ut why is that? The near branches of these trees need lopping away
from the roadside; we can scarcely get along."

"I know it, Ishmael; but the judge won't have a tree in Tanglewood so
much as touched; it is his crochet."

"True, for you, Marse Gray," spoke up Sam; "last time I trimmed away the
branches from the sides of this here road, ole marse threatened if I cut
off so much as a twig from one of the trees again he'd take off a joint
of one of my fingers to see how I'd like to be 'trimmed', he said."

Ishmael laughed and remarked:

"But the road will soon be closed unless the trees are cut away."

"Sartin it will; but he don't care for consequences; he will have his
way; that's the reason why he never could keep any overseer but me;
there was always such a row about the trees and things, as he always
swore they should grow as they had a mind to, in spite of all the
overseers in the world. I let him have his own will; it's none of my
business to contradict him," said Reuben.

"But what will you do when the road closes, how will you manage to get
heavy boxes up to the house?" laughed Ishmael.

"Wheel 'em up in a hand-barrow, I s'pose, and if the road gets too
narrow for that, unpack 'em and let the niggers tote the parcels up
piece-meal."

Thicker and thicker grew the trees as they penetrated deeper into the
forest; more obstructed and difficult became the road. Suddenly, without
an instant's warning, they came upon the house, a huge, square building
of gray stone, so overgrown with moss, ivy, and creeping vines that
scarcely a glimpse of the wall could be seen. Its colors, therefore,
blended so well with the forest trees that grew thickly and closely
around it, that one could scarcely suspect the existence of a building
there.

"Here we are," said Reuben, while Sam dismounted and began to take off
the boxes.

The front door opened and a fat negro woman, apparently startled by the
arrival of the wagon, made her appearance, asking:

"What de debbil all dis, chillun?"

"Here are some books that are to be put into the library, Aunt Katie,
and this young man is to unpack and arrange them," answered the
overseer.

"More books: my hebbinly Lord, what ole marse want wid more books, when
he nebber here to read dem he has got?" exclaimed the fat woman, raising
her hands in dismay.

"That is none of our business, Katie! What we are to do is to obey
orders; so, if you please, let us have the keys," replied Gray.