A few miles from the village of Elmwood lived Mr. Judson, a rich farmer,
he might properly be termed rich in this world's goods, for, besides the
broad acres which comprised the two farms in one where he resided, he
was the owner of several houses in the village, which brought him a
handsome annual income. The chief aim of his life appeared to be the
acquisition of money, and, when once it came into his possession, it was
guarded with miserly care. The very countenance and manner of the Farmer
bespoke his nature. Aided by memory, I see him now as I saw him years
ago:--he was of medium height, strong and muscular, but thin in flesh.
His hair had once been black, but was then sprinkled thickly with gray;
he had small piercing, restless black eyes that seemed to look several
ways at once. His nose was of the form which I have often heard styled a
hawk-bill; and, altogether, there was a sort of dry, hard look about the
man which rendered his personal appearance repulsive and disagreeable.
His constant care and anxiety was to get the largest possible amount of
labor out of those in his employ; consequently, he was always in a hurry
himself, and striving to hurry every one else. His farm-laborers used to
say that he kept his eyes in such unceasing motion, to see that every
thing went right on all sides, that a restless, roving expression of the
eyes had become natural to him. Though living only a few miles distant,
neither my mother nor myself knew any thing of the character of this
man; and when he came to engage me to do "chores and light work" as he
termed it, we gladly accepted his offer, as my mother had the idea that
residing for a time upon a farm (if not overworked) would have a
beneficial effect upon my health and constitution. Many wondered when
it became known that I had gone to live with Farmer Judson; but each one
kept their thoughts to themselves. When I took my place at the Farmer's
I soon found that, if my work was light, there was likely to be plenty
of it. I did not complain of this, for I expected to work; but what made
my position almost unbearable was the constant habit of fault-finding in
which my employer indulged. He was dreaded and feared by all under his
roof. He was constantly on the watch for waste and expenditure
within-doors, and without there could never be enough done to satisfy
him; do your best, and he always thought you should have done more. As
I have before said, I was very fond of books, and I had counted upon
having my evenings at my own disposal that I might still do something in
the way of self improvement; but I soon learned that books were quite
out of the question in my new home. There was either corn to shell or
errands to perform; in short, there was something to keep me busy till
nearly bed-time every night. I used sometimes to think the farmer used
to study up something to keep me busy on purpose to keep me from study.
I believe my greatest fault in his eyes was my love of books. He was
entirely without education himself, which, (in a great measure)
accounted for his narrow and sordid mind; he looked upon any time
devoted to books or mental culture as a dead loss.
"What's the use of botherin' over books," he would often say; and would
often add in a boasting manner, "I don't know _a_ from _b_, and if I do
say it myself, where will you find a man who has got along better in the
world than I have done." If getting along well with the world consists
only in hoarding up dollars and cents till every feeling of tenderness
and benevolence toward the rest of mankind becomes benumbed and
deadened, then truly Mr. Judson _had_ got along remarkably well. His
door was but a sorry place to ask charity, as every one could testify
who ever tried the experiment. It was reported that a poor woman once
called at the house and asked for food. The farmer chanced to be from
home, and his wife, thinking he might not return for a time, ventured
to prepare a comfortable meal for the poor traveller; but, as fate would
have it, he returned before the weary traveller had partaken of the meal
prepared for her. As soon as he saw how matters stood he gave his wife
a stern rebuke for "encouraging beggars"; and, with many harsh words,
ordered the woman to leave the house. The poor woman rose wearily to
obey the command, and, as she was passing from the room, she turned, and
fixing her eyes upon Mr. Judson, said in a stern voice, "I am poor and
needy--it was hunger alone which compelled me to ask charity--but with
all your riches I would not exchange places with you who have the heart
to turn from your door one in need of food; surely, out of your
abundance you might have at the least given food to one in want; but go
on hoarding up your dollars, and see how much softer they will make your
dying pillow." It was said that the farmer actually turned pale as the
woman left the house. Perhaps his conscience was not quite dead, and it
may be that a shadow from the events of future years, even then, fell
across his mind. It would have been difficult to find two natures more
unlike than were those of Mr. Judson and his wife. The former was
stingy, even to miserly niggardliness, as well as ill-tempered, sullen
and morose, while the latter was one of the most kind-hearted and
motherly old ladies imaginable, that is, had her kindly nature been
allowed to exhibit itself. As it was, not daring to act according to the
dictates of her own kind heart, through fear of her stern companion, she
had in the course of years, become a timid broken-spirited woman. In her
youthful days she had been a regular attendant at church, she also was a
valuable teacher in the sabbath-school; but, after marrying Lemuel
Judson, she soon found that all religious privileges of a social nature
were at an end. Poor man, money was the god he worshipped; and so
entirely did the acquisition of wealth engross his mind that every other
emotion was well-nigh extinguished. He seldom, if ever, entered a place
of public worship, and did what he could to prevent his wife from doing
so. She did at the first venture a feeble remonstrance when he refused
on Sundays to drive to the village church, but, as this was her first
attempt at any thing like opposition to his wishes, he determined it
should be her last, for he assailed her with every term of abusive
language at his command, and these were not a few, for his command of
language of this sort was something marvelous too listen to, and, if his
words and phrases were not always in strict accordance with the rules of
grammar, they certainly were sharp and pointed enough to answer his
purpose very well. From the sour expression of his countenance, as well
as the biting words which often fell from his tongue, the village boys
applied to him the name "vinegar face," sometimes varied by "old
vinegar Judson." Like all village boys, they were inclined on holidays
and Saturday afternoons to roam away to the neighbouring farms. Mr.
Judson always drove them from his premises the moment they set foot
hereon, and in a short time he learned that, as the saying is, there was
no love lost between them. He one day gave one of these boys a smart
blow with his horse-whip the boy had ventured into the hayfield among
the laborers. The blow of course caused him to take to his heels, but
from that time the whole band were in league against the farmer. If he
left a horse tied in the village, he would sometimes find him shorn of
his mane, and often a hopeless rent in his buffalo; and, as far as he
could find out, the deed was done by "nobody at all." As he was driving
leisurely homeward on a very dark night he suddenly came upon a number
of boys near the end of the village street, and one of the boys called
out loud enough for him to hear, "there goes old vinegar Judson;"
another emboldened by his companion, next addressed him with the
question; "What's the market price of vinegar, old man? you ought to
know if any one does, for you must drink a lot of it or you wouldn't be
so cross and ugly." It was a very dark night, and the farmer was unable
to distinguish one from the other, and horse-whip in hand he made a rush
among the whole crowd, who dispersed in all directions. He was not agile
enough to overtake a fast retreating army in the dark, and was forced to
abandon the pursuit. As he turned to pursue his journey homeward, a
voice from out of the darkness, again addressed him, saying, "don't you
only wish you could catch us, old vinegar man?" Knowing that further
pursuit would be useless, he proceeded on his way, uttering threats of
future vengeance. He did spend a portion of the following day in trying
to find out the boys who had insulted him; but all his efforts to that
end were without success. A gentleman to whom he complained ventured to
remark: "I fear, Mr. Judson, that in a great measure you have yourself
to blame for all this, for you ever treat the boys with unkindness; and,
without reason and experience to guide them, can you wonder that they
render evil for evil. If you exercised more of the spirit of kindness
in your casual intercourse with the boys, I think it would be better for
both you and them." 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. I sought in many
ways to lighten her labors, for, even in the busiest seasons, no help
was allowed her to perform all the household work; and I soon found many
ways of making myself useful.