Summers in southern Vermont, ca. 1945: There was a stone wall across our back yard, and my father had used some spare stones (plentiful in that country) to build a fireplace into it. If we had guests, we would use it to cook dumpy little hamburgers for them. My parents had gotten hold of some Chinese lanterns, and we lit them & hung them on the big maple tree -- not a good idea, because a breeze might tilt them far enough to set them on fire; eventually none were left. My brother & I would make huge cigars out of paper-towel cores stuffed with newspaper, and smoke them. We would pour kerosene on cattails & light them for torches. We would catch fireflies & keep them in a jar.

So many lights!