"Nathaniel Hawthorne - The Great Stone Face" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawthorne Nathaniel)

It was a happy lot for children to grow up to manhood or
womanhood with the Great Stone Face before their eyes, for all the
features were noble, and the expression was at once grand and sweet,
as if it were the glow of a vast, warm heart, that embraced all
mankind in its affections, and had room for more. It was an
education only to look at it. According to the belief of many
people, the valley owed much of its fertility to this benign aspect
that was continually beaming over it, illuminating the clouds, and
infusing its tenderness into the sunshine.

As we began with saying, a mother and her little boy sat at their
cottage door, gazing at the Great Stone Face, and talking about it.
The child's name was Ernest.

"Mother, said he, while the Titanic visage smiled on him, "I wish
that it could speak, for it looks so very kindly that its voice must
needs be pleasant. If I were to see a man with such a face, I should
love him dearly."

"If an old prophecy should come to pass," answered his mother,
"we may see a man, some time or other, with exactly such a face as
that."

"What prophecy do you mean, dear mother?" eagerly inquired
Ernest. "Pray tell me all about it!"

So his mother told him a story that her own mother had told to her,
when she herself was younger than little Ernest; a story, not of
things that were past, but of what was yet to come; a story,
nevertheless, so very old, that even the Indians, who formerly
inhabited this valley, had heard it from their forefathers, to whom,
as they affirmed, it had been murmured by the mountain streams, and
whispered by the wind among the tree-tops. The purport was, that, at
some future day, a child should be born hereabouts, who was destined
to become the greatest and noblest personage of his time, and whose
countenance, in manhood, should bear an exact resemblance to the Great
Stone Face. Not a few old-fashioned people, and young ones likewise,
in the ardor of their hopes, still cherished an enduring faith in this
old prophecy. But others, who had seen more of the world, had
watched and waited till they were weary, and had beheld no man with
such a face, nor any man that proved to be much greater or nobler than
his neighbors, concluded it to be nothing but an idle tale. At all
events, the great man of the prophecy had not yet appeared.

"O, mother, dear mother!" cried Ernest, clapping his hands above
his head, I do hope that I shall live to see him!"

His mother was an affectionate and thoughtful woman, and felt
that it was wisest not to discourage the generous hopes of her