articlesforchristians

Children,” said father, “I must have you work for me this morning.”

“What shall we do?” asked Polly. “I almost always like the things you ask us to do.”

“This time I am sure that you will like it,” said father. “You see, mother is ready to make some jelly. And the apples are ready to be made into jelly.”

“Goody, goody!” cried Polly.

“Goody, goody!” cried Peter.

“Why are you saying that?” asked father.

“Because I like apples,” said Peter.

“Because I like jelly,” said Polly.

“Then come with me, children. Put on your boots. The grass is still wet with dew. Here are two baskets. You may fill them. When they are filled, bring them to mother.”

“Shall we fill them just once?” asked Polly. “That isn’t much work.”

“Oh, no. You must fill them as many times as mother says.”

“They are so small that they will not hold many big apples,” said Polly. “I could carry a larger basket, and so could Peter.”

“These are large enough,” said father. “And you are not going to fill them with large apples, but with crab apples. They make good jelly. Some of the large apples are not ripe yet.

“Here we are. Now I will get up in this tree. I will shake the branches. Keep out from underneath. If you do not, you will get hit.”

Father climbed the tree. He shook the branches. Down came the crab apples.

“Oh father! How pretty they are!” shouted Polly. “They are red and yellow. Do you think that the jelly will be red and yellow, too?”

“There were some on the ground before,” said Peter. “But just look at them now. It will take us all day to pick them up.”

“I shall take the very largest ones, Peter,” said Polly. “Maybe they will make the best jelly.”

Polly and Peter filled their baskets. Mother emptied them. She said, “Please get me some more. I must make many tumblers of jelly. It will be for you to eat next winter.”

“Will the largest crab apples make the best jelly, mother?” asked Polly.

“I think not. But bring me those that have not been lying on the ground, if you can.”

“I will fill my basket before you fill yours, Peter,” shouted Polly. “Come and let us race.”

This time the baskets were full before mother was ready for the apples. The children thought that this was a joke.

They hurried back for more. Peter set his basket down and picked up the apples with both hands. His basket was almost full, when he fell against it.

Over it went and the apples were spilled out. He did not like this very well.

Polly said, “I will wait for you. It is no use to hurry so. I will stop working and eat one of these big apples. They are ripe.”

“How do you know?” asked Peter. “If they are not, you will have a stomach ache.”

“The seeds are all black. See!” said Polly. “Besides, father took some into the house last night. He told mother that they were ripe. So I dare to eat one.”

“Then I will eat one, too, Polly. I am hungry. I have worked hard.”

“You are always hungry, Peter. And I think that you ought to work hard enough to put those apples back into your basket.”

“Wait until I get this big one eaten and I will,” said Peter. “You don’t eat yours very fast. I think that you are afraid of it.”

Polly had been walking about. She had been kicking the apples which lay on the ground. She had been watching the clouds. She had forgotten all about eating her apple. You see, she was not very hungry.

“I am not afraid,” she said. And she put the apple to her mouth for a bite.

But she did not take that bite. Instead, she dropped the apple. She opened her mouth wide. She cried, “Ow, ow, ow!”

“What is it? Oh, what is it?” asked Peter.

“Something stung me!” said Polly. “Something stung me on my tongue. I know what it was, too. It was a wasp. I saw him eating my apple a minute ago.”

Mother looked at Polly’s tongue. It was swollen.

“Poor Polly,” she said. “I am sorry. But it is not a very bad sting. It will soon feel better. Why did you put the wasp into your mouth?”

“He was on the apple when I took a bite, mother. So he got into my mouth.”

“I guess he did not like it,” said Peter.” I guess, he flew away as soon as Polly said, ‘Ow.'”

Mother laughed. “Oh Polly,” she said, “this will teach you something new. When father comes home, he will say that you must always ‘ Look before you bite.’ “