•■m 
 
 RIPE CHERRIES, 
 
 Oii 
 
 THE HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 WILLIAM AND JANE. 
 
 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 
 150 Nassau Street, New- York. 
 
 NO. XIII. 
 
 
RIPE CHERRIE S. 
 
 William and Jane one day were al- 
 lowed by their mother to go and play 
 by themselves in the garden. She 
 could trust them, for they had learned 
 always to try to do what is right, 
 though nobody was looking at them. 
 And we should always remember this ; 
 for God sees us, though we cannot see 
 
195) RIPE CHERRIES. 3 
 
 him; as it is written in the 139th 
 Psalm, " Thou art acquainted with all 
 my ways ;" and as the beautiful hymn 
 
 says, 
 
 Almighty God, thy piercing eye 
 Strikes through the shades of night, 
 
 And our most secret actions lie 
 All open to thy sight. 
 
 There's not a sin that we commit, 
 
 Nor wicked word we say, 
 But in thy dreadful book 'tis writ, 
 
 Against the judgment day. 
 
 O may 1 now forever fear 
 T ; indulge a sinful thought ; 
 
 Since the great God can see and hear 
 And writes down every fault. 
 
 They played for some time in a 
 pleasant, good-humored manner, like 
 children who knew the " sweet delight 
 
RIPE CHERRIES. 
 
 (196 
 
 of being kind," If children could but 
 persuade themselves to remember how 
 they wish their playfellows and com- 
 panions to behave to them, I think 
 they would often avoid doing unkind 
 things, or saying rude words. See 
 how well William and Jane agree, and 
 how affectionately they are reading to- 
 
 '■V' '-<'•-- 
 
 
 gether that pretty hymn in Watts.. 
 called " Love between Brothers and 
 Sisters." After reading for some time, 
 
197) 
 
 RIPE CHERRIES, 
 
 William went to weed his garden, while 
 Jane was feeding the chickens, for she 
 was very fond of her " pretty chicks," 
 as she called them, and never forgot to 
 
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 feed them. It is a cruel thing to neg- 
 lect the creatures of God, and leave 
 them to suffer from hunger or thirst. 
 Jane thought so too, and was very kind 
 to dumb creatures. When Jane had 
 finished with the chickens, she went to 
 &ee how William came on with \m 
 
6 RIPE CHERRIES. (198 
 
 garden, and to ask him for a few flow- 
 ers. 
 
 There was a wall on one side of the 
 garden, with fruit trees nailed against 
 it : among them was a very beautiful 
 cherry-tree; there w 7 ere not many cher- 
 ries on it that year, and they w T ere quite 
 ripe, but they had been allowed to re- 
 main on the tree, as William and Jane's 
 father w T as expected to return from a 
 long journey the next day, and their 
 mother had told them that she wished 
 to keep these cherries for him. 
 
 There are some children I have 
 known, who will go and gather fruit 
 and flowers without asking leave, if 
 they are allowed to walk in the gar- 
 den, and will try to help themselves 
 slyly, which they know is wrong. 
 
199) RIPE CHERRIES. 7 
 
 These silly children forget that God 
 
 sees them, though man may not. Wil- 
 liam and Jane were not like these chil- 
 dren ; they had been taught never to 
 help themselves to any fruit without 
 leave ; and, as I told you, their mother 
 could trust them. Is it not very pleas- 
 ant to feel that you can be trusted ? 
 Well, then, take care ; the Bible tells 
 us, " Let him that thinketh he stand- 
 eth, take heed lest he fall," 1 Cor. 10 : 
 1 2 ; and what I am going to tell you 
 will show you how necessary it is to 
 remember that text. 
 
 William and Jane were running 
 along the walk, when, as they came 
 near the cherry-tree, a gust of wind 
 shook the leaves, and several ripe cher- 
 ries fell off the tree. William stopped 
 
8 
 
 RIPE CHERRIES. 
 
 (200 
 
 to look at them, and I am sorry to have 
 to say that Jane stooped down and 
 picked some of them up ; she ate two 
 
 or three, and gave the rest to her bro- 
 ther. They had not finished eating 
 them, when Jane recollected that they 
 were doing wrong. "Oh, William' 5 
 
201) ripe CHERRIES. 9 
 
 she cried out, " what have we done ? 
 How displeased mamma will be ! 
 What shall we do ? 
 
 William. The cherries looked so 
 good, I quite forgot — but suppose we 
 don't tell her. 
 
 Jane. O William ! that would be 
 making bad worse. We have done 
 wrong, it is true ; but you know we 
 must tell her. 
 
