o the little lake."

Her eyes wandered to the shores and then to the hills about the lake. How
beautiful the tall pines and spruces were! How fragrant the resinous
balsams! How bleak and cold the trees with no leaves!

Then her eyes turned to the top of the hills when suddenly--it seemed as
if by magic--there stood out before her, as if outlined in the sky, the
giant face of a man. What could it be? Had it been carved there? How
strong and noble the face seemed to be! How had it come to be there at the
very top of the hill? Then she remembered a story she had heard when first
she had come to the valley. This must be the "Old Man of the Mountain."
For centuries and centuries he had stood here guarding the little lake.

When the wonder of finding the Great Stone Face had passed by, she studied
it. The forehead was high and the face of noble mien. The mouth showed
much of strength. It was a face one would like to see often. God had put
it there--the God who made the heaven and earth. Then there came to her
mind again the verse of the morning, "I will lift up mine eyes unto the
hills from whence cometh my help." Perhaps the Old Man of the Mountain
could help her. He had stood here for years and years. He must know what
it meant to be weary with the long days and the longer nights. He must
have seen the multitude pass by and still leave him in the mountains.
Perhaps he would understand how lonely and full of unrest she was.

So leaning her head on the moss-covered stone, she said dreamily, "Old Man
of the Mountains, if you were I and were longing to go back to your work
and your friends, if you were afraid of the long winter that is coming, if
you had a duty to do right here when you longed to be there, if you had a
father who needed you and a mother who is brave as can be, and still there
burned within you the longing to get back to the others, what would you
do? Are you never weary with it all? Do you never long to run away from
your task that God has given you to do? Are you never discontented? Oh,
Old Man of the Mountain, if you were I and had my burden to carry, what
would you do?"

A silence was everywhere as she listened for his answer. Not a bird sang,
not a ripple crossed the lake. For a moment she watched the face--then
another, and then she was sure that she saw the face begin to relax. A
sign of a twinkle came across the great stone eyes and the lips smiled as
there came to her heart this answer:

"Oh, littl