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340 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1963
I swear I’m licked before I start, trying to tell you all what Mr. Onselm looked like. Words give out- for instance, you’re frozen to death for fit words to tell the favor of the girl you love. And Mr. Onselm and I pure poison hated each other. That’s how love and hate are alike. He was what country folks call a low man, more than calling him short or small; a low man is low otherwise than by inches.From Why They’re Named That:
If the Gardinel’s an old folks’ tale, I’m honest to tell you it’s a true one. Few words about them are best, I should reckon. They look some way like a shed or cabin, snug and rightly made, except the open door might could be a mouth, the two little windows might could be eyes.From Vandy, Vandy:
That valley hadn’t any name, such outside folks as knew about it, just said, ‘Back in yonder,’ and folks inside said, ‘Here.’ The mail truck dropped a few letters in a hollow tree next to a ridge where a trail went up and over and down. Three, four times a year bearded men in homemade clothes and shoes fetched out their makings-clay dishes and pots…They carried back coffee, salt gunpowder, a few nails. Things like that.8. The “horror” aspect of these stories, while excellent, is done without blood, gore or even unnecessary violence. They remind me of the classic tales of Montague Rhodes James and Algernon Blackwood.