Grandfather and Esther are sitting on the shaded veranda. Grandfather
is tilting snuff from the lid of his snuff box
into his lower lip, holding the lip outdrawn between thumb
and finger. They look around as I cross the veranda
and dip the gourd into the water bucket and drink.
When I was a boy I first learned how much
better water tastes when it sets a while in a
cedar bucket. Warmish-cool, with a faint taste like the hot
July wind in cedar trees smells. It has to set
at least six hours, and be drunk from a gourd.
Paraphrases from the novel As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner.