"It is Andrew's supper," was replied; and as Mrs. Howland said this,
her eyes drooped, abashed beneath the stern and rebuking gaze of her
husband.

"Esther! Is it possible!" exclaimed Mr. Howland. "Didn't I say that
Andrew must have nothing but bread and water for his supper?"

"He has had no dinner," murmured the mother.

"I don't care if he had nothing to eat for a week. I said he should
have only bread and water, and I meant what I said. Esther! I am
surprised at you. Of what avail will be efforts at correction, if
you counteract them in this way?"

Mrs. Howland never contended with her husband. In all expressed
differences of opinion, it was his habit to bear her down with an
imperious will. She was weak, and he was her strong tyrant. Not a
word more did she speak but returned to the dining-room, and
replaced the food she had prepared for Andrew by simple bread and
water.

The feelings of childhood never run for a long time in the same
channel. Very soon after entering his room, Andrew's mind lost its
sad impression, and began to search about for something to satisfy
its restless activity. First he got upon the chairs, and jumped from
one to another. This he continued until his feet passed through the
slender cane-works of one of them. Then he turned somersets on the
bed, until more than a handful of feathers were beaten out and
scattered about the room. Next he climbed up the posts and balanced