The Iron Rule | Page 7

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 go into Mr. Winters," said Mrs. Howland, in reply.
"Oh, no; indeed I won't, mother," was the ready answer.
"If you disobey me, I can't let you go to the door again."
"Oh, I won't disobey you," replied the child.
"Very well, Andrew, I'll trust you. Now, don't deceive me."
The child promised over and over again, and Mrs. Howland trusted him.
Ten minutes afterward she looked out, but he (sic) wasnowhere to be
seen. A domestic was sent to the house of Mr. Winters, where Andrew
was found, as happy as a child could be, playing with his little friend
Emily. On being reproved by his mother for this act of disobedience, he
looked earnestly in her face and said--
"You won't tell father, will you? He'll whip me so, and I don't like to be
whipped."
"But why did you go in there?" said Mrs. Howland. "Haven't we
forbidden you? And didn't you promise me that if I'd let you go to the
front door, you would stay there?"
"I couldn't help it, mother," replied Andrew.
"Oh, yes, you could."

"Indeed I couldn't, mother. I saw Emily, and then I couldn't help it."
There was an expression in the child's voice as he said this, that thrilled
the feelings of his mother. She felt that he spoke only the simple
truth--that he could not help doing as he had done.
"But Andrew must help it," she was constrained to reply. "Mother can't
let him go to the front door again."
"You won't tell father, will you?" urged the child, lifting, earnestly, his
large, bright, innocent eyes to his mother's face. "Say, you won't tell
him?"
Grieved, perplexed, and troubled, Mrs. Howland knew not what to say,
nor how to act.
"Dear mother!" urged the boy, "you won't tell father? Say you won't?"
And tears began to glisten beneath his eyelids.
"Andrew has been disobedient," said the mother, trying to assume an
offended tone. "Will he be so anymore?"
"If you won't tell father, I'll be good."
The mother sighed, and fixed her gaze musingly on the floor. Her
thoughts were still more confused, and her mind in still greater
perplexity. Ah, if she only knew what was right!
"I will not tell your father this time," she at length said, "but don't ask
me, if you are again disobedient."
But of what avail was the child's promises. He had strong feelings, a
strong will, and, though so very young, much endurance. A law, at
variance almost with a law of his nature, had been arbitrarily enacted,
and he could not obey it. As well might his father have shut him up,
hungry, in a room filled with tempting food, and commanded him not
to touch or taste it. Had an allegation of evil conduct been brought
against Emily Winters; had any right reason for the interdiction been

given, then Mr. Howland might have had some power over the strong
will and stronger inclinations of the child. But into the mind of Andrew,
young as he was, came a sense of injustice and wrong on the part of his
father, and there was no willingness, from filial duty, to yield
obedience in a