Soon after this Mrs. Penrose went to New-York, and took Alfred and Flora with her. There they saw many beautiful things. As they rode up from the wharf, they were continually calling out, “O, mamma, look at that window!” or, “O, mamma, see that picture!” and, “O, what is that high building?” and, “Who is that queer-looking person?”

Their mamma shook her head, and said,

“Children, try to be quiet. Look as much as you like, but do not ask me any questions now.”

The carriage rattled over the pavement, and there were so many other noises around, that she could not hear their questions.

When they stopped at the house of the friend with whom they were to stay, they saw much that was very beautiful. There were pictures and vases, and many things that they had never seen or thought of in their little simple country home. But Alfred thought that nothing in the house was as pretty as what he saw from the back windows. It was a garden, filled with flowers. He was delighted when he was told that he might spend as much time there as he liked. Alfred was a real little country boy, and he loved flowers dearly. In this garden were purple and white petunias, and roses of many shades, and of different colors. Sweet mignionette, too, grew there; and there was the delicate cypress-vine, with its feathery stalk, and its little bright flower. There were grape-vines too, which climbed a trellice that leaned against the high brick wall. On the vines hung grapes; but they were still quite green and hard.

Alfred’s mamma told him that he might walk in this garden; but that he must never pick any of the flowers, or the grapes. She thought that she might trust the little boy, who kept his word so well about the dogs.

Some days after this, when Flora was taking her nap, Alfred’s mamma wanted him for something; and, from the garden door, called him to come to her. While she waited, she saw him coming toward her, with his little mouth puckered up, as if he had something in it. She called,

“Come here, Alfred.”

And Alfred came up the steps very slowly.

“What have you got in your mouth, my dear?” said Alfred’s mamma.

Not one word did Alfred answer; but he looked down, and turned very red. His mother knew, from his looks, that he had been doing something that was not right. He did not have that bright, happy face which he usually wore.

Alfred’s mother said to him,

“My son, open your mouth.”

When Alfred opened his mouth, O, how sorry I am to tell it of him! he showed a large green grape, tucked away in the corner of his mouth, which he put into his hand as quickly as possible. His mamma took the grape out of Alfred’s hand, and led him up stairs into her bed-room. She said to him,

“Alfred, how many of those grapes have you eaten?”

“Just one besides this, mamma,” said he, crying very much.

“Why did you eat them, Alfred?” said his mother. “Did not I tell you that you must not do so?”

“Yes, mamma; but they looked so very good.”

“My dear little boy, that was the reason that Eve ate the apple which made us all sinners. She thought it looked good. It ‘was pleasant to the sight.’ Did you not tell me, the other day, that you thought Eve was very naughty to eat the apple; and that you would not have done as she did? But you see you have done just like her. She disobeyed God by eating the apple, and you have disobeyed him by eating that green grape.”

Alfred. “Mamma, God did not tell me that I must not eat the grape.”

Mamma. “Yes, Alfred, he told you so through me; for it is for me to tell you what the will of God is: and you did not follow God’s commandment to ‘obey your parents’ when you ate that green grape. I did not see you eat it, but God did; and God does not love little boys, you know very well, who disobey their parents.”

Alfred continued to cry, and said,

“O, I am so sorry, mamma!”

His mamma told him to go into his room, and stay there by himself, that he might think over what a naughty boy he had been.

Alfred went; and when his mamma followed him, some time afterward, he came to her, and said,

“Mamma, I was very wicked, I know. But I have prayed to God to forgive me, because Jesus Christ died. Don’t you think he will, mamma?”

His mother said,

“Yes, my dear, I have no doubt that he will forgive you, if you are sorry for your sin, and are determined never again to do such a naughty thing. God has forgiven us all a great many sins; and he is still gracious and merciful. It is written, ‘Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.’ Isa. lv, 7.”

From that time, I am glad to be able to say, little Alfred always told the truth; and would never stop to look at anything that he had been told not to touch; but hasten from it, that he might not be tempted to do as he had done about the grapes.