Illustration Commons^™

Between Rounds, William T. Edwards

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It was raining outside. Palmer could look out through the large plate-glass window at the front of the bar and see the rain slanting down before headlights that knifed through the dark. He concentrated on his drink.

A Little Knowledge, Bill Mccann

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Martha found it hard to realize that they had finally made it. But there could be no doubt; directly ahead, Saint Peter was checking the people into Heaven...

First Flight, Marie Hammontree

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Two passengers were waiting in the airline office for the first morning flight to Chicago. The limousine for the airport had not yet arrived. Outside it was just daylight. The streets were quiet except for the scurrying steps of an early worker and the clatter of an occasional trolley.

High And Inside, Clyde J. Steckel

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Mike Barsen squirmed uneasily in his seat in the press box and peered over onto the playing field, now nearly completely shrouded by the shadows of the west grandstand and bleachers. The game had gone into extra innings, and there was apparently little hope for an immediat~ break in .the one-to-one .deadlock. Al Rosar was pitching for the GIants, startmg the game with a won-lost record of eight and thirteen for the 1948 season. But Mike Barsen, covering the game for the Gazette, knew, perhaps better than anyone else in the stands, how bitterly Al Rosar needed to win the …

The Ball, Roger Chittick

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B. was very tired, alone and bewildered in the great city. How he had come to be in the center of the city he did not know, and his futile searching to find a way out had worn him into a state of total exhaustion. He was too tired to go further, so he sat down on the sidewalk and went to sleep. He thought it rather strange, in the short interval between the time he sat down and the time he went to sleep, that nobody seemed to pay any attention to the fact that he was there; in …

The Miracle, George Fullen

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...I had never seen a more confused young man than Ed. He had every neurosis and psychosis that we were studying in psychology classes, and he was very interesting to the small group which met in our room as a walking case history of a schizophrenic, manic depressive, paranoia and a good many other things I have since forgotten. As closely as we could diagnose the case, he had everything but delusions of grandeur. And we felt that his case, as well as an other we might have been considering at the time, was rooted in Freudian psychology. We were …

Say Grace For Gramma, Bill Mccann

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It was a festive Thanksgiving at Gramma's this year-blood ties drawing the family together from all over the country for a yearly reunion of good food, laughter, and nostalgic memories...

Front Matter

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No abstract provided.

The Lantern, 2014-2015, Nora Sternlof, Blaise Laramee, Sophia Gamber, Kara Travis, Maxwell Bicking, Emily Duffy, Amanda Sierzega, Collin Takita, Isabella Esser Munera, Brian Cox, Annie Rus, Dominick Knowles, Solana Warner, Brian Thomas, Sarah Gow, Alyse Brewer, Mara Koren, Briana Mullan, Albert Hahn, Aubrey Atkinson, Eliana Katz, Josh Hoffman, Caylon Fowlkes, Dana Kluchinski, Lauren Geiger, Michele Snead, Andrew Tran, Erica Gorenberg, Henry Wilshire, Emily Shue, Rae Hodenfield, Madison Bradley, Kristen Costello, Brian Leipold, Quinn Gilman-Forlini, Lauren Marano, Mary Lobo, Arthur Robinson, Kevin Moore, Mary A. Holmcrans, Angier Cooper, Michael Heimbaugh

The Lantern Literary Magazines, 1933 to Present

• The Retreat
• Part of Eve's Discussion
• Buchanan
• Hypotheticals
• The Baby Hippo
• Sertraline and Cheerios
• Margins
• Anatomy of Me
• Orange
• Ode to Mathematics
• Garden Path
• Periphery
• 10n Power=Our Maybe Domains
• Hillside
• Baltimore//Analogues
• Work is a Religion
• At the Bridal Shower
• November
• Revisionist History
• Cold Front
• Lung (for D. Avitabile)
• Tether
• Hold Still
• Reverb
• An Almost English Major and His Daughter
• Clocks
• In the Kitchen on a Sunday Afternoon
• Amy
• Nine
• Customary …

Volume 16, Issue 1: Full Text

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No abstract provided.

Editor's Note, The Editor

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No abstract provided.

The Cliche Expert At Butler, Kent Mecum, Waneta Staten, Eleanor Overstreet

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Note: The three following pieces were written as a class assignment and all appear under the same title. The possibilities of the subject were so numerous that there is very little over-lapping in the papers and it seemed proper to print all three as representing a more exhaustive treatment of the subject. - The Editor.

Sunday Farmers, R. J. Evans

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Although I did not realize it when I married him, I really married Teddy plus a farm. Young and rather naive, I believed I could soon make myself over into a farmer's wife, especially since the farm in question was a project only for week-ends. But I have found it consumes all of my husband's spare time and as much of mine as I will allow.

April, Suzanne Spiker

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From tall trees,

The cool moisture rushes

To the ground...

My Utopia, Kenneth Ryan

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Do you want to be a hermit? Of course you don't. But! Do you awake in the morning feeling irritable and tired after a hard double feature the night before? Does your head buzz and do your feet ache after hours of shopping through crowded stores? Does the / world of modern man rest heavily upon your weary shoulders? If your answer is yes, then we can help you.

