''
The anger died out of his father's face, and
taking the boy tenderly in his arms, he said:--
``My son, that you should not be afraid to tell
the truth is more to me than a thousand trees!
yes, though they were blossomed with silver and
had leaves of the purest gold!''
II. THE APPLE ORCHARD
One fine morning in the autumn Mr. Washington,
taking little George by the hand, walked
with him to the apple orchard, promising that he
would show him a fine sight.
On arriving at the orchard they saw a fine sight,
indeed! The green grass under the trees was
strewn with red-cheeked apples, and yet the
trees were bending under the weight of fruit that
hung thick among the leaves.
``Now, George,'' said his father, ``look, my
son, see all this rich harvest of fruit! Do you
remember when your good cousin brought you a
fine, large apple last spring, how you refused to
divide it with your brothers? And yet I told you
then that, if you would be generous, God would
give you plenty of apples this autumn.''
Poor George could not answer, but hanging
down his head looked quite confused, while with
his little, naked, bare feet he scratched in the soft
ground.
``Now, look up, my son,'' continued his father,
``and see how the blessed God has richly provided
us with these trees loaded with the finest fruit.
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