This dont pretend to be Literature.  This is just a tale for red-blooded folks who want a story and not just a lot of psychological stuff or analysis.  Boy, youll love it! Read it here, see it in the movies, play it on the phonograph, run it through the sewing-machine.  * * *  It was night in the mountains of Kentucky. Wild hills rose on all sides. Swift mountain streams flowed rapidly up and down the mountains. Jemima Tantrum was down at the stream, brewing whiskey at the family still.  She was a typical mountain girl.
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