THERE Was a message brought, one day, from the wor-
shipful Gervayse Pyncheon to young Matthew Maule, the
carpenter, desiring his immediate presence at the House
of the Seven Gables.

"And what does your master want with me?" said the
carpenter to Mr. Pyncheon's black servant. "Does the
house need any repair? Well it may, by this time; and
no blame to my father who built it, neither! I was reading
the old Colonel's tombstone, no longer ago than last Sab-
bath; and, reckoning from that date, the house has stood
seven-and-thirty years. No wonder if there should be a
job to do on the roof."

"Don't know what massa wants," answered Scipio.
"The house is a berry good house, and old Colonel Pyn-
cheon think so too, I reckon; -- else why the old man
haunt it so, and frighten a poor nigga, as he does?"

"Well, well, friend Scipio; let your master know that
I'm coming," said the carpenter, with a laugh. "For a
fair, workmanlike job, he'll find me his man. And so the
house is haunted, is it? It will take a tighter workman
than I am to keep the spirits out of the Seven Gables.
Even if the Colonel would be quiet," he added, muttering
to himself, "my old grandfather, the wizard, will be pretty
sure to stick to the Pyncheons as long as their walls hold
together."

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