With his fat tummy, shaggy hair and beard, and homey old carved wooden furniture, Mr. Tamarin just doesn't look the type who would become so obsessed with the fall leaves cluttering up his lawn and drains that he'd run outside with a power saw in the middle of the night and cut down all his trees. Later of course, when the snow drifts against the house, and then in summer when the sun makes it boiling hot, Mr. Tamarin regrets his action, as his wife has warned all along. They can't even sell the house, with nothing but a lot of stumps on the lawn, and so at last the Tamarins plant more trees, and watch them grow, and shrug off the fallen leaves. The solution, a wise one for the homeowner, is a weak one for the story, but Diane deGroat's affectionate line drawings make Mr. Tamarin amusingly awesome in his wrongheadedness.