In 1754, a war broke out which we call the "French and In-di-an War." The Eng-lish had at this time a great strip of land on our coast which they held as their own. It was like a string to the great bow of French land, which went from Que-bec to New Or-leans. Both French and Eng-lish laid claim to part of the land; and those who had the wish to live in peace could not but look on in fear. The French built three forts, and that made all feel that they meant to hold the land. A young man by the name of George Wash-ing-ton, was sent to ask that they should pull down these forts. You have heard of George Wash-ing-ton, I know. You have been told that he was "first in peace, first in war, and first in the hearts of all." You have, I am sure, heard the tale of the fruit tree that he cut, and how he could not tell a lie to save him. He was a boy then, and some one had made his heart glad with the gift of a small axe. What should a boy do with such a thing, if he could not cut with it? So George went round to try the sharp edge of his axe, and, as bad luck would have it, he came on a young fruit tree. It may be that the fruit was of a rare kind, and so when it was found that the bark of the tree had been cut in such a way that one could hope for no more fruit, the cry rang out on all sides, "Who has done this deed?" Our small boy was not at peace in his own mind. He did not know in what shape the wrath might fall on him; but he came forth in a brave way and said, "I did it, Father, I can not tell a lie. I cut it." We are glad there has been one boy who could not tell a lie, and we hope there are some in our own times. So this George Wash-ing-ton, then a young man, was sent to the French man who was at the head of the forts, to say that he must take them down at once. He had a hard time to get there, for it was cold, and the streams were big with the rains. The snow fell and froze as it fell. His horse gave out, and he had to go on foot. He had one man with him, and they struck out in to the woods. They had to cross a stream on a rude raft, and they were caught in the ice. It bore them on with great speed, and when Wash-ing-ton threw out his pole to check the speed, he fell in the stream. But he knew how to swim, and so he got to land. When day came, it grew still more cold, and the stream froze in such a way that he could walk on it to the place where he would be.