The Penn's Grove record., 1923-01-12
LIFE OF

w ~ INN NAllACAAE AllCAl
children. Oh, George! my son! rather
than see you come to this pass, dear
as you are to my heart, gladly would
| assist to nail you up in your little
coffin, and follow you to your grave.
Hard, indeed, would it be to me to
give up my son, whose little feet are
always so ready to run about with
me, and whose fondly looking eyes,
and sweet prattle make so large a
part of my happiness; but still l
would give him up, rather than see
him a common liar.
PA, (said George very seriously
do | ever tell lies?"
mo, George, | thank God you do
not, my son.; and | rejoice in the hope
you never will. At least, you shall
never, from me, have cause to be
guilty of so shameful a thing. Many
parents, indeed, even compel their
children to this vile practice, by bar
bariously beating them for every little
fault; hence, on the next offence, the
little terrified creature slips out a lie!
just to escape the rod. But as to
yourself, George, you know | have
always told you, and now tell you
again, that, whenever by accident,
SOu w an CIlIllS "IOIlSy WHICH must
often be the case, as you are but a
poor little boy yet, without expert
ence or knowledge, never tell a false
hood to conceal it; but come bravely
up, my son, like a little man, and tell
me of it; and instead of beating you,
George, | will but the more honor and
love you for it, my dear
This, you Il say, was sowing good
Iroa1f w. - rro-. aAl fIo o,Dp
thank God, was, as | believe it ever
will be, where a mar acts the true
parent, that is, the Guardian Angel,
by his child.
The Cut Cherry Tree
The following anecdote is a case in
point. 1t is too valuable to be lost,
and too true to be doubted; for it a
communicated to me by the same eX-
%cellent lady to whom | am indebted
for the last.
"When George" said she, "was
about six years old, he was made the
wealthy master Of a Ratchet! of
which, like most little boys, he was
immoderately fond, and was con-
stantly going about chopping every
thing that came in his way. One day,
in the garden, where he often amused
himself hacking his mothers pea
sticks, he tnluckily tried the edge of
his Ratchet on the body of a beautiful
young English cherry-tree, which he
barked so terribly, that | don't believe
the tree ever got the better of it. The
next morning, the old gentleman find
ing out what had befallen his tree,
which, by the by, was a great favour
tie, came into the house, and with
much warmth asked for the mischiev-
Gus author, declaring at the same
time, that he would not have taken
five guineas for his tree. Nobody
could tell him anything about it..
Presently George and his Ratchet
made their appearance. George, said
his father, do you know who killed
that beautifully little cherry-tree yon-
der in the garden? This was a
tough question; and George stagger-
ed under it for a moment; but quickly
recovered himself; and looking at his
father, with the sweet face of youth
frightened with the ineXpressible
cream of all-%conquering truth, he
bravely cried out, 81 can't tell a lie,
Pa; you know | can't tell a lie. | did
it with my hatchet."-Run to my
arms, you dearest boy, cried his
father in transports, run to my arms;
glad am |, George, that you killed my
tree; for you have paid me for it a
thousand fold. Such an act of hero
ism in my son is more worth than a
thousand trees, though blossomed
with silver, and their fruits OF purest
gold.
1t was in this way, by interesting
at once both his heart and hand, that
Mr.. Washington conducted George
with great ease and pleasure along
the happy paths of virtue. But well
known that his beloved charge, soon
to be a man, would be left exposed to
numberless temptations, both from
himself and from others, his heart
throbbed with the tenderest anxiety
to make him acquainted with that
Great Being. whom to know and live,
is to possess the surest defence
against vice, and the best of all mo-
tives to virtue and happiness. To
startle George into a lively sense OF
his Maker, he fell upon the following
very curious but impressive eNpe-
dent:
One day he went into the garden,
and prepared a little bed Of finely
pulveri2ed earth, on which he wrote
Georges name at full, in large let
tcrs-then streWing in plenty Of cab,
bage seed. he covered them up, and
snoothed all over nicely with the
rolIer-This bed he p%urposely pre-
poselv prepared close along side Of a
r~ooseherry walk, which happening at
this time to be well hung with ripe
fruit. he knew would be honoured
with GEORGES visits pretty regularly