from pages 38 and 39 from DEVIL MAKE A THIRD: Baptist Bottom lay between him and Mabe's Place. It crouched at night under a sullen fog, a few clapboard shacks, shrinking in the sun and swelling in the rain. Mist rose from stagnant water that drained off the higher ground of the white folks and ponded in the bottom. The fog held too long the odors of frying fish, onions, and hush puppies. It rose and dulled sights and sounds. (clipping from the April 6, 1937 DOTHAN EAGLE)