By some peculiar art the
rocks had been thrown together in such a way as to make the mountain
look almost exactly like a human face. There was the broad arch of the
forehead, a hundred feet in length; the nose, with its long bridge, and
the great lips, which, if they could have spoken, would surely have
rolled thunder from one end of the valley to the other.
It was a happy lot for children to grow up to manhood or womanhood with
the Great Stone Face before their eyes, because all of its features were
noble, so that just to look at it made one wish to be better.
This, then, was what Ernest and his mother sat looking at long after the
sun had sunk behind those great piles of stones.
"Mother," said Ernest, "if I were to see a man with such a face I know I
should love him."
"If an old prophecy comes true," answered his mother, "we may see a man
some time or other with exactly such a face as that."
"Oh, tell me about it, mother. Will it really come true?" eagerly
inquired Ernest.
Then his mother told him a story which her mother had told to her when
she was a child.
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