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Page 72—Stealing Land

The Boys And The Apple Tree
As Billy and Tommy
Were walking one day,
They came by a fine orchard side;
They'd rather eat apples
Than spell, read, or play,
And Tommy to Billy then cried,
"O brother, look! see
What fine clusters hang there,
I'll jump and climb over the wall;
I will have an apple,
I will have a pear,
Or else it shall cost me a fall."
Said Billy to Tommy,
"To steal is a sin,
Mamma has oft told this to thee;
O never yet stole,
Nor now will begin,
So red apples hang on the tree."
"You are a good boy,
As you ever have been,"
Said Tommy; let's walk on, my lad;
We'll call on our school-fellow
Little Bob Green,
And to see us I know he'll be glad."
They came to a house,
And they rang at the gate,
And asked, "Pray, is Bobby at home?"
But Bobby's good manners
Did not let them wait;
He out of the parlour did come.
Bob smil'd, and he laughed,
And he caper'd with joy,
His little companions to view.
"We call'd in to see you,"
Said each little boy.
Said Bobby, "I'm glad to see you.
"Come walk in our garden,
So large and so fine;
You shall, for my father gives leave;
And more, he insists
That you'll stay here to dine:
A rare jolly day we shall have!"
But when in the garden,
They found 'twas the same
They saw as they walk'd in the road;
And near the high wall,
When these little boys came,
They started, as if from a toad.
"That large ring of iron,
Which lies on the ground,
With terrible teeth like a saw,"
Said Bobby, "the guard
Of our garden is found;
It keeps wicked robbers in awe.
"The warning without,
If they should set an nought,
This trap tears their legs—O! so sad!"
Said Billy to Tommy,
"So you'd have been caught,
A narrow escape you have had."
Cried Tommy, I'll mind
What my good mamma says,
And take the advice of a friend;
I never will steal
To the end of my days,
I've been a bad boy, but I'll mend."
Adelaide
Honesty
With honest heart go on your way,
Down to your burial sod,
And never for a moment stray
Beyond the path of God;
And everything along your way
In colours bright shall shine;
The water from the jug of clay
Shall taste like costly wine!
Holte
Thou Shalt Not Steal
On the goods that are not thine,
Little child, lay not a finger;
Round thy neighbour's better things
Let no wistful glances linger.
Pilfer not the smallest thing;
Touch it not, howe'er thou need it,
Though the owner have enough,
Though he know it not, nor need it.
Taste not the forbidden fruit,
Though resistance be a trial;
Grasping hand and roving eye,
Early teach them self-denial.
Upright heart and honest name
To the poorest are a treasure;
Better than ill-gotten wealth,
Better far than pomp and pleasure.
Poor and needy though thou art,
Gladly take what God has given;
With clean hands and humble heart,
Passing through this world to heaven.
The Thief
Why should I deprive my neighbour
Of his goods against his will?
Hands were meant for honest labour,
Not to plunder, nor to steal.
'Tis a foolish self-deceiving
By such tricks to hope for gain:
All that's ever got by thieving
Turns to sorrow, shame, and pain.
Oft we see the young beginner
Practice little pilfering ways,
Till grown up a hardened sinner,
Then the gallows ends his days.
Theft will not be always hidden,
Though we fancy none can spy;
When we take a thing forbidden,
God holds it with His eye.
Guard my heart, O God of heaven,
Lest is covet what's not mine;
Lest I take what is not given,
Guard my heart and hands from sin.
Watts