"It's like the Sphinx, somehow," he said. "I've always thought of the Sphinx looking forever out over the desert, and this old man of the mountain looks just the same way forever down the Notch. It gives me a funny feeling—I can't explain it. But somehow it seems as if he ought to be very wise."
Peanut laughed, but Mr. Rogers didn't laugh.
"Lou has just the right feeling about it," he said. "Lou has just the feeling they say the Indians had. To the Indians, the Great Stone Face was an object of veneration. Did any of you ever read Hawthorne's story, 'The Great Stone Face'?"
None of the boys ever had.
"Well, you ought to be ashamed of yourselves," said the Scout Master. "I'm going to see if Mr. Goodwin has the book, and read it to you. How would you like to take to-morrow off, and climb up to his forehead, and read the story there, and then go over to the Crawford House by train, instead of hiking the twenty-five miles over, on a motor road full of dust?"
"Hooray! Me for that!" cried Peanut.
"Me, too!" cried the rest of the Scouts.
"Well, we'll do it, if I can borrow the book," said Mr. Rogers. "Now, back to make a camp!"
At the depot the boys shouldered their packs again, and Mr. Rogers directed them to go north up the road till they came to Echo Lake.
