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Her corncob pipe it was as rank a thing as ditch digger ever poisoned the clean air with. Granma Wandon was as spry as a yearling calf. She taught me how to drown out groundhogs and chipmunks from their holes. She went fishing with me and taught me to spit on the bait for luck, or rub a certain root on the hook, which she said made the fish bite better.

I dreamed of skeleton hands that reached out from the clothes closet for me. Often at night I woke, yelling with nightmare. With a curious touch of folk lore Granma Gregory advised me to "look for the harness under the bed, if it was a nightmare." But she upbraided Granma Wandon, her mother, for retailing me such tales.

Robert Jackson, the son of a small landed proprietor of limited income but respectable character in Lanarkshire, was born in 1750, at Stonebyres, in that county. He received his education first at the barony school of Wandon, and afterwards under the care of Mr Wilson, a teacher of considerable local celebrity at Crawford, one of the wildest spots in the Southern Highlands.

It was the story of the man who died cursing God, and who brought, by his cursing, the dancing of the very flames of Hell, red-licking and serrate, in a hideous cluster, like an infernal bed of flowers, just outside the window, for all around his death-bed to see! In the fall of the next year Granma Wandon took sick. We knew it was all over for her. She faded painlessly into death.

Before 1686 it was Wandon and Wansdon, according to Crofton Croker, and Lysons derives it from Wendon, either because the traveller had to wend his way through it to Fulham, or because the drainage from higher grounds "wandered" through it to the river. The Church of St. John is situated at Walham Green. It has a high square tower with corner pinnacles, and is partly covered with ivy.