the
descent with the empty teams began, young Ephraim did what appeared to
me to be a gallant and straightforward thing. He stood on the chine
of the fallen monster, forty feet above us, having gained the post of
vantage by activity and strength, and he asked if he might say a word or
two.

"Say away, lad," cried his grandfather, supposing, perhaps, in his
obstinate way (for truly he was very obstinate), that his grandson
was going now to clear himself from art or part in the murder of that
tree--an act which had roused indignation over a hundred leagues of
lowland.

"Neighbors," said Firm, in a clear young voice, which shook at first
with diffidence, "we all have to thank you, more than I can tell, for
coming to help us with this job. It was a job which required to be done
for legal reasons which I do not understand, but no doubt they were good
on