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Although Coon Dogs and Outhouses Volume II does not contain actual stories about a coon dog or an outhouse, they are there in the background. Both are always close to any rural, Southern setting. And most of these stories are about those rural, Southern folk who are really a breed unto themselves. For, you see, those are the folk I really know—the people of the soil.

I's a-tellin' you whut's the gospel truth, I ain't never gonna git myself involved ever again with Press-tone Murphy and nonna his projects. Why, that man could screw up a one-car funeral and everbody knows it.
Rebecca Bingham sat at her desk and cried quietly. She wanted to break down and sob loud enough to be heard over in Hancock County, but she restrained herself.
Sadie Hazelwood pulled back the stringy curtains that covered the window over the kitchen sink and look out toward the barn. She didn't need a clock.
Miss Zadie Mae Tompkins is getting on up in years. Some of her organs and body parts have ceased to function at acceptable levels forcing her to reside in an assisted living facility but her mind has remained as sharp as ever. She likes to relate stories to anyone who will listen about her youth and the early years of her career. Herein lies the tale.
My early years, the late 1930s and early 40s, were spent on three plantations in the Mississippi Delta-that fertile, flat area of farmland which runs from Memphis southward to Vicksburg. The big River itself forms its western boundary.
Sharon was a nurse at the VA hospital. She enjoyed her work with the men who had served their country—and her country, too—and who were still paying a price for this service.
The two young lovers sat on a rock outcropping in a natural alcove beside the rocky trail which clung to the side of the mountain forty or fifty feet above the rushing stream. It and been a tiring hike-and dangerous in places. They sat close together as lovers do. "How far was it from the lodge to the swinging bridge we crossed?' she asked.
It was the third week in August—always the most important week of the year for the East Fork Southern Missionary Baptist Church.
Bernice deserves to die. Yes, thought Sarah Lou as she backed out of her driveway, if anybody deserves to die, she does. A person who would just kill four people-Sarah Lou knew of four for sure, there could be more-did not deserve to live.
J. Farnsworth Kelley turned off the lights in his office and set the alarm before he left the building. As usual, he was the last to leave. He thought it important that the President set a good example for the other bank employees-an example that said, "hard work, long hours, and diligent effort will be rewarded." He was a perfect demonstration of this.
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