w gazed at the young birds, the more desirous did he
become to get them in his possession. Over and over again he
measured the height and thickness of the pole with his eyes,
calculating, all the while, his ability to climb it, and the amount
of danger attendant on the adventure.

"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