discouragement, he refrained from saying anything to him about his
bad conduct. Indeed, in view of this second narrow escape from
death, his feelings were a good deal softened toward Andrew, and
something like pity took the place of anger. During the two days
that the lad was convalescing, his father said little to him; but
what little he did say was spoken kindly, and with more of a
parental sentiment therein than had been apparent for years.
Electrically did this sentiment reach the heart of Andrew. Once when
Mr. Howland took his hand, and asked in a kind voice how he felt,
tears rushed to his eyes, and his lips quivered so that he could not
reply. This was perceived by Mr. Howland, and he felt that his boy
was not altogether given over to hardness of heart. In that moment
Andrew promised in his own mind, that in future he would be a more
obedient boy.

Unhappily, Mr. Howland attributed this subdued and better state of
feeling in his son, to the narrow escape from drowning that he had
had, and not to the real cause--the change of his own manner toward
him. Through the feeble moving of sympathy and kindness in his own
heart, there was the beginning of power over the perverse boy, and
this power might have been exercised, had the father possessed
enough of wisdom and self-denial, until he had gained a complete
control over him. But alas! he did not possess this wisdom and
self-denial. He was a hard man, and believed in no virtue but that
of force. He could drive, but not lead. He could hold with an iron
hand, but not restrain by a voice full of the power of kindness.
Before the close of the second day he spoke harshly to Andrew, and
did, thereby, such violence to the boy's feelings, that he turned
his face from him and wept.