The third in this series (Tales of Cedar River, 1960, More Tales of Cedar River, 1961) walks a sentimental path to the mist-bathed, mythical, composite backwoods town. Again there is no plot but a flow of trivial anecdotes that collect into a town portrait. The main device is verbal, a skeptic, nasal joy thriving on incongruity. Characters show up variously in brief stories and then fade away. The town poet, Jonah P. Hall, has a surrealistically painted house so that whenever he wakes up he won't be confused. The author-narrator and his moonshiner uncle argue their way free of a murder charge by proving that the mermaid they dropped into the river was alive and well. The State postal inspector spends six months locating fugitive Cedar River and then is exasperated by the bedrock sanity of its townspeople. On and on, these small stories combine and fuse in a fantasy which creeps through the imagination as sure-footedly as a ground vine. You know your audience.