Come, little Sarah, again said Jane, go, gather the gooseberries.

Let her alone, Jane, said Thomas, I have told her what I expect her to do.

Jane looked wistfully at her as if she would persuade her.

Come on, my children, Thomas cheerfully said, we must make the most of time: Jane and her brothers moved briskly after their father, and were soon at the far end of the garden, and entered on their duty, following their father's spade, gathering out stones and large weeds as he threw them out in digging.

Little Sarah began to move, and with slow unwilling steps at last reached the gooseberry-tree, and after waiting a minute or two, as if debating between her conscience and her will, she sat down at the foot of the tree, and very deliberately began to pull the fruit one by one into the basket; she then began to cry, having pricked her finger with a thorn.

We went up to her; How many gooseberries are you to gather, Sarah ?

To fill my basket, she replied, sobbing.

The sooner the better, then, Sarah.

It pricks my fingers; father knows it pricks my fingers.

Be careful, and then you will not prick your fingers.
Looking at her fingers, she said, It bleeds, it does!
Must I
go and tell your father?

No, he won't take any notice.

What will you do, then?

She made no answer, but looking at her finger with some self-pity, drew the back of her hand over her eyes to wipe off the tears, and began the work again with caution.

Why, Sarah, do you go on gathering when you prick your fingers?

Father bid me.

Will you fill your basket?

Yes, father bid me.

You will be very long about it.

I'll make haste.

Who are they for?

For mother, father bid me take 'em to mother.

Does she want them for herself?

Nay, she sells 'em.

We remained by her, interested to observe whether she would accomplish her task; she was soon struck with two gooseberries which were particularly large; she then plucked a strawberry-leaf which was near her,

and putting it on one side of the basket, placed the two gooseberries in it.

What are you going to do with these fine large gooseberries?

One's for father, and one's for mother.

Take care of them, then, and make haste to fill your basket.

Yes, I will.

We moved on, and Louisa said, Do you not think, uncle, this little girl has taught us a very good lesson this morning?

I should like to have your sentiments upon it, my love.

Really I think I saw the natural dislike to obey; and the objection to the work set her because it was not agreeable to herself; but the respect for her father's command induced her to go. She complained as if she thought her father unreasonable, when she hurt herself; but then the command of her father impelled her to persevere; it was all because "father bid me;" and at last she began to delight in the opportunity of taking an offering to her father and mother, in such a pretty spirit of love, as gave a new motive for exertion. I think this is to "honor thy father and mother."