 William. But you know she is dis- 
 pleased if we do not remember what 
 she tells us, and punishes us if we dis- 
 obey her. 
 
 Jane. Yes ; but I had rather she 
 knew all and punished me, than to try 
 to hide it ; for I am sure I never could 
 feel happy when she looked at me, if 
 I had deceived her ; and you know she 
 
10 EIPE CHERRIES. (202 
 
 does not punish us because she is an- 
 gry, but that we may try to do what is 
 right in future. 
 
 William. Yes; but I don't like to 
 see her displeased, and she is always 
 grieved when she knows we have done 
 wrong. Why should we make her 
 unhappy ? 
 
 Jane. She would be much more un- 
 happy if she found that we try to hide 
 what we have done. Recollect what 
 she told us last Sabbath, that God is 
 always ready to forgive those who 
 come and ask pardon for Christ's sake, 
 when they have done wrong. Your 
 text was, " If we confess our sins, he 
 is faithful and just to forgive us our 
 sins, and to cleanse us from all un- 
 righteousness." 1 John 1 : 9. And you 
 
203) RIPE CHERRIES. 11 
 
 know, she said, that if God, who is so 
 great and so good, has promised to do 
 this, then surely a parent or teacher 
 who loves God, will be ready to do the 
 same ; and if you recollect, she told us 
 never to let false shame keep us from 
 telling her at once we had done wrong, 
 or we should get more and more into 
 sin and trouble. 
 
 William, Well, well, you are right ; 
 let us make haste and go to her, and 
 tell her the truth. 
 
 So they went, hand in hand, to find 
 their mother ; of course they were not 
 very cheerful, but they felt thankful 
 that they had been able to determine 
 to do what was right, and tell the truth. 
 
 " Oh, mamma, 5 ' said Jane, " you will 
 be sorrv to hear that we have been 
 
w^mmmmk j*e-m wm i ■ 
 
 12 RIPE CHERRIES. (204 
 
 naughty children; but we know it 
 would not be right to try to hide what 
 we have done, so we are come to tell 
 you the truth. Jane then told all that 
 had happened, exactly as it passed, 
 and William produced the cherry- 
 stones, which he had brought, that his 
 mother might see how many he had 
 really eaten ; and I can assure you 
 they did not try to make any excuses, 
 but told the whole truth. 
 
 Their mother was sorry to hear they 
 had disobeyed her, but she was pleased 
 to find that they were ready to tell the 
 truth, and still more so, to find that they 
 did not attempt to say, " It was only a 
 very few ;" or, " It was Jane who gave 
 them to me ;" or, " If William had not 
 stopped, I should not have touched 
 
 i 
 
205) 
 
 RIPE CHERRIES. 
 
 13 
 
 them." I am afraid there are some 
 children who would have made foolish 
 excuses like these: such conduct is 
 always a bad sign. If little boys or 
 
 
 girls begin to make excuses, I am then 
 certain that they are not really con- 
 vinced that they have done wrong, but 
 
14 RIPE CHERRIES. (1 0(5 
 
 are only sorry that they have been 
 found out. 
 
 When William and Jane had told 
 their mother all the truth, they expect- 
 ed that she would punish them, and 
 they were quite ready to submit to 
 whatever she might think it right to do. 
 After a few minutes, their mother told 
 diem, that as they had been so ready 
 to tell the truth, without attempting to 
 make any excuse, she was satisfied 
 that they were really convinced that 
 they had done wrong, and she thought 
 that they would be more careful in fu- 
 ture : so she would not punish them, 
 and trusted they would not soon forget 
 what had happened, and that their bro- 
 ther and sister would remember it also. 
 She then reminded them that they 
 
207 
 
 RIPE CHERRIES. 
 
 15 
 
 
 
 
 could only overcome temptation by- 
 looking to God for grace to enable 
 them to resist it, and that this was 
 necessary in every thing, whether 
 great or small, as a very trifling fault 
 often leads to a very great one. 
 
 If my little readers like this story, 
 I hope that they will remember what 
 it is to teach them, and not merely 
 think about the cherries. 
 
 
 3 
 
»-■ 
 
 
 How kind is Jesus, oh ! how good ! 
 j For my poor soul he shed his blood ; 
 For children's sake he was reviled, 
 Yet Jesus loves a little child. 
 
 To me may Jesus now impart 
 | Although so young, a gracious heart 
 Alas ! I'm oft by gin defiled, 
 Yet Jesus loves the little child. 
 
 Egbert, Ilovey & King, Printers. 
 
 m