HE most recent experience of my 

 own with the mysterious fox-fire oc- 

 curred a short time ago in a home- 

 ward drive with a companion from 

 a botanizing expedition about twelve miles dis- 

 tant. It was near ten o'clock. The sky was 

 overcast, only a stray star of the first magnitude 

 now and then peeping out from between the rifts 

 of hazy floating clouds. The new moon, " wi' th' 

 auld moon i' her arm," had sunk below the 

 western hills, and so dark had it become that 

 the road ahead, at best but a faint suggestion, 

 was occasionally lost for minutes together in the 

 deepened gloom of the overhanging trees, only 

 the keener nocturnal vision of the trusted horse 

 affording the slightest hope of keeping in the 

 wheel-tracks. 



In one of these dark passages we were suddenly 

 surprised by a gleam of light a few rods ahead to 



