He chose a site at Mon-ti-cel-lo, which means Lit-tle Moun-tain, near a great oak where his tomb was yet to be. He made his own plan for the house in 1769. He had the land made clear and one wing of the new house was up. His law books and briefs were in the old farm-house at Shad-well. While Thom-as Jef-fer-son and his moth-er had gone to make a call at the home of a friend, a slave ran to tell him that their old house had caught fire and was quite gone. The first thing Jef-fer-son said was "Did you save my books?" The black man said he had not done so but that "the fid-dle was safe!" They all went, then, to live in the "wing" at Mon-ti-cel-lo. To this place, in two years more, when the house had grown to a fine size, a sweet bride came.
The young pair had a cold trip. The drifts of snow grew so high that the young folks had to leave their chaise, mount the horses, and go on. At last they came to their hill road, wound up it, but it was quite late ere they got to the top. They found the house dark and all the help gone to their beds. But though the first night was dark and cold, the house was soon a bright one and all went well with the young pair.
Fine trees were bought, with vines, shrubs, and plants such as could live in the cold months, and all the grounds near the house were made fair to the sight.
A score of kith and kin soon came to live with the Jef-fer-sons for the rest of their lives, and friends and guests were there so much that a whole ox and a ton of hay would go in a day.
A sweet child of their own came to bless this home the next year. The fa-ther of the young wife died then and
