The weekly herald. [volume] (Cleveland, Tenn.) 1876-1888, 1879-04-17
The Gold Chain.

A dreary November twilight. Dead
caves raining down at every guest OF
he inconstant wind-strange. spicy
scents rising out Of the ground-and a
new moon hanging like sickle of
blood low over the purpled dark of the
southerly sky.
Dreary and chilly; a dying year; a
fast gathering dusk; yet the windows
of Mrs. OXgate's old brown farmhouse
hung out their CHEEKY signals behind
the fringed cotton curtains, and when
the kitchen door opened you could see
the red shine of the blazing logs, the
figures coming and going, like minia-
ture magic lantern.
1t was Dora Oxgate who opened 1t,
and came fitting out to the well, with
a scarlet shawl fastened over her head 4,
aud an empty cedar pail in her hand.
As her light feet pattered over the car
pet of autumn leaves in the pathway,
she sang a snatch Cf good old-fash-
ioned hymn.
"My goodness alive! What's that?"
For as the words trilled sweetly from
her tongue, a tall, dark figure had risen
from the low wooden bench under the
apple tree, whose boughs overhung
the well.
'Don't be alarmed" said deep,
sweet contralto, with a scornful into
nation in its sound. "lt's only me,
Dora. Joanna Elfield. What then
Have | fallen so low that am no lon
ger worthy to sit beneath the old apple
Tree? If so, tell me at once, and I'll
quit"
"You know that did not mean that
Joanna"
"It's hard to tell what people mean
or don't mean, nowadays, " said joan
ma, picking at the NANCY fringe of the
frayed rag of shawl. 81 was tired. l
wanted a'drink of water, so came to
the old well. "I'll 90 away if you
say so."
Joanna" said Dora, hesitatingly,
'are you hungry
Hungry" No. There's a sort of
craving, though, in my stomach, which
is next to it, | suppose"
"Would you like something to eat?"
T don't beg"
"Wait minute, Joanna,
Like an arrow, Dora Oxgate sped
back into the house, where her thrifty
mother was just setting the teapot on
the table. Fresh baked wafiles steamed
on one side, hot biscuits were piled in
drifts of snow on the other; preserves
CLEANED redly through the cut-glass
walls of the tall dish, and limpld honey
oozed from lump of comb. For Mrs.
Deacon Peabody and her daughter
Comfort had come to tea, and Mrs.
Oxgate was a housewife to be eXcelled
by none.
"Come, Dora, quick with that
water" said Mrs. Oxgate. "And shut
the door. What do you suppose is the
use of fires, if"
Mother" said Dora, speaking in a
slightly embarrassed tone, "Joanna Ell
field is out by the well! She is cold
and hungry, and"
Mrs. OXgate's face hardened into
lines of stone. Miss Comfort Peabody
drew her skirts close around her, with
an involuntary movement, and Mrs
Peabody looked hard into the bowl OF
her teacup.
"Then let her stay cold and hung
ry, for all of mel Joanna Eliield is nC
associate for either you or me, Dora
She has run away from home, and act
ed with common strolling play actors
she has sung at low concerts instead
of keeping that fine voice of hers fol
the temple of the Lord--she has, of hel
own free will, given up all that is de-
cent and reputable, and people do say
that she has taken to drinking! And
you expect me to open my door to such
as her !"
Mrs. Peabody uttered sympathetic
groan.
"But, Mamma" faltered Dora, half.
affrighted at her own boldness," dom
YOU remember that He came to call
not the righteous, but sinners to repcn
tencep'
"Silencc, girl How dare you quot
the Scriptures to mep" cried Mrs. o.
gate, her stern brow clouding owe
darkly. "Bring in that pail of waite
at once, aud letus have no further dis
cussion."
- Thus rebulled, Theodore Oxgat'
crept back again into the chill, frosty
twilight detected and empty-hahded'
"Ah," said Joanna Elaeld, shortly
81 thought how 1t would be. Well, IT.
nothing new. Everybody's doors ar'
shut against me-"
as It true, JoannaW whispered DO
ra, coming close to her.
"Is what trueW
"That you drink"
"Of course it's true. You -woul
drink If you were driven as | am
Driven and hunted There are time
when you would sell your whole sou
for chance to forget! And tina