“Look out, boys, over the Notch, and see what the Old Man sees. Doesn’t it make all our little human rows and rights and ambitions seem small and petty? The Old Man will still be looking when you and I are dead and forgotten. While we are here, however, let’s try to be a bit like him, worthy of this view, and not talk too much unless we have something to say, and be charitable with all our neighbors, and just try to remember that no matter if lessons in school don’t go right, or we are licked in baseball, Lafayette and Cannon and Kinsman are still here, the Old Man is still looking down the valley. Let’s lift up our eyes unto the hills, and get strength. Next winter, if you feel like being cross to your mother some morning, or doing a mean thing to somebody who’s done a mean thing to you, just remember this view, just say to yourself, ‘The Great Stone Face is looking calmly down the valley, and expects me to be calm, too, and generous, and kind, because those things are what really make men great.’ Will you try to remember, boys?” “Sure!” cried Peanut. “I can never forget this view,” said Lou. “Whenever I get sore or cross, I always go out in the woods,” said Art. “Say,” Peanut added, “I _like_ to go to church this way!” The rest laughed; and “church” was over for the morning. The boys now munched their raisins, and cut their last two days’ mileage on their staffs. From the camp on Moosilauke to Lost River was four miles, through the river one, back to the store for the packs, two more, to North Woodstock five, and up to the camp by the Flume House six. That made eighteen miles, and Art and Peanut added another mile on their staffs for their walking during the pursuit of the burglars. The mileage for the next day, according to Art’s pedometer, showed nine miles from camp to the Pool and then to the top of Lafayette, and five miles down the mountain and to the base camp. Then there were two more miles of walking about to Mr. Goodwin’s house, Echo Lake, the Profile, and so on--a total of sixteen. The boys washed down their frugal meal of raisins and chocolate with all the water from the canteens (“Gee,” said Frank, “it beats all how much you drink on mountains. I suppose it’s due to the rapid evaporation.”) and shortly before one began the descent. It was made in quick time. With no packs to bother them, the Scouts could vault on their poles, and they came down the two miles in seventeen minutes. They were hot and panting at the base, and surprised at their own record. “Takes you in the front of your legs, and in behind your knees,” said Frank. “I suppose that’s because we don’t develop those holding-in muscles on the level.” “Well, we’ll develop ’em before we get home, I guess,” said Peanut, rubbing his shins.