Then he read them aloud, "G-E-O-R-G-E W-A-S-H-I-N-G-T-O-N." With wondering eyes he rushed to the house, and excitedly broke the news. "Oh, pa, come here! come here!" "What's the matter, my son? what's the matter?" responded his father. "Oh, come here, I tell you, pa; come here!" and the boy could scarcely contain himself, so great was his excitement. "But what is it, my son? Can't you tell me what has happened?" "Come here, and I'll show you the greatest sight you ever saw in your life!" By this time he was pulling his father along towards the garden, the latter understanding full well what had happened. Very soon they reached the bed, where the bright, thrifty cabbage plants had spelled the name of GEORGE WASHINGTON in full. "There, pa!" exclaimed George, pointing to his name in cabbage plants, and exhibiting the greatest astonishment by his appearance. "Did you ever see such a sight in all your life-time?" "Well, George, it does seem like a curious affair sure enough," his father answered. "But who should make it there, pa? Who made it there?" "Why, it _grew_ there, of course, my son." "No, pa! No, no! somebody put it there." "Then you think it did not grow there by _chance_?" "No, indeed, it never did. That couldn't be." "How is that, my son? Don't it look very much like _chance_?" "Why, no, pa; did you ever know anybody's name in a plant bed before?" "Well, George, might not such a thing happen though I never saw it before?" "Yes, pa; but I never saw plants grow up so as to make a single letter of my name before. How could they grow up so as to make _all_ the letters of my name! And all standing one after another so as to spell my name exactly--and all so nice and even, too, at top and bottom! Somebody did it. _You_ did it, pa, to scare me, because I am your little boy." "Well, George, you have guessed right," answered Mr. Washington. "I did do it, but not to scare you, my son, but to teach you a great truth which I wish you to understand. I want to introduce you to your _true_ Father." "Ain't you my _true_ father, pa?" "Yes, I am your father, George, as the world calls it, and love you with a father's love. Yet, with all my love for you, I am but a poor father in comparison with your _true_ Father." "I know well enough whom you mean," continued George. "You mean God, don't you?" "Yes, I mean Him, indeed, my son. _He_ is your _true_ Father," was Mr. Washington's hearty answer. George went on with his inquiries, and his father, answered, adding at last: