r, and she's good."

"Because your father doesn't wish you go to her house. Didn't he
punish you last evening for going there?"

At this the child grew impatient, and threw himself about with angry
gestures. Then he sat down and cried for a time bitterly, while his
mother strove, but in vain, to soothe him. For hours his
thoughts had been on his little friend, and now he cared for nothing
but to see her. Denied this privilege from mere arbitrary authority,
his mind had become fretted beyond his weak ability to control
himself.

It was, perhaps, an hour after this, that Mrs. Howland missed
Andrew, and fearful that he might have been tempted to disobey the
command laid upon him, raised the window and looked into the street.
Just as she did so, she saw him running back toward his home from
the house of Mr. Winters, on the steps of which sat Emily. Entering
quickly, she heard him close the street-door with a slight jar, as
if he designed making as little noise as possible.

"Where have you been, Andrew?" asked Mrs. Howland as soon as he came
up to her room, which he did soon after.

"Down in the kitchen with Jane," was replied without hesitation.

"Have you been nowhere else?" Mrs. Howland repented having asked
this question the moment it passed her lips, and still more when the
child answered as unhesitatingly as before, "No, ma'am."

Here was falsehood added to disobedience! Poor Mrs. Howland turned
her face away to grieve and ponder. She found herself in a narrow
path, and doubtful as to the steps to be taken. She said nothing
more, for she could not see clearly what it was best for her to say;
and she did nothing, for she could not see what it was best for her
to do. But she resolved to be watchful over her boy, lest he should
again be tempted into disobedience.

The mother's watchfulness, however, availed not. Ere night-fall
Andrew was with his little friend again. Unfortunately for him, the
pleasure he derived from her society caused him to forget the
passing of time, and his stolen delight was, in the end, suddenly
dispelled by the stern voice of his father, who passed the door of
Mr. Winters on his way homeward.

Slowly and in fear did the child obey the angry command to return
home. He knew that he would be punished with great severity, and he
was not mistaken. He was so punished. But did this avail anything?
No! On the next day he asked his mother to let him sit at the front
door.

"I'm afraid you'll