Analy High School - Azalea Yearbook (Sebastopol, CA)

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Years passed and the lamp grew tarnished and covered with dust. “Now I am more beautiful than ever,” he thought. This black makes me look slender and delicate.” One day he heard a loud noise and a few moments later he was pulled out into the sunlight. How things have changed,” he said to himself. Where is the palace, where are the streets, and the gardens ? The ampi- theater is gone and where are those noisy gladiators?” Before he had time to see anything else, he was placed in a bag with a number of other lamps and vases. Where are we?” he asked his nearest neighbor, a vase in the shape of a fat old man. I just heard that fellow, who calls himself a dynamite box say something about excavation what ever that is, and that we were still in Pompeii.” That night the sack was carried away and at last when it was opened the Roman lamp found himself in a dirty little shop. A grimy old man came to polish his wares and when he reached the lamp, he picked it up and examined it carefully. The lamp shud¬ dered with disgust at his touch, but nobody noticed him. Now perhaps someone will buy me and I shall see the world. Perhaps it will be a beautiful princess,” said the lamp. He smiled stiff silver smiles at all who came into the shop. His nearest neigh¬ bor iu. the shop was a little brass candle-stick. She had a great many stories to tell about her life before coming to the shop and soon the two became good friends. A tall blue porcelain pitcher stood on the shelf above them, and when ever possible he mo¬ nopolized the conversation. The Roman lamp hated him with all his silver heart. You look like a cheat,” the pitcher said one day, when he was feeling unusually cross. I don’t believe you ever saw Pompeii. It’s more likely that you were made just to sell to tourists.” The Roman Lamp was very angry at such slan¬ der, but long ago the Persian vase had told him it was not polite to fight in the presence of ladies so he sullenly glowered at the pitcher and said nothing. The days flew quickly past and the lamp thought he had never seen anyone as nice as the little brass candlestick. He had given up wishing for a princess to come and buy him. - All he wanted was to remain in the little shop with the candle stick. One day two young ladies came into the shop. After looking around a while one of them pointed to the Roman lamp and the dirty old man, who owned the shop, picked it up and handed it to her in exchange for some money. Americans” grunted the blue porcelain pitcher, I hope they like you, Mr. Cheat.” Before he 22

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The Roman Lamp By HARRIETT MADDOCKS Fourth Prize There was once a Roman lamp, who had the good fortune of living in a patrician’s palace in Pompeii. He was looked upon with great respect by the other lamps because he was made of silver and engraved with cuaint figures. His handle was a flowering vine and the snuffer was a flower. He was a very proud lamp and drew himself up taller than all his companions. “Some day I shall go out into the world and do great things. What a pity you can never hope to do any thing but stay in the kitchen,” he said to a plain kitchen lamp one day when he was taken out to be polished and filled with oil. Then he was carried away by a ser¬ vant and placed in the banquet room, where he dreamed of the splendor of the banquet to be given that night. Suddenly he was aroused from his dream by a scream from the Persian vase in the middle of the long table. The Persian vase was usually quiet and reserved so when she sccreamed he was all attention. “Oh what will become of us? My friend, Mr. Mouse, has just told me Vesuvius is in eruption.” Just as she spoke a rock came crashing through the roof and a shower of ashes followed it, which almost choked the Roman lamp. Just then a servant came into the room, seized the lamp and carried him to a dark cellar. The lamp shivered for the cellar was dusty and full of spider webs. Outside he could hear shrieks above the confusion. At last all was still and the lamp stood staring around him. A few frightened rats ran back and forth in the cellar and the spiders came out to look for prey. At first he avoided them, but gradually as time passed, their companionship became more agreeable. They gathered in a circle about him while he told stories about beautiful gardens and the luxurious banquets given in the patrician’s palace. One by one the spiders and then the rats dropped from the circle and the Roman lamp heard rumors of starvation, about him. 21

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had time to tell the little candle-stick good-bye he was swathed in brown paper and placed in a bag. “I wonder where I am going and what will become of the little candle-stick?’ said the lamp. “Oh, why was I so anxious to be bought?” “Keep still!” grunted the paper that was wrapped around him. “Isn’t it bad enough for me to be carried off without you scolding about what will happen to you and that silly brass candle-stick.” The lamp sighed and resolved not to say anything more, for the sake of keeping peace. He felt too sad to argue. The journey came to an end soon after and when he was removed from his paper wrappings the lamp found himself in a large room of a hotel, with a girl bending over him. “I wonder if it really came from Pompeii. It looks very old and I can hardly wait to fill it and see if it leaks,” she was saying as the last piece of paper dropped from the lamp. He was beginning to tell her about his adventures and that no one had ever accused him of leaking before, when the wrapping paper said with a crackling chuckle: “Do you suppose she can hear you? Be quiet!” The lamp did not answer, for to his surprise upon looking around he saw the little brass candle-stick smiling at him from the mantle. “How did you get here?” he asked, almost afraid t ospeak lest it should prove only a dream. “That other American lady bought me at the same time you were sold,” smiled the little candle-stick. “But we might as well have stayed in that dirty little shop for that friendly little gold clock on the dresser said we were to cross the ocean to America and that these two ladies live many miles apart.” The Roman lamp straightened himself bravely and resolved to-find a way. Sud¬ denly an idea came to him and he grimly accepted it. Just then the young lady approached him with a small can of oil and al¬ most before he realized it, he was casting his mellow light over all the objects in the room. That night the hotel burned down and among the ruins a small lump of metal was found which could scarcely be recognized as silver and brass. 28