"Dear heart, how dark it is! Pierre, like a good lad, light the
lamp!"
Pierre got up and with the lighted match in his hand touched the
wick of a lamp which hung at one side of the entrance to the
shanty, and which had a reflector that threw the light all over the
place. It was evidently that which was used for their sorting at
night.
"Not that, stupid! Not that! The lantern!" she called out to
him.
He immediately blew it out, saying: "All right, mother, I'll
find it," and he hustled about the left corner of the room-the old
woman saying through the darkness:
"The lantern! the lantern! Oh! That is the light that is most
useful to us poor folks. The lantern was the friend of the
revolution! It is the friend of the chiffonier! It helps us when
all else fails."
Hardly had she
