" This advice was very good, but it is to be feared
that the farmer profited but little by it. Through fear of her stern
husband Mrs. Judson finally ceased to mention attending church; but
often on a Sunday afternoon, when he was either asleep or walking over
his farm, she would seat herself in a quiet corner of the large
kitchen and read her Bible, and perhaps sing a hymn to some of the
old-fashioned plaintive airs, which formed a large portion of the Church
Music in her youthful days. I remember when I lived at the Farmer's, I
used often to think it no wonder that Mrs. Judson almost always sung her
Sunday hymn to the air of "Complaint," and read more frequently in the
book of Job and the Lamentations of Jeremiah than any other portion of
the Bible. The poor lonely woman seemed to feel a mother's tenderness
for me, which manifested itself in many little acts of kindness, when
unobserved by her husband, who took good care that no undue indulgence
should be shown to any one under his roof. I soon learned to regard the
old lady with all the affection of which I was capable; and it was her
kindness alone which rendered my position endurable.
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