The San Francisco call., 1905-04-04
LITTLE LANTERNS
:; OF THE SOUL :.
BY SIDNEY H. COLE

IN the library Of the villa the two
4 men faced each other. The little
red-shaded lamp dimly lighted the
big, luxurious room. Outside, the
last traces of the soft Italian twi-
light were fading in the west. and the
/ first of the myriad stars were blinking,
uncertain yellow dots in the blue vel
vet sky.
+. Orne senior lifted his piercing black
eyes and looked at his son searchingly.
You're q common ne 'er-do-wen, he
burst out, "a gambler, loafer. rake.
You squander a fortune at the gaming
tables and come whining to me for
where you lost it. I'm through with
you
Young Orne drew himself up.
Father" he began.
Pm done with you," the older man
thundered. Il wash my hands of you.
AS God is my judge, III cut you on
without cent. Go out into the world
into the mire of ruin you've been delv-
ing in. It's all one to me-"
Young Orne stroye silently TO the
door, turned, hesitated, then hurried
through the hall into the soft night
without. The last streak of red was
gone from the west. Far below him at
the foot Of the slope the little village
was agleam with lights. He noticed
that even in the trees tiny luminous
pinpoints of light shone steadily. Then
he remembered that it was st. John S
eve and that the lights were part
of the fiesta
He descended the steps and strode
across the terraces and through the
villa gardens. AS he came to a group
OF olive trees just beyond the sundial,
he saw dimly q girlish figure standing
beneath one of the trees. There was
the rasp Of a match: tiny Chinese
lantern was lighted; and in its mel
low plow he saw plainly the girls up
turned face as she reached up to fasten
the lantern to a low hanging branch.
1t was Ethelyn Hope, the daughter of
his fathers oldest friend, who had
made her home with the Ornes since
her parents death. That was years
back. when Ethelyn was a little girl
in frocks. Now she was Is, tall, grace
full and sweet alike in feature and in
temper.
Young Orne came into the little circle
of light cast by the lantern. There was
an old stone seat beneath that particu-
lar olive tree, and he sank into ii.
"Celebrating?" he asked.
Yes" she said pointing to the Ian
tern. 1T is a little lantern of the
soul"
a what?" he asked in laughing per-
plexity.
"A little lantern of the SOUL she re-
peated. You hang them on olive trees
and say little prayers for the souls they
represent. l heard Pietro and the cook
talking about them to-day. 1 made
them explain"
Il see," said he. Whose soul is this ?'
and he pointed to the lantern.
L haven't decided as yet" she said,
and added quickly, Il think it will be
yours"
BY all means let il be So" he ac-
quiesced. Heaven knows I'm sadly in
need of pious prayers just now
Are you IN trouble? she asked.
Have you and Uncle Orne been quar-
reling again2"
He smiled with ironic bitterness. "Oh,
there's been a slight tiff" he said cas-
lily.
THAT is bad she said with ready
sympathy
1t ended by-by-well. to use bold
words. by his kicking me out said he.
Her face became serious. He di'1't
really mean il, of course. He'll be So "
before morning"
L hope So, he said. You can let me
know if he is,' he ended lightly.
Il let you know?" she said, frightened
by his tone You're not-not really 60
ing?''
Orne's face darkened. All the rank
ling bitterness his fathers words had
inspired was upon him again.