y. No house was near, no
person was in sight. None but God could see me, and I forgot that His
eye looked down upon me.

"I resolved to taste the tempting fruit. I climbed the tree and began to
pick the rich, ripe cherries. But I found no pleasure in the taste of
them; I was so fearful of surprise and detection. Some one might come
and find me in the tree. I therefore resolved to break off some
richly-loaded boughs, and feast upon the cherries as I hastened home.

"The top of the tree was bowed with the weight of its fruit. I climbed
as high as I could, and bending down the top, attempted to cut it off
with my knife. In my eagerness to secure my prize, I did not guard my
left hand, which held down the top of the tree. My knife slipped from
the yielding wood to my fingers, and passed with unspent force across
all the fingers of my left hand, cutting the flesh to the bone.

"I never could look at fresh blood without fainting. My eye caught sight
of the red drops that oozed from every finger, and my heart began to die
within me. I slipped through the limbs of the tree to the ground. The
shock of the fall drove away the faintness, and I soon stood upon my
feet.

[Illustration]

"I wrapped my handkerchief about my bleeding fingers, and hurried home.
My mission was worse than useless; I had not accomplished the purpose
for which I was sent, I had committed a crime and disabled myself for
work; for how could I pick apples in my present condition.

"I found no sympathy from anybody; my father reproved me, and threatened
chastisement when my wounds were healed. My mother, who dressed my
aching fingers, looked very sorrowfully upon me, and I knew that I had
grieved her deeply by my disobedience.

"I assisted in picking the apples, but I was compelled to work with one
hand, while the other hung in a sling. That was a sad day for me.

"It required some weeks to heal the deep gashes made by my knife, and
the scars are as bright, after forty years, as they were when the wounds
were first closed.

"But if the scars in the flesh were all, it would have been
comparatively a trifle. But the soul was wounded as well as the body.
The conscience was defiled with guilt. Tears of repentance could not
wipe away the stain. Nothing but the blood of Christ could give health
to the wounded spirit.

"As wounds leave scars, so, my dear child, youthful sins leave the
traces of their existence. Like the scars of the healed wound, they
dis