urse, very much fretted at this occurrence," said the
mother. "And you cannot much wonder at it, Andrew."

"He is more to blame than I am," was answered in an indignant tone.

"Don't speak of your father in that way, my son," said the mother, a
gentle reproof in her voice.

"I speak as I feel, mother. Is it not so?"

An argument on this subject Mrs. Howland would not hold with her
boy, and she therefore changed it; but she did not cease her appeals
to both his reason and his feelings, until he yielded to her wishes.
At supper time he joined the family at table--it was his first
meeting with his father since morning. Oh, what an intense desire
did he feel for a kind reception from his stern parent! It seemed to
him that such a reception would soften everything harsh and
rebellious, and cause him to throw himself at his feet, and make the
humblest confessions of error, and the most truthful promise of
future well doing. Alas! for the repentant boy! no such reception
awaited him. His father did not so much as turn his eyes upon his
son, and, during the meal, maintained a frigid silence. Andrew ate
but a few mouthfuls. He had no appetite for food. On leaving the
table, he went into one of the parlors, whither he was followed in a
little while, by his younger brother, Edward, who was, by nature,
almost as hard and unsympathsizing as his father. It was the first
time, on that day, that the two boys had been alone.

"Set a house on fire!" said Edward, in a half-sneering,
half-censorious, tantalizing voice.

"If you say that again, I'll knock you down!" fell sharply from the
lips of Andrew, in whom his father's repulsive coldness was
beginning to awaken bad feelings.

"Set a house on fire!" repeated Edward, in a tone still more
aggravating.

The words had scarcely left his tongue, ere the open hand of his
brother came along side of his head, with a force that knocked him
across the room. At this instant Mr. Howland entered. He made no
inquiry as to the cause of the blow he saw struck, but took it for
granted that it was an unprovoked assault of Andrew upon his
brother. Yielding to the impulse of the moment, he caught the former
by the arm, in a fierce grip, and struck him with his open hand, as
he had struck his brother, repeating the blow three or four times.

Andrew neither shrunk from the blows, cried out, nor offered the
smallest resistance, but stood firmly, until his incensed father had
satisfied his outraged