A LITTLE girl had a bed of strawberries. Very anxious was she that they should ripen, and be fit to eat. 

The time came. "Now for a feast," said her brother to her one morning, as he gathered some beautiful ones for her to eat. 

"I cannot eat these, "said she; 

"for they are the first ripe fruit." 

"Well," said her brother, "then it is all the more reason for making a feast; for they are the greatest treat." 

"Yes; but they are the first ripe fruit." 

"Well, what of that?" 

"Dear father told me that God once commanded his people to give the first fruit of all their increase to the Lord, and father said that he always gave to God the first of all the money he made, and that then he always felt happier in spending the rest; and so I wish to give the first of my strawberries to God, too.' 

' "Ah! but," said her brother "how can you give strawberries to God and, even if you could, he would not care for them." 

"Oh! I have found out a way," said she. "Jesus said, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my bretheren, ye have done it unto me, (Matt 25:40.); and I mean to go with them to Mrs. Perkins's sick child, who never sees a strawberry, they are so poor."—