“I’m sure I could do it,” said he, at length rising from the place where he sat and walking with careful step to the edge of the roof, at the point above which the pole projected.  Grasping the pole firmly, he first leaned his body over until he could see in a perpendicular line to the pavement in the yard below, a distance of more than forty feet.  For a moment his head swam, as he looked from the dizzy height; but he shut his eyes and clung to the pole until self-possessed again.  Then he looked up at the bird-box and reaching his hands far above his head, grasped the pole firmly and drew his body a few inches, upward.  Clinging tightly with his legs to retain the slight elevation he had acquired, he moved his hands farther along the pole, and then drew himself higher up.  Thus he progressed until he had reached a point some five or six feet above the roof, when his strength became exhausted, and, unable to retain even the position he had acquired, his body slowly descended the pole, swinging around to the side opposite the roof.  On reaching the bottom it was as much as he could do to get himself once more in a position of safety, where he stood for a few moments, until he could recover himself.  He then tried the ascent again.  This time he nearly reached the box, when his strength once more failed him, and he had to slide down the pole as before.  But Andrew was not a lad to give up easily anything he attempted to do.  Difficulties but inspired him to new efforts, and he once more tried to effect the perilous ascent, firmly resolved to reach the box at the third trial.  In his eagerness, he became unconscious of all danger, and commenced clambering up the pole with as much confidence as if it had been placed on the ground.

Great violence had been done to the feelings of Mrs. Howland by her husband.  His stern rebuke hurt her exceedingly.  She did not feel that she was doing wrong in yielding to the appeals of her heart in favor of her wayward, ever-offending boy.  Her mother’s instinct told her, that he needed kindness, forbearance, and frequent exemption from punishment; and she felt that it was better for him to have this, even though in gaining it for him she acted in violation of her husband’s wishes and command—­yea, even though her child knew that such was the case.  Sadly was she aware of the fact, that the father’s iron-handed severity had nearly crushed affection out of the heart of his child; and that all obedience to him was extorted under fear of punishment.  And she well knew that her interference in his favor, while it could not estrange him from his father more than he was already estranged, would give her greater influence over him for good.  Such were the conclusions of her mind—­not arrived at by cold ratiocination, but by woman’s shorter way of perception.  And she knew that she was right.

Hurt in her own feelings was she, by her husband’s harsh, rebuking words, and sad for the sake of her boy, as she returned to the dining-room.  For some time she remained there, debating with herself whether she should stealthily convey something more than the bread and water to Andrew, or take him the meager supply of food his father had ordered.  In the end her feelings triumphed.  A large slice of cake and an apple were placed in her pocket.  Then with the bread and water she went up to her son’s chamber.