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CHAPTER VI THE LANTERN

MARY had no chance to begin reading her Shakespeare until the following day. But just as soon as she had finished her French and algebra home lessons, she laid aside those books and seized the list which Aunt Nan had made for her.

“‘Mem. Read in this order—Midsummer Night’s Dream.’ That sounds good for a beginning,” she said to herself. “I just love the name of it. I wonder what it’s about?” Running to the bookshelves on the left side of the fireplace, where one whole section was devoted to the works of William Shakespeare, Mary began fumbling among the little red books. “Here is ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’!” said she, settling herself in the big leather armchair to read. “Why, it’s full of fairies and private theatricals! I know it is going to be nice!”

Mary read for some time and found that she liked the play even better than she had expected. She always liked to read about fairies, of whom, indeed, the book was full. And the[44] scene of the play-acting was very funny, she thought, especially where Bottom wanted to play all the parts himself.

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Presently she came to a place in the text where a line was heavily underscored. It was where Moon says, “This lantern is my lantern.” “I wonder why Aunt Nan marked that line?” thought Mary. She turned to see if there was anything about a lantern in the notes. And there she found this remark in the writing which she had come to recognize as Aunt Nan’s: “See lantern on mantelshelf. Careful!”

Careful!

“That is a funny note!” thought Mary. “What mantelshelf? There isn’t any in the play. Can she mean—why, yes! There’s a lantern over there on my mantelshelf!”

Sure enough! Mary had not noticed it especially until this minute. But there, not far from the bust of Shakespeare, was a queer old tin lantern, pierced with holes for a candle to shine through—the very kind that Moon must have used in the play, in Shakespeare’s day.

Mary dropped the book and went over to the lantern, with a pleasant sense of possession. Everything in the room was hers. This would be just the thing to play Pyramus and Thisbe with! She took up the old lantern and examined[45] it curiously. In the socket was the stub of a candle. “I wonder who lighted it last?” thought Mary idly. She tried to pull out the candle, but it stuck. 

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