On the following morning his papa, in his walk in the garden, observed the injury done to his favourite cherry-tree, and after walking awhile, returned to the house, and inquired of the different members of the family whether any of them knew who had done the mischief, remarking, at the same time, that he would not have taken five dollars for the tree. No one was able to inform him, for there was no person in the garden with George when he cut the tree.
Presently George made his appearance with his hatchet in his hand.
"George," said his papa, "do you know who killed that beautiful little cherry-tree yonder in the garden?"
Little George with his Hatchet in his hand, and his Papa pointing to the ruined Cherry-tree.
This was an unpleasant question, and George staggered under it for a moment; then looking at his papa, he bravely cried out "I can not tell a lie, papa; you know I can not tell a lie, I did it with my little hatchet!" "Run to my arms, my dearest boy", said his papa, "you have paid me for my tree a thousand times; I freely forgive you for killing it; and I hope my son will always be hero enough to tell the truth, let what will come."
I hope all my young friends will be as honest as little George Washington was, and remember always to speak the Truth.
THE TWO COTTAGE GIRLS.
In a delightful town in New England, there lived a family of the name of Davis. Their residence was in a neat little cottage in a beautiful valley on the bank of a river, whose waters glided smoothly by the side of their humble but happy mansion. Mr. Davis had two daughters who were twins. Mrs. Davis took great pains to dress them alike, and always to have them make a neat appearance. Their names were Helen and Maria. In pleasant, warm weather, they often took a walk by the river, and were much pleased with the delightful groves and scenery, which their handsome valley presented to their view.