Easy As Pie!
When George was about six years old, he was made the wealthy master of a hatchet of which, like most little boys, he was immoderately fond, and was constantly going about chopping every thing that came in his way. One day, in the garden, where he often amused himself hacking his mother's pea-sticks, he unluckily tried the edge of his hatchet on the body of a beautiful young English cherry-tree, which he barked so terribly, that I don't believe the tree ever got the better of it. The next morning the old gentleman finding out what had befallen his tree, which, by the by, was a great favourite, came into the house, and with much warmth asked for the mischievous author, declaring at the same time, that he would not have taken five guineas for his tree. Nobody could tell him any thing about it. Presently George and his hatchet made their appearance. George, said his father, do you know who killed that beautiful little cherry-tree yonder in the garden? This was a tough question; and George staggered under it for a moment; but quickly recovered himself: and looking at his father, with the sweet face of youth brightened with the inexpressible charm of all-conquering truth, he bravely cried out, "I can't tell a lie, Pa; you know I can't tell a lie. I did cut it with my hatchet."--Run to my arms, you dearest boy, cried his father in transports, run to my arms; glad am I, George, that you killed my tree; for you have paid me for it a thousand fold. Such an act of heroism in my son is more worth than a thousand trees, though blossomed with silver, and their fruits of purest gold.

Yet, now George’s father had to clear the tree from his land. The trunk was big, the wood too heavy. With the wisdom of a future general and president, little George suggested, “We will require several men who have the strength of oxen.” George’s father replied, “But the land is wet from the rains, this will require boots and training.”

Even at the tender age of six, George knew what to do. He saddled his white horse, crossed the river and rode into town. He tied-his horse up directly in front of the Labour Finders office and confidently strode in.

The Labour Finders manager asked, “Young George, to what do I owe this pleasure?” George replied, “I need several of the strongest men to gather a cherry tree that has fallen. However, I have only a few guineas to pay. The land is wet, the tree heavy”

The manager replied, “I will send the strongest men, with tall boots, who are experienced in clearing trees. They are well-trained, insured. We will take care of the entire King’s taxes as well.”

In honor of President Washington’s birthday, depend upon Labor Finders. This may be a fable, but we cannot tell a lie, using Labor Finders is as easy as pie!

Thanks to Mason Locke Weems, The Life of Washington for the story of young George.
 
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