The Impossible Housewife, Demaris Klicka

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Her house-dress is faultlessly tailored. She wears sheer hose and high heels. Her sleek, upswept hair-do is in shining order at 6:00 a.m. Her house, which was a tumbled-down shack bought for almost nothing, has been remodeled with only a few dollars and quantities of ingenuity into a decorator's dream; most of the furniture, deep, handrubbed mahogany, was found in a back street second-hand shop for a few pennies and refinished. Her house is in ship-shape order (Navy style) not later than 8:00 a.m. She does a weekly laundry for seven. people before breakfast without marring her manicure. She prepares …

A Snowflake--An Observation, Suzanne Spiker

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With my face pressed against the cool pane of the window, I watched the snow drifting slowly past. Then my eye was caught by a particularly beautiful flake, lodged on the sill. It was perfectly symmetrical in shape, looking like a delicate white butterfly poised for flight, or a lacy, imaginative valentine, left over from that saint s name-day.

Death, Patrick J. Mahoney Iii

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He had tried to surrender. From behind a section of battered wall, he waved the Nambu with a piece of dirty white rag tied to the barrel, and I waited. Waited, with my Thompson leveled at that piece of white rag. We had long since learned of the treachery of the infamous Seventh Regiment of Imperial Marines, the pride of the Emperor, the giants of Nippon. They were giants too, in comparison to the usual run of Nips. These Banzai boys were all crowding six feet and over. Big fellas, and treacherous as a coiled cobra.

Requiem, Alan Markum

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All shall go down

All shall go under

All shall forget...

The Most Exciting Hour Of My Life, James Richman

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The most exciting hour of my life? I think it was the time I traded places on an airplane with a Chinese mule. Other incidents have been more dangerous; other escapes have been closer: but not one has been more exciting.

The Dramatic Function Of The Gravediggers' Scene In Hamlet, Q. L. West

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It is unfortunate that one of the scenes most often cut from contemporary productions of "Hamlet" is the first scene of Act V, the gravediggers' scene. The scene is, after all, static; it is merely a lyrical passage which seems, at first, to delay the movement of the drama, and, at all events, to add nothing to it. The producer wants swift, forward-moving action, and, certainly, he finds little enough of what he wants in the almost perverse, but always fundamental, deliberateness of this play. Consequently, one of the first scenes to be eliminated is almost invariably this one, despite …

Paricutin, Marie Hammontree

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The liveliest and youngest of the world's volcanoes, Paricutin is now a mecca for visitors from every continent. For years the farm of Dionisio Pulido, two miles outside of the village of Paricutin, had been a favorite picnic spot for neighboring Mexicans because the ground was so warm and dry and hospitable. On February 20, 1943, while plowing in his cornfield, Senor Pulido heard a noise from under the soil. Louder it came and then with an earth shaking roar began pouring rocks and cinders. into the air. The next day there was a cone-shaped pile twenty-five feet high. Within …

The Shepheard's Calendar, Allyn Wood

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In the first eclogue and the last, Colin Clout addresses Pan, complaining about his life. These are the only two eclogues in monologue; they are different in scope but with many comparable passages; and they are the only two in the particularly sustained musical rhyme scheme of iambic pentameter sixains ryhmed ababcc." But in January, Colin is immature, in December he has grown old. In the two complaints, Spenser subtly communicates the vast difference in Colin's experience-he is comprehensive, as in "February" he only plays. Through images of his relationship with nature, first so superficial and comradely and demonstrative, deepening …

Freedom: A Symposium, William Harper, Earl Murphy, David E. Barnhart, Fred Mcnanny

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Note: The idea of freedom has been a vital motivation for speculation, deliberation, and action throughout all time. In Its wake lie both assurance and confusion. Its backward glance falls upon olive branches some still wet with blood, for freedom ranges from divine heights' to satanic depths in man's definition and application. What and how we think of freedom is important to these times, the beginnings of our future. The four essays in this collection are attempts to reach a definition of freedom. We hope they may lead to individual considerations of this problem.

-Editor

Cormorant, Margaret Lanahan

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From out the sea

Fled up the sandy coast,

Bleak desert stretch,

Half a land and half a sea alike,

Spreading gritty flecks

Built into rock, slab crag,

And summit peak of stone.

Here perched silently

The cormorant...

Poems, George Fullen

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Derelict and Hours Before Darkness by, George Fullen.

Poems, Tom Wagle

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Double Identity and What an Accomplishment by, Tom Wagle.

Autumn Twilight, Anne Mcdonnell

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On my lips the sad bitter taste

Of moist autumn air...

Eagle Released, F. King

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There was something of the eagle in him,

Something that spoke flailing wings against the sun...

Departure And Return, F. King

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Wrapt in an invisible blanket of snow

She walked in silence through the small town.

And though for most it was the month of June,

And though for most it was a summer's day, The lady strolled through gentle avenues of snow...