By Jim Faulkner
Across the Creek, a suite of affectionate memories, provides to the typical lore approximately William Faulkner and his group. Jim Faulkner recounts tales abounding in folklore, humor, kinfolk background, and fictionalized background, and those supply an insider's view of the Faulkner family's existence within the small southern city of Oxford, Mississippi.
A feel of experience and misadventure colours those own bills. "Aunt Tee and Her Monuments" explains the secret of why town has accomplice statues. "Roasting Black Buster" tells how Faulkner's employed guy via mistake killed the prize bull for a family members fish fry. "The photo of John and Brother Will" recounts how Phil Mullen occurred to take his popular photograph of the well-known Faulkner brother novelists—John and William—one of the few photos ever taken of them together.
Here during this pleasing ebook are extra relations tales a few significant American writer whose existence, relations, and writing have...
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Extra info for Across the Creek. Faulkner Family Stories
When we pressed down on the clothespin its mouth opened and the rubber band shot out. We could aim the gun and with a little practice hit an enemy nearly every time within the ten-yard range, even when he was running. If we tied a knot in the rubber band, it would really sting and raise a red welt on bare skin. It took three hits to put a man out of action. The side that had the last one alive won the battle, and some real honest-to-goodness fights came from arguments about how many hits somebody had and who was dead and who was not.
The next morning before the sun came over the hill behind Uncle Oscar’s house we were all down around the picnic ground where the activity was. Even Uncle Oscar was already there. He couldn’t stand anything going on without being there himself. He had a house full of children. Some were his and his wife Maggie’s and some were kinfolks’ children that had come to live with them. This morning he had told Maggie he had to step over to the commissary to get a few things for breakfast, but what he really wanted to do was hang around us and watch what was happening.
She grabbed both boys by the collar at the back of their necks and, without breaking her stride, turned back up the hill towards her house, pushing them in front of her like a wheelbarrow. As she passed Brother Will she asked, “Mr. ” In his calm soft slow voice, Brother Will said, “We don’t, Miss Lillie. ” Brother Will waited for us to get out of the brush pile and then walked in front as we followed him home. He never did fuss at us about it, but he never did fuss at us about anything. He let us find out these things for ourselves, but he was around to help us if we needed him.