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Updated: May 22, 2025
But now, again, there were reports and many paragraphs in the newspapers, affirming that the likeness of the Great Stone Face had appeared upon the broad shoulders of a certain eminent statesman. He, like Mr. Gathergold and Old Blood-and-Thunder, was a native of the valley, but had left it in his early days, and taken up the trades of law and politics.
Gathergold, type of the merely rich man, Old Blood-and-Thunder, type of the merely military hero, Old Stony Phiz, type of the merely eloquent statesman, the easily satisfied people, type of the fickle crowd, and at last the gifted poet, type of the discord between words and works, all were natives of the same valley of opportunity.
An aid-de-camp of Old Blood-and-Thunder, travelling through the valley, was said to have been struck with the resemblance.
The courtship has been written far and wide with blood-and-thunder pen, attended by lariat-throwing and runaway steeds. In reality it was a romantic affair. More than once, while out for a morning canter, Will had remarked a young woman of attractive face and figure, who sat her horse with the grace of Diana Vernon. Now, few things catch Will's eye more quickly than fine horsemanship.
When he recovered I suggested that he should write out the whole affair from beginning to end, knowing that ink might assist him to ease his mind. When little boys have learned a new bad word they are never happy till they have chalked it up on a door. And this also is Literature. He was in a high fever while he was writing, and the blood-and-thunder Magazine diction he adopted did not calm him.
'Because, replied Ernest, 'all through life I have awaited the fulfilment of a prophecy; and, when I read these poems, I hoped that it might be fulfilled in you. 'You hoped, answered the poet, faintly smiling, 'to find in me the likeness of the Great Stone Face. And you are disappointed, as formerly with Mr. Gathergold, and old Blood-and-Thunder, and Old Stony Phiz. Yes, Ernest, it is my doom.
But now, again, there were reports and many paragraphs in the newspapers, affirming that the likeness of the Great Stone Face had appeared upon the broad shoulders of a certain eminent statesman. He, like Mr. Gathergold and Old Blood-and-Thunder, was a native of the valley, but had left it in his early days, and taken up the trades of law and politics.
Years before a young man had left the valley, had gone into the world as a warrior, and finally had become a great commander. Such had been his character and life that the illustrious man was called by the name of Old Blood-and-Thunder. This old general, being worn out with warfare, decided to return to his native valley and spend his last days in peace.
Meantime, however, he could overhear the remarks of various individuals, who were comparing the features of the hero with the face on the distant mountain-side. "'Tis the same face, to a hair!" cried one man, cutting a caper for joy. "Wonderfully like, that's a fact!" responded another. "Like! why, I call it Old Blood-and-Thunder himself, in a monstrous looking-glass!" cried a third. "And why not?
The law will protect us, an' the hull neighborhood has resolved, with Mr. Durham here, that you and your children shall make no more trouble than he and his children. See?" "Look-a-here," began the man, blusteringly, "you needn't come threatenin' in this blood-and-thunder style. The law'll protect me as well as " Ominous murmurs were arising from all my neighbors, and Mr.
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