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Bacheller, Irving, 1859-1950

"Darrel of the Blessed Isles"

She went below stairs to the fire, which every cold
day was well fed until after midnight, and began to enjoy the sight
of her own gifts. They were a haunch of venison, a sack of flour,
a shawl, and mittens. A small package had fallen to the floor. It
was neatly bound with wrappings of blue paper. Under the last
layer was a little box, the words "For Polly" on its cover. It
held a locket of wrought gold that outshone the light of the
candles. She touched a spring, and the case opened. Inside was a
lock of hair, white as her own. There were three lines cut in the
glowing metal, and she read them over and over again:--
"Here are silver and gold,
The one for a day of remembrance between thee and dishonour,
The other for a day of plenty between thee and want."
She went to her bed, presently, where the girl lay sleeping, and,
lifting dark masses of her hair, kissed a ruddy cheek. Then the
widow stood a moment, wiping her eyes.


XIII
A Christmas Adventure
Long before daylight one could hear the slowing of the wind. Its
caravan now reaching eastward to mid-ocean was nearly passed.
Scattered gusts hurried on like weary and belated followers. Then,
suddenly, came a silence in which one might have heard the dust of
their feet falling, their shouts receding in the far woodland.


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