Emphasis Preaching Journal

Robert Louis Stevenson tells of a delightful memory he had of a summer spent in northern Scotland when he was a boy of 12. Toward the end of September, when school time was drawing near and the nights were coming early, Stevenson and his friends would buckle tin lanterns to their waists and button their top coats over them. The lanterns smelled, never burned bright or right, and would always burn their fingers. But the boys didn't mind those inconveniences.