The Ambitious Guest

ANNOUNCER:  Now, theSpecial English program, AMERICAN STORIES.

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Our story today is called,"The Ambitious Guest. " It was written by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Hereis Harry Monroe with our story.

STORYTELLER:  OneDecember night, a long, long time ago, a family sat around the fireplace intheir home. A golden light from the fire filled the room. The mother and fatherlaughed at something their oldest daughter had just said.

The girl was seventeen, mucholder than her little brother and sister, who were only five and six years old.A very old woman, the family's grandmother, sat knitting in the warmest cornerof the room. And a baby, the youngest child, smiled at the fire's light fromits tiny bed.

This family had foundhappiness in the worst place in all ofNew England.They had built their home high up in theWhite Mountains,where the wind blows violently all year long.
 
The family lived in an especially cold and dangerous spot. Stones from the topof the mountain above their house would often roll down the mountainside andwake them in the middle of the night.

No other family lived nearthem on the mountain. But this family was never lonely. They enjoyed eachother's company, and often had visitors.

Their house was built nearan important road that connected the White Mountains to theSaint Lawrence River. People traveling through the mountains in wagonsalways stopped at the family's door for a drink of water and a friendly word.

Lonely travelers, crossingthe mountains on foot, would step into the house to share a hot meal.Sometimes, the wind became so wild and cold that these strangers would spendthe night with the family. The family offered every traveler who stopped attheir home a kindness that money could not buy.

On that December evening,the wind came rushing down the mountain. It seemed to stop at their house toknock at the door before it roared down into the valley.

The family fell silent for amoment. But then they realized that someone really was knocking at their door.The oldest girl opened the door and found a young man standing in the dark.

The old grandmother put achair near the fireplace for him. The oldest daughter gave him a warm, shysmile. And the baby held up its little arms to him.

"This fire is just whatI needed," the young man said. "The wind has been blowing in my facefor the last two hours."

The father took the youngman's travel bag. "Are you going toVermont?"the older man asked.

"Yes, toBurlington," thetraveler replied. "I wanted to reach the valley tonight. But when I sawthe light in your window, I decided to stop. I would like to sit and enjoy yourfire and your company for a while."
 
As the young man took his place by the fire, something like heavy footsteps washeard outside. It sounded as if someone was running down the side of themountain, taking enormous steps.

The father looked out one ofthe windows.

"That old mountain hasthrown 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 ofus," the father explained to the young man.
 
"But we are old neighbors," he smiled. "And we manage to getalong together pretty well. Besides, I have made a safe hiding place outside toprotect us in case a slide brings the mountain down on our heads."
 
As the father spoke, the mother prepared a hot meal for their guest. While heate, he talked freely to the family, as if it were his own.

This young man did not trustpeople easily. Yet on this evening, something made him share his deepest secretwith these simple mountain people.

The young man's secret wasthat he was ambitious.  He did not know what he wanted to do with hislife, yet. But he did know that he did not want to be forgotten after he haddied. He believed that sometime during his life, he would become famous and beadmired by thousands of people.

"So far," theyoung man said, "I have done nothing. If I disappeared tomorrow from theface of the earth, no one would know anything about me. No one would ask 'Whowas he. Where did he go?' But I cannot die until I have reached my destiny.Then let death come! I will have built my monument!"

The young man's powerfulemotions touched the family. They smiled.

"You laugh at me,"the young man said, taking the oldest daughter's hand. "You think myambition is silly."
 
She was very shy, and her face became pink with embarrassment. "It isbetter to sit here by the fire," she whispered, "and be happy, evenif nobody thinks of us."
 
Her father stared into the fire.

"I think there is somethingnatural in what the young man says. And his words have made me think about ourown lives here.

"It would have beennice if we had had a little farm down in the valley. Some place where we couldsee our mountains without being afraid they would fall on our heads.  Iwould have been respected by all our neighbors. And, when I had grown old, Iwould die happy in my bed. You would put a stone over my grave so everyonewould know I lived an honest life."
 
"You see!" the young man cried out. "It is in our nature to wanta monument. Some want only a stone on their grave. Others want to be a part ofeveryone's memory. But we all want to be remembered after we die!"

The young man threw somemore wood on the fire to chase away the darkness.
 
The firelight fell on the little group around the fireplace: the father'sstrong arms and the mother's gentle smile. It touched the young man's proudface, and the daughter's shy one.
It warmed the old grandmother, still knitting in the corner. She looked up fromher knitting and, with her fingers still moving the needles, she said,"Old people have their secrets, just as young people do."
 
The old woman said she had made her funeral clothes some years earlier. Theywere the finest clothes she had made since her wedding dress. She said hersecret was a fear that she would not be buried in her best clothes.

The young man stared intothe fire.

"Old and young,"he said. "We dream of graves and monuments. I wonder how sailors feel whentheir ship is sinking, and they know they will be buried in the wide andnameless grave that is the ocean?"

A sound, rising like theroar of the ocean, shook the house. Young and old exchanged one wild look. Thenthe same words burst from all their lips.

"The slide! Theslide!"

They rushed away from thehouse, into the darkness, to the secret spot the father had built to protectthem from the mountain slide.

The whole side of themountain came rushing toward the house like a waterfall of destruction. Butjust before it reached the little house, the wave of earth divided in two andwent around the family's home. Everyone and everything in the path of theterrible slide was destroyed, except the little house.

The next morning, smoke wasseen coming from the chimney of the house on the mountain.

Inside, the fire was stillburning. The chairs were still drawn up in a half circle around the fireplace.It looked as if the family had just gone out for a walk.

Some people thought that astranger had been with the family on that terrible night. But no one everdiscovered who the stranger was. His name and way of life remain a mystery. Hisbody was never found.

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Announcer: You have justheard the story, "The Ambitious Guest. " It was written by NathanielHawthorne, and adapted for Special English by Dona de Sanctis. Your narratorwas Harry Monroe. This is Shirley Griffith.