The old grandmother put a chair near the fireplace for him. The oldest daughter gave him a warm, shy smile. And the baby held up its little arms to him. «This fire is just what I needed,» the young man said. «The wind has been blowing in my face for the last two hours.» The father took the young man’s travel bag. «Are you going to Vermont?» the older man asked. «Yes, to Burlington,» the traveler replied. «I wanted to reach the valley tonight. But when I saw the light in your window, I decided to stop. I would like to sit and enjoy your fire and your company for a while.» As the young man took his place by the fire, something like heavy footsteps was heard outside. It sounded as if someone was running down the side of the mountain, taking enormous steps. The father looked out one of the windows. «That old mountain has thrown another stone at us again. He must have been afraid we would forget him. He sometimes shakes his head and makes us think he will come down on top of us,» the father explained to the young man.