Page:Tender Grass for Little Lambs.pdf/49

 the remorseful whisper of conscience. It was only just inside the fence they had been, yet what an ugly mark had sin set upon their fair brows. Poor little children are we all, forbidden pleasure smiles and beckons to us just in- side the fence, our longing glances linger there, our feet stray thitherwards. It is just a little, no one sees us, and we put forth our hands and pluck the flowers whose fatal beauty is a snare to the soul. Only just inside the fence, but that fence is set between us and sin. On one side of it we may walk safely in the king's highway, but the other side leads to