The Woodlanders

As soon as it had fallen the barkers attacked it like locusts, and in a

short time not a particle of rind was left on the trunk and larger

limbs. Marty South was an adept at peeling the upper parts, and there

she stood encaged amid the mass of twigs and buds like a great bird,

running her tool into the smallest branches, beyond the farthest points

to which the skill and patience of the men enabled them to

proceed--branches which, in their lifetime, had swayed high above the

bulk of the wood, and caught the latest and earliest rays of the sun

and moon while the lower part of the forest was still in darkness.

"You seem to have a better instrument than they, Marty," said Fitzpiers.

"No, sir," she said, holding up the tool--a horse's leg-bone fitted

into a handle and filed to an edge--"'tis only that they've less

patience with the twigs, because their time is worth more than mine."

A little shed had been constructed on the spot, of thatched hurdles and

boughs, and in front of it was a fire, over which a kettle sung.

Fitzpiers sat down inside the shelter, and went on with his reading,

except when he looked up to observe the scene and the actors. The

thought that he might settle here and become welded in with this sylvan

life by marrying Grace Melbury crossed his mind for a moment. Why

should he go farther into the world than where he was? The secret of

quiet happiness lay in limiting the ideas and aspirations; these men's

thoughts were conterminous with the margin of the Hintock woodlands,

and why should not his be likewise limited--a small practice among the

people around him being the bound of his desires?

Presently Marty South discontinued her operations upon the quivering

boughs, came out from the reclining oak, and prepared tea. When it was

ready the men were called; and Fitzpiers being in a mood to join, sat

down with them.

The latent reason of his lingering here so long revealed itself when

the faint creaking of the joints of a vehicle became audible, and one

of the men said, "Here's he." Turning their heads they saw Melbury's

gig approaching, the wheels muffled by the yielding moss.

The timber-merchant was on foot leading the horse, looking back at

every few steps to caution his daughter, who kept her seat, where and

how to duck her head so as to avoid the overhanging branches. They

stopped at the spot where the bark-ripping had been temporarily

suspended; Melbury cursorily examined the heaps of bark, and drawing

near to where the workmen were sitting down, accepted their shouted

invitation to have a dish of tea, for which purpose he hitched the

horse to a bough. Grace declined to take any of their beverage, and

remained in her place in the vehicle, looking dreamily at the sunlight

that came in thin threads through the hollies with which the oaks were

interspersed.