He had no mother to come and watch beside that couch, no kind gentle
sister, no loving father. He was an orphan, taken care of by an uncle
and aunt, who had no experience in training children, and were
accustomed to view young persons in the light of evils, which it was
unfortunately necessary to _bear_ until the _fault_ of youth should have
passed away. Will you not then cease to wonder that Joe seemed to have
so little heart? Affection needs to be cultivated; his uncle thought
that in sending him to school and giving him a good education, he was
doing his duty by the boy. His aunt considered that if in the holidays
she let him rove about as he pleased, saw to the repairs of his clothes,
sent him back fitted out comfortably, with a little pocket money and a
little _advice_, she had done _her_ duty by the child. But poor Joe! No
kind mother ever stole to his bedside to whisper warnings and gentle
reproof if the conduct of the day had been wrong; no knee ever bent to
ask for grace and blessing on that orphan boy; no sympathy was ever
expressed in one of his joys or griefs; no voice encouraged him in
self-denial; no heart rejoiced in his little victories over temper and
pride.
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