I had heard of a will-o'-the-wisp even before we left Missouri. The fairy book, that Daniel read aloud to me, called them fairy lanterns and Daniel said they were never allowed to burn except at night, and that they would light belated travelers, who had lost their way on the marsh and that just before day, wee chaps in peaked caps went around with big snuffers and always put them out. That might all have been true, but even a fairy might oversleep, so it was just as well to keep away from the swamp, even if it were daytime. I wasn't even sure about the travelers who had lost their way, for I had often heard the story of Leander, I knew him very well. He was chased past the graveyard by a will-o'-the-wisp, that hadn't stayed in the swamp at all, besides that, I was quite sure that Leander could never have been lost when he passed the graveyard, for his mother and his grandmother and all his other folks were buried there, and Leander said that he kept ahead of it all the way, and he was speechless and white as a ghost when he got there on his foam flaked, staggering old flea-bitten gray mare. I hoped that if ever I was caught out after dark, I would be allowed to find my way home alone. I expect that Leander felt the same way about it. People said that he was just a bit queer after the will-o'-the-wisp had tried to light his way home. Walt Davies Monmouth, OR