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No, those were sorry people all the way round, ever man jack a three hundred and sixty degree son of a bitch, which my daddy said meant they was a son of a bitch any way you looked at em.
I'll say one thing about Lester though. You can trace em back to Adam if you want and goddamn if he didn't outstrip em all.
Man of leisure like yourself, the sheriff Said. You oughtn't to mind helpin us workers unscramble a little misunderstandin. This way, mister.
The old man's eyes was run out on stems like a crawfish and his tongue blacker'n a chow dog's. I wisht if a man wanted to hang hisself he'd do it with poison or somethin so folks wouldn't have to see such a thing as that.
You think people was meaner then than they are now? the deputy said.
The old man was looking out at the flooded town. No, he said. I don't. I think people are the same from the day God first made one.
You reckon there are just some places the good lord didn't intend folks to live in?
Could be, said the sheriff. He's got a bullheaded bunch to deal with here if it's so though, ain't he?
Damned if he don't.
In the spring or warmer weather when the snow thaws in the woods the tracks of winter reappear on slender pedestals and the snow reveals in palimpsest old buried wanderings, struggles, scenes of death. Tales of winter brought to light again like time turned back upon itself.
All the trouble I ever was in, said Ballard, was caused by whiskey or women or both.