II.

BOYHOOD

T is fortunate that the materials of Washing ton's early life were preserved by one who was rector of the Mount Vernon parish

while members of the family and other friends survived. Rev. M. L. Weems ministered there seventy-five years ago, and he gathered information from a woman who was neighbor to the Washingtons in her childhood, and from John Fitz. hugh, who was often with George in his early home. In addition, descendants of the family, who nad fondly preserved valuable incidents of their illustrious ancestor's boyhood and manhood, furnished them for his biography by their pastor. We are indebted to Mr. Weems for most of the facts relating to Washington's boyhood.

In the autumn of 1737, Mr. Washington went to the door of a neighbor and relative, leading George by the hand. The woman who related the incident to Mr. Weems was a little girl at that time, and was visiting the family.

"Will you take a walk with us?" inquired George's father, addressing himself to the girl just mentioned, and her cousin, whose name was Washington.

"We are going to take a walk in the orchard," con tinued Mr. Washington. "It is a fine sight now."

Both of the parties addressed promptly accepted the invitation, delighted to take a stroll among the trees that were bending under their burden of fruit.

A walk of a half-mile brought them to the orchard, where an unusual spectacle awaited them.

"Oh, see the apples!" exclaimed George. "Such a lot of them!" And he clapped his hands and fairly

danced in his excitement.

"I never saw such a sight," said the girl who accompanied them.

"It is a spectacle, indeed!" responded Mr. Washington: "It is not often we see so much fruit in one field as we see here."

It was not so much the enormous crop of apples upon the trees, as it was the great quantity on the ground beneath them that attracted George. The winds had relieved the trees of a portion of their burden, and the ground was literally covered with the lucious fruit. George had never beheld such a display of apples, and his young heart bounded with delight over the scene.

They roamed through the orchard for a time, chatting and enjoying the occasion thoroughly, when Mr. Washington rather disturbed the flow of animal spirits by saying,

"Now, George, look here, my son! Don't you remember when this good cousin of yours (referring to the lad who was with them) brought you that fine large apple last spring, how hardly I could prevail on you to divide it with your brothers and sisters, though I

promised you that if you would but do it God would give you plenty of apples this fall.”

George made no reply but hung his head in shame He had not forgotten his selfishness on that occasion, and he was greatly mortified.

His father continued,

"Now, look up, my son; look up, George! See how richly the blessed God has made good my promise to you. Wherever you turn your eyes, you see the trees loaded with fine fruit; many of them, indeed, breaking down; while the ground is coverei with mellow apples, more than you could eat, my son, in all your life-time."

George made no reply. His young companions stood in silence, gazing at him, as if wondering what all this counsel meant. Mr. Washington waited for his son to speak; and just as he was concluding that George had nothing to say for himself, the latter turned manfully to his father, and said:

Well, pa, only forgive me this time, and see if 1 am ever stingy any more."

Mr. Washington had a purpose in going to the orchard, and it was well accomplished. His son got one nobler idea into his head, and one nobler resolve into his heart. Henceforth the noble boy would treat selfishness as a foe instead of a friend.

Mr. Washington resorted to the following device to impress his son with a proper conception of God as the Creator of all things. In the spring he carefully prepared a bed in the garden, beside the walk, where George would frequently go for pleasure. When the bed was prepared, he wrote George's name in full in

the pulverized earth, and sowed the same with cabbage seed. In due time, of course, the seed appeared in green, thrifty shoots, forming the letters as clearly as they stand in the alphabet. George discovered them one day. He was then seven or eight years old. He stood for a moment in silent wonder. "Those are letters sure enough," he thought. Then he read them aloud, them aloud, "G-E-O-R-G-E W-A-S-H-I-N-G-T-O-N."

With wondering eyes he rushed to the house, and excitedly broke the news.

"Oh, pa, come here! come here!"

"What's the matter, my son? what's the matter?" responded his father.

"Oh, come here, I tell you, pa; come here!" and the boy could scarcely contain himself, so great was his excitement.

"But what is it, my son? Can't you tell me what has happened?"

"Come here, and I'll show you the greatest sight you ever saw in your life!"

By this time he was pulling his father along towards the garden, the latter understanding full well what had happened. Very soon they reached the bed, where the bright, thrifty cabbage plants had spelled the name of GEORGE WASHINGTON in full.

"There, pa!" exclaimed George, pointing to his name in cabbage plants, and exhibiting the greatest astonishment by his appearance. "Did you ever see such a sight in all your life-time?"

"Well, George, it does seem like a curious affair sure enough," his father answered.

promised you that if you would but do it God would give you plenty of apples this fall.”

George made no reply but hung his head in shame He had not forgotten his selfishness on that occasion, and he was greatly mortified.

His father continued,

"Now, look up, my son; look up, George! See how richly the blessed God has made good my promise to you. Wherever you turn your eyes, you see the trees loaded with fine fruit; many of them, indeed, breaking down; while the ground is coverei with mellow apples, more than you could eat, my son, in all your life-time."

George made no reply. His young companions stood in silence, gazing at him, as if wondering what all this counsel meant. Mr. Washington waited for his son to speak; and just as he was concluding that George had nothing to say for himself, the latter turned manfully to his father, and said:

Well, pa, only forgive me this time, and see if I am ever stingy any more."

Mr. Washington had a purpose in going to the orchard, and it was well accomplished. His son got one nobler idea into his head, and one nobler resolve into his heart. Henceforth the noble boy would treat selfishness as a foe instead of a friend.

Mr. Washington resorted to the following device to impress his son with a proper conception of Go the Creator of all things. In the spring he ca prepared a bed in the garden, beside the wall George would frequently go for pleas bed was prepared, he wrote